Love Among the Ruins (1975)

[bunniefuu]

- Did you get very wet?
- Oh, never mind'. Are they here?

- They?
- Mr. Druce and his client, Mrs. Medlicott.

- Yes.
- She's here?

No, no, she's not, not yet.

Well, it's after 4:00.

- They're late.
- Yeah, thank heavens, so am I'.

I was expecting plenty of time
to have another look at Druce's brief.

I'll be lucky if I can get the grime of the
courtroom off my hands before she gets here.

Detain them outside,
sir, until you're ready?

- Don't even think of it.
- I beg your pardon?

You are to show them up
the moment they arrive.

You are not to delay by so much
as a single instant, do you understand?

- Very good, sir.
- Not one more instant.

I thought we agreed that the cleaning woman
should make a special effort in here today.

She did say she was here
much longer than usual.

You won't find
any dust anywhere.

It looks the same to me,
I was wanting...

- Sir?
- Oh, nothing.

- Did you expect it to look different?
- I don't know what I was expecting.

I don't know what
I was wanting.

Damn wig makes it a habit
of my hair.

"What's left of it is a site
once of a city great and g*y,

the country now does
not even boast a tree."

- Browning.
- Are you all right, Sir Arthur?

Yeah, why?
Don't I look all right?

- Oh, yes, you look fine.
- What's wrong?

Am I behaving strangely?

Oh.' There they are'.

There she is.

I beg your pardon, sir?

There they are'. Go on down.'

Hurry, man, hurry'.

Move it'.

Mr. Druce's brief, where is it?

I left it on your desk, sir.

Uh, well, place it more
conspicuously, will you?

And open it as if
I've been studying it.

Go on, man'.

- I mean, does he know...
- He'll ask you the questions.

Come.

- Good afternoon, Arthur'.
- Oh, there you are, at last.

Hello, George.

We're not so very late, are we?

Few minutes?

It doesn't matter.
Come in, come in.

Thank you, Malden.
If I need anything, I'll ring.

How are you?
Good to see you.

Had a devil of a time
getting here from Regent's Park.

The traffic in the Strand
at this hour is shocking.

Please, don't apologize.

He's not apologizing,
he's explaining.

Mrs. Medlicott,
Sir Arthur Granville-Jones.

Sir Arthur,
Mrs. Giles Medlicott.

How do you do?

I said, "How do you do?"

I beg your pardon, madam.

I'm very well, thank you.
And you?

- As you see.
- Yes.

- May we sit down?
- Yes, I remember.

- Yes?
- What was I saying?

Well, you said
that you remember.

- Remember what?
- Curious thing,

it's gone clean
out of my head.

Never mind, it will
come back to you.

Oh, yes.

I'm afraid my skirt got wet.

Yes, yes, it will all come back.

- Is he hard of hearing?
- Beg your pardon?

- It's raining.
- Oh, I'm so sorry.

Do forgive me.
Please, come by the fire.

Shall Morton make you
a cup of tea?

Oh, no, thank you,
I've had my tea.

- Please, sit here, madam.
- Thank you.

Would you like to give me
your hat, madam?

Shall I take it?

Why? Don't you like it?

Oh, yes, it's charming.

It's just that it might be wet,
and it casts a shadow in this light

just across your face.

And you want to see what sort of
woman you're taking on, is that it?

- Yes.
- Very well. Be patient.

There are three hat pins.

May I offer you
a little sherry?

You may offer it,
I shan't have any.

Is there anything at all
I can get you?

A quick verdict in my favor
would be lovely.

That's very good, isn't it?

Well, we have to see
what we can do, eh, George?

- George, please sit.
- There.

Well, what do you think?

Do I look the sort of woman
who seduces and betrays young boys

as the newspapers
have implied?

You look...

Yes?

You know, you look...

Well, if--if that is a compliment,

it seems to me
a most ambiguous one.

"Old as I am,
for lady's love unfit,

the power of beauty
I remember yet."

- That's better.
- That's Dryden.

- Here's my hat.
- Oh, now where shall I put this?

Anywhere but on your head,
I should think.

Yes.

Well, I've been studying
your brief, George.

- I see that you have.
- Not as thoroughly as I would have liked.

You see, I've been to court
every day this week.

Lord Baconthorpe's suit for divorce.

- Yes, I know.
- It's a messy business.

- My case?
- No, the Baconthorpe affair.

Lady Baconthorpe shot her lover
three times in the most unlikely place.

Where, exactly?

- Trafalgar Square.
- Ooh, how spectacular.

And I only jilted mine
in Petworth Place.

Is that what you're thinking?

Oh, no.

What a letdown.
I'm sorry to disappoint you.

- Are you?
- Am I what?

Sorry to have
disappointed me?

But how solemn you are.
I thought we were joking'.

You're misled, I take
these matters very seriously.

Are we talking about
the same thing?

I wonder.

Have I missed a chapter?

I seem to have lost the thread.

Was there something you wanted
to say to me, Mrs. Medlicott?

About what?

Never mind.

Mrs. Medlicott understands that there are
questions you'll be obliged to put to her.

Yes. Yes, I'm quite prepared.

I continually have the feeling that
you're about to say that you know me.

- Know you?
- Yes.

But I don't know you, do I?

- Do you?
- Well, how could I?

I've never been to law before.

Recently, you might just have seen me
in Petworth Place, I live close by.

In fact, from my window
I can see your front door.

- Can you?
- I can.

How curious. No, I know
very few people in Petworth Place

or any other place
for that matter.

I've been told you like
to live very quietly.

As a matter of fact, when I first
took up the lease of my house in April,

I took the liberty
of calling on you.

You said you weren't receiving,
I left my card but, regrettably,

there's never been
any response.

I've been in mourning
for the past two years, Sir Arthur.

Since the death of my
late husband Giles Medlicott,

I entertain very little,
which is to say not at all.

I'm afraid I don't recall
seeing your card.

Had I done, I expect
I should have wondered

as to the purpose of your visit.

I know, of course, that you're at
the very top of your profession.

George Druce has
told me all that.

The finest barrister in the empire,
in my humble opinion.

Yes, still, after all, you are,

forgive me, a stranger to me.

I'm sorry.

I had thought we had met.

When?

A long time ago.

Very long time.

Where?

Don't you remember?

I think you must have
made a mistake.

Perhaps you're confusing me
with someone else.

But if you won't tell me
when it was or where...

Never mind.

- It will come back to you.
- Oh, how beastly of you'.

Meantime, Arthur, perhaps we...

Yes, do, let's get on
with the questions.

Yes, by all means. Well, now,
this is a very difficult case.

- It really is very complicated.
- Why do you say that?

Surely the charge
is common enough.

A breach of promise, oh, yes, it's common
enough when it's brought by a woman.

Time was when the courts were
fairly swarming with young ladies

hauling up their young men for trifling
with their affections, as the saying goes.

But it's a very different matter
and rare enough to be most awkward.

When, as in this present case,
the charges brought against a lady of...

Yes?

...considerable means
and social position and of...

And of?

And of...

- Of a certain age?
- Of a certain age,

as the saying goes,
by a gentleman somewhat...

Somewhat younger?

Much, much younger.

I don't much care
for "much, much."

It's superfluous, isn't it?

Surely, just "much" would have
served quite adequately.

- Sorry.
- Furthermore,

the idea of Alfred Pratt
posing as a gentleman

is nothing more than mutton
dressed as lamb.

Oh?

As the saying goes.

Looks nice and tender but, usually,
it turns out to be tough and unsavory.

But he was an officer
in the Mauretania, was he not?

- He was a purser.
- An assistant purser.

- Ah, I see.
- A very ambitious,

very tenacious
assistant purser, a worm.

- Yet you loved him once.
- Did I?

You did consent to marry him.
He had witnesses.

Oh, he had witnesses, all right,
brought along especially for the occasion.

There was his sister.

Well, she's relatively harmless.

- And his mother?
- She's the b*tch.

He claims your housekeeper...

- Davis?
- Yes, she was also present.

Davis will never give
evidence against me.

But she'll be on oath, madam.

Now do you expect
the poor woman to perjure herself?

And who are you, Sir Arthur, to tell me what
I can and cannot expect of my own servant?

I'm your advocate, dear lady,
at least, I presume that's what you want.

What I want is to have this
contemptible farce over with

as quickly and, I might add,

as economically as possible.

I trust you will remember, Sir Arthur,
when we come to the matter of your fee,

that you have been engaged to defend me
against extortion, not subject me to it.

- Mrs. Medlicott'.
- No, it's all right, George.

And I, delivering you,
am satisfied

and therein do account
myself well-paid.

Ah, a rhyme for
every occasion.

Don't be too generous or I shall
distrust you, as human nature.

- Do you recognize those words?
- Should I?

Merchant of Venice,
Portia to Antonio.

You're fond of quoting poetry.

All lawyers are prone
to quote poetry, the Bible.

It's the legal profession's common
alternative to an original mind.

How you stare at me.

You haven't answered my question.

Did you love him?

- Love whom?
- You know very well whom I mean.

At any rate, you let him believe
you loved him, didn't you?

He'll have to prove that.

Consider the boy who loved you,
believing that you loved him.

You are being presumptuous'.

Promised?

Promised what?

That you would always...

Always?

That you would never, never...

- What is he talking about?
- Arthur?

What on earth
is he talking about?

Arthur'.

Hm? What's wrong, what is it?
What? Mm?

I promised I would always.

I promised I would never, never.

I cannot follow
his thought at all.

- Are you all right?
- Yes, yes, quite.

My mind just wandered. What?

Good Lord, I must plead guilty
to a charge of woolgathering.

Preoccupation in an advocate.

Surely that is a calamity.

Unpardonable,
off with his head.

I have no taste for calamity,
Sir Arthur, not anymore, not now.

Neither has any of us, madam.

I used to have.

When Giles died and for a long time
after it, I gorged myself on disaster.

Every morning with breakfast, I would pour over
the newspapers for word of new catastrophes.

I was insatiable.

And why not? My world, the only world
I knew, had been destroyed so suddenly,

so cruelly, and lay
about my feet in ruins.

Why should any other world endure?

I know the pain
of being left behind.

In time, of course, the rage passes and one
is able to face one's loss and to accept it.

Not always.

I look upon my relationship
to Alfred Pratt and his family now

as my last bitter taste of calamity.

The day I wrote to him breaking off
that preposterous betrothal,

in fact, the very moment I sat down
at the desk and put pen to paper,

I knew that I'd come through,
that all the anger and anguish

of Giles' death was behind me.

What I wanted from...

What I wanted from then on was
only to be quiet, to be very, very quiet

and to live out
what was left of my life

as serenely and
uneventfully as possible.

Arthur?

Mm.

Most enlightening.

But it's not the story I should advise you
to tell to 12 good men and true.

Why not? It's the truth.

In English court, there are
always two kinds of truth:

The truth as it is spoken
and the truth as it is heard.

A gentleman with a background not unlike
your own might listen to that explanation,

might nod and understand
and even sympathize.

But a juror of a different
class than yours,

chances are a lower one,

is liable to shake his head and think,
"Why, this formidable lady has simply used"

the poor lad for her own purposes
and then forsaken him

"for the flimsiest of reasons
out of weariness, out of boredom,"

and award him
the 40,000 pounds

that George Druce will think
his counsel will ask for.

- Fifty.
- Fifty?

Yes.' Fifty, dammit.

30,000 compensatory damages,
20 in punitive.

Good Lord,
50,000 pounds.

- Must you repeat the amount?
- Jessica'.

Oh, my smelling salts.

- George, my bag, my bag.
- Shall I open a window?

In this weather? I don't want pneumonia
on top of everything else, thank you.

- Filthy stuff.
- Better?

Not a penny of my money
is he to have.

I told her there's no doubt
that Pratt would settle out of court.

Not a farthing.

It will spare you
any further notoriety.

I loathe the notoriety, I treasure my privacy,
but I will not ransom it from thieves.

You should also know that should you lose your case,
you will have to pay not only all the damages,

but all the costs as well.

But who has spoken of losing?

I should also warn you that his solicitors
have engaged the services

of one of the most clever advocates
in England to represent him in court.

Yes, I heard him this morning.
Devine, isn't it?

- Yeah.
- Isn't what divine?

- Bad luck.
- Yeah, bad luck on us.

What is? What are you two
talking on about?

John Francis Devine KC,
ironically referred to in the profession

as St. John the Divine.

Because he's the very devil
of an opponent.

Anglo-Irish.

He has a common touch.

Yes, and for that reason, juries tend
to like him better than they do me,

just as they will probably like his client
better than they will you.

- And why is that?
- Because you're a great lady

with more money than most of them
will hope to see their whole lives long,

and because the idea
of poor, unwashed Alfred Pratt

parting you from
an enormous chunk of it

has all the ingredients
of a popular legend.

Instantaneous success
without fault or labor.

Just like winning
a fortune in the lottery.

It makes their own
hopeless little hopes

seem a little more susceptible
of attainment.

Let me tell you something.

I, too, have cherished
hopeless hopes.

And I know something
about poverty.

Oh, I come of an excellent family,
it's true, very proud

and very, very poor.

When I was six, my father went out
to Bangalore for the East India Company,

which everyone thought
madly romantic,

and succumbed within
a fortnight to dysentery,

which they thought
somewhat less so.

My mother and I nearly starved.

All that kept me alive through my childhood
were dreams of being grown up

and a famous actress
with her suite at Claridge's

and a cochon for
champagne suppers

in Lord somebody's rooms
in the Adelphi.

The reality, as it turned out,
was a wretched dressing room

in a provincial theater,
third-class railway carriages,

fish-and-chip shops,
and shabby theatrical digs.

And, then, I met Giles Medlicott.

And his reality was a country estate,
a house in town, and winters in Bordighera.

- Monte Carlo.
- He was considerably older than you.

Why do you mention that?

The young men who were your admirers might
have accused you of bartering your youth

for an old man's gold,
as they say in melodramas.

What is your point?

It's true, he was older than I
and he was rich.

If you mean to imply a parallel
between myself and Mr. Medlicott

and Alfred Pratt and me,
you overlook the most important factor.

Alfred Pratt loves no one
but Alfred Pratt.

Giles Medlicott loved me.

- And you?
- I loved him too.

In time.

But not when you married him?

Why should you
have to know that?

I loved him when he died,
isn't that enough?

Long before he died'.

I made him happy.

And that makes you feel
deserving of his fortune?

What an extraordinary thing to say.

I mean you want to keep it.

And why not? It's mine now.

- You earned it, as it were.
- Earned it? What do you mean?

- Jessica...
- I inherited it.

I was his wife,
I am his widow.

Naturally, I feel entitled
to whatever--

Oh, stop fussing, George'.

What is the purpose
of these questions?

Will they help you
to plead my cause?

Well, they will introduce you
to the sort of technique

you may expect from
St. John the Divine

and, at the same time,
they will help me to know you,

and that is essential
if I am to help you

and represent you
properly and effectively.

Can you do so, do you think?

I can try.

Give me your hand on it.

It's settled then.

At last, what a relief.

- I must go.
- How natural your hand feels in mine, how familiar.

Oh, you shocking man.

You're going to insist
on that again.

And just when we were
getting on so famously.

It was so very many years ago.

And we only knew each other
for such a very short time.

- Are you certain of it?
- Yes, Jessie.

Jessie Gerald.

Jessie Gerald?

But, uh...

You--you, you're...

You're talking ancient history.

The--the Acropolis.

The Roman Forum, Babylon.

Toronto.

Toronto?

Toronto, Canada.

Princess Theater.

The, um...

The Princess Theater?

Yes.

You were there with
an English repertory company.

I remember the first time I saw you
I was only a poor law student.

In fact, I'd only worked
my way out there to read law

because Oxford and Cambridge
were beyond my means.

But the play was
The Merchant of Venice.

I saw it from the gallery,
needless to say.

And Antonio and Bassanio

played the scene about Portia.

"In Belmont is a lady richly left,
and she is fair.

Her sunny locks hang from
her temples like a golden fleece."

Then, they were gone,
then you came on

in a simple white gown
with your waiting woman.

"By my troth, Nerissa, my little body
is aweary of this great world."

You do remember.

No more than that.

By heavens,
you were a vision.

Long golden hair.

- It was a wig.
- Yes.

Something else.

One of your charming
Toronto critics wrote,

"Miss Gerald has that boyish quality"

which, in France,
is called 'gamin' or 'gamine.'

Miss Gerald's voice
is as at as her figure,

and her figure is as flat
as the Interior Plains

"which is the flattest place in Canada."

Oh, I'd have flattened him
if I'd had the chance.

Well, at least you remember Toronto.

I remember the blow to my pride.

But Toronto, Canada,

I recall only as a blur of lakes
and infinite green forests

and never more than a few days
in any one town or city.

I give up. I really believe
you have forgotten me after all.

I'm sorry.

Was it important to you?

I came to see you, I waited for you
that night at the stage door.

You were very kind, you came out
and had supper with me.

We went to a German restaurant.

We drank May wine.

And the owner's son played
Schubert's "Serenade" on the violin.

Like a flower, darling, be.

He sings, too. There's no end
to the man's talents.

Three days, that's all it was.

And on Sunday, you and the rest
of your company caught a train for Ottawa.

I came to see you off...

That's all it was.

But how naughty of me to forget.

Later on, you must tell me more
of our old friendship.

- Not important.
- I'm glad you say that.

It means I didn't
break your heart.

There were so many attractive men
in Jessie Gerald's life.

So many broken hearts,
or so they said.

What an incorrigible flirt
she must have been.

I'm glad that I remember so little.

Maybe that of all the people who knew her,
you're the only one who could forget her.

Ah, you are nice.

No wonder I liked you.

Uh, Ottawa?
Ottawa, did you say?

- Toronto.
- For pity's sake,

don't tell me when it was.

We mustn't shock
George Druce.

He thinks of us as
his contemporaries.

He doesn't realize that we are
members of a lost civilization.

Yes, I know, the glory
that was Ottawa.

- Toronto.
- Toronto, sorry.

I expect I'll see you again
before my day in court.

Oh, yes, yes, several times,
it's essential, excuse me.

"I wish you well,
and so I take my leave."

Act IV, Scene One.

You've forgotten the important
part of the line, the beginning.

Oh?

"I pray you, know me
when we meet again."

Good day, Sir Arthur, George.

All right, Teplow.

I had no idea you two
had met before.

I say, what a coincidence, eh?

I was very worried in the beginning,
but by the time she left,

I thought you'd become
quite reconciled.

Reconciled?

- I could k*ll her.
- Arthur.

She didn't remember me.

Well, do you honestly
think she would?

I could tear her to pieces.

You're not serious.

Not? Look at me.

Why? What's she done to you?

She's ruined my life.

How did she ruin your life?

By forgetting three days
in a remote city

that happened, what,
more than twoscore years ago?

I haven't forgotten'.
I remember every moment

as if it had been today,
yesterday, and the day before.

You've been free to remember.

Between that time and now, she spent more
than 40 years as the wife of another man.

- You never married.
- I couldn't.

She spoiled me
for any other woman.

You don't understand quite yet,
do you, George?

Hasn't sunk in, has it?

- I loved her.
- Did she know that you did?

Oh my God, did she know'.
She loved me too'.

We loved each other'.
We were lovers.'

We made love continuously.

- Now can you understand?
- I'm beginning to.

For three days, yes, how nice,
we never left each other for an instant'.

We swore we'd be
together forever.

She was to go back to England
with her company, and I was to join her

in a year's time as soon as
I got my degree in law.

At the station that last morning,

we wept like children, both of us.

Her last words to me before
the train pulled away were:

"I love you."

I will always love you.

There are only two things
in the whole world I truly want:

"To be your wife
and to die before you."

The fire has gone out.

I must give it a prod.

It's too late. Do you want
some tea or something?

Yeah, I would like some, actually.

Have a drink, George,
a good stiff one.

I'm going to.

Oh, perfect.

- Tea is all right.
- No, let's go out, George.

I feel stuffy.

It's this way.

- Where to?
- Everywhere.

Home, the nearest pub.

The day I got back to London,

at the address I had
for her in Bloomsbury,

they told me she had married
Giles Medlicott the week before

and was now living in his princely estate
in Kent, 200 acres and about as many rooms.

My fortune at that time consisted of
exactly three pounds and ten shillings

and a letter of introduction
to a firm of solicitors

as a recommendation
for the position of junior clerk.

How dare she speak to me

about her love for Giles Medlicott?

And how his death spoiled and ruined
and overshadowed her life

after 40-odd years of it?

I had three days of love

and was forced to live on that
for the rest of my life.

- Where the hell is that pub?
- Straight ahead.

I'm going mad.

Fancy me out of all
the advocates in London,

after what she did to me,

being asked to defend her

against a young man's charge
of breach of promise'.

Now that's funny, George.
That's worth a laugh, eh, isn't it?

Yes, only we don't laugh.

You know, George, I didn't go and live
next to Petworth Place by chance.

I'd seen her a thousand times
over the years from a window,

from a carriage, from a motorcar,
from a box in the theater or opera.

Finally, we meet face to face
for the first time,

and what is my reward

after almost 50 years of devotion?

She doesn't remember me'.

God, I need that drink.

- Two whiskeys, please.
- A large one.

Doubles.

I expect you'll want to break off.

- Break off what?
- Off the case.

- You're going to accept the brief?
- Well, I already have, haven't I?

- Arthur...
- What?

Well, you have to put your personal feelings
completely to one side, you know that.

Surely, it goes without saying.

- Can you, do you think?
- Well, I must, mustn't I?

Yes.

Good Lord, yes.

It'd be fatal if the barrister
were to get tangled up

with the private man, the romantic.

I say, I never realized before,
I don't think anyone has.

You really are a romantic
at heart, aren't you?

Disappointed romantic.

Definition, please.

A man who dines alone in
a restaurant where there is music.

Oh.

Thank you.

Are you dining at home?

Yes, Ann is expecting me.

Look here, um,
will you come too?

Are you free?

My dear boy,
I'm freedom's prisoner.

- Ah, that's settled then.
- Good of you.

Success.

Success in what?

The trial, of course.

Ah.

The trial.

Uh, I'll be at your flat in an hour.

Don't be late,
we're having mutton.

- Oh, mutton.
- Dressed as a lamb, of course.

Sir, sir'.

Sir, it's my mistress.

- Will you come, please?
- Oh, certainly.

There.

- Ah, Sir Arthur.
- Mrs. Medlicott.

Nice of you to come.
Thank you, thank you.

Are you all right? She said,
"It's my mistress, will you come,"

- and, of course, I was afraid.
- No, no, I'm fine, I'm perfectly fine.

I just had to speak
to you, that's all.

There's something that's been on my mind
ever since I left your chambers,

something that troubles me terribly.

An impression I fear I may have left
you with and one I simply must correct

- or I shouldn't be able to sleep tonight.
- Oh, I see.

Over and over I've been saying
to myself, "What can he think of me?"

How can he possibly respect me, let alone
defend me, if I don't set this matter straight?

"I simply must see him as soon
as possible and talk to him, explain."

Oh, thank heavens.'

Uh, I beg your pardon?

You see, I think I understand
what it is you want to say to me.

- You do?
- Yes, it's something personal.

It's something to do with us.

Well, uh, no.

Yes, I mean.

Nat--naturally, it has
something to do with us,

but I shouldn't call it
"personal" exactly.

What is it you thought
I had to say?

No, no, no, go on.

No, I'm sorry I interrupted.

You tell me.

Well, now--now,
I've lost my place.

Lost your place?

I mean, uh, where was I?

You were saying to yourself
that you must see me--

Ah, yes'. Yes. Yes, yes.

- Now I remember.
- Yes, good, I'm listening.

Explain about Alfred Pratt.

- About...
- About Alfred Pratt.

You sent for me this evening to come
and see you to talk about Alfred Pratt?

Yes, of course.

Oh.

I see.

Do you?

Do you see?

Oh, I hope you don't

because I couldn't bear to leave you
with the wrong impression about him and me.

- No, no, naturally not.
- As my advocate,

it's important for you to believe
in my--in my inno--in me.

Otherwise, how can you be
expected to convince a jury?

This couldn't have waited
until the next interview?

Not possible, I want to tell you now,
this minute, tell you everything.

- Everything?
- Everything.

- No'.
- No?

- You can't'.
- Can't?

- No, I won't have it'.
- What?

I mean to say
it's against the law.

- Against the law?
- It is against the traditions of the profession.

No meeting between a barrister
and client shall take place

except in the presence
of said client's solicitor'.

- Why are you shouting?
- I beg your pardon.

I'm only trying to point out that you and I
are not permitted to discuss this case

as client and counsel without
George Druce standing about.

Very well then, fine, perfect.

We won't discuss it
as client and counsel.

We'll discuss it as old friends.

- Old friends?
- In fact, in fact,

we needn't discuss it at all, that way
no one will ever be able to suggest

that we even bent the law
a little, let alone broke it.

No, I shall simply tell you
what I have to tell you

and then you needn't say
anything at all if you don't want to.

Would you care to sit?

I'll take it standing up,
if you don't mind.

What a curious way to put it.

Very well, suit yourself.

In...

In your chambers today,
you said I loved him.

Loved Alfred Pratt.

You must know
that you are wrong.

You must understand
that I never loved him.

Moreover, you must
believe that I never,

that we never...

Oh, this is so humiliating'.

To talk about this is agony.

- If you'd rather not...
- No, no, it's all right.

How can I make this clear?

I know what you're thinking.

Forty years with a fine, upstanding,
distinguished man, and then this--this little...

Oh, you must think me
horribly depraved.

You must think me
an absolute tart.

Tart? Never.

- How could you...
- Don't be kind, don't be kind.

Everyone in London
thinks me infamous.

And I'm not trying
to excuse what I did.

As far as it went, no,
not as far as it went,

which I hope you
understand was not.

Oh, I'm thoroughly ashamed, ashamed to
have let the little weasel into my house,

let alone considered him
as a--as a...

Well, as anything at all.

- Why did you?
- Exactly? Why?

Don't you suppose I've asked myself
that question a thousand times?

Why, why? Oh, Lord.

Can you understand?

Can...

Can I possibly
make you understand?

I--I was lonely, I was alone
for the first time in 40 years.

A woman alone,
I felt shattered.

I had nothing to live for.

Oh, this house, the country place,
our villa in Monte Carlo, nothing really.

And then this boy appeared,
such a lovely looking boy,

so sweet, so attractive,
so concerned,

or so I thought.

It's an old story,
an old, old story, Sir Arthur,

and a rather pathetic one, I suppose.

I...

I lost my head.

For one mad, impetuous moment,
I lost my head'.

For one mad,
impetuous moment.

I see.

Then you--you were

genuinely attracted by him?

How you look at me,
how your eyes accuse me.

You haven't understood
at all, have you?

You think that I--you think that we...

I assure you, I think nothing at all,
it's not my place to think.

I swear to you, I swear to you, all we ever
did was sit or walk or take rides together.

We scarcely ever talked'.

He had no conversation, you see.

Oh, sometimes, he'd read
to me rather hauntingly

or play to me on the piano
rather clumsily.

Sometimes our hands
might touch very lightly.

Or--or I might permit him to kiss me
on the cheek or on the forehead,

but never once, not once
did he--did I--did we...

I quite understand what it is
you're trying to say to me.

- Do you?
- Quite.

Oh.

I'm glad.

After all...

...we are both
somewhat of an age.

Yes, of an age.

So, why shouldn't I understand?

What has--what has
age to do with it?

Our time of life,
a great deal, I should say.

And I should say speak for
yourself, if you don't mind'.

- I meant no offense.
- I see now that you have

misunderstood me completely'.

After all, I didn't say "couldn't," did I?

No, I said "didn't."

A difference that I consider
worth emphasizing even if you do not'.

- Sorry?
- Forgive me for saying so,

but none of this seems to have had
the effect on you that I'd hoped for.

I do hope that our next interview

will find you in a more
responsive frame of mind.

I do promise you that I shall
at all times be responsive.

Yes, please, because if
the subject of my innocence

proves as indifferent to the jury
as it appears to have done to you,

what chance will we have when
we go into court to try my case?

Morning, Granny.

I said, "Good morning, Granny."

I've told you repeatedly, Devine,
you're not to say that to me.

Not say good morning?
How very rude.

You know perfectly well what I mean.

- It's not my name.
- I can't call you Granville-Jones.

"Good morning, Granville-Jones."

It sounds so formal. You'd think
I didn't like you anymore.

- Don't be such an a*s.
- My, you are in a temper. Now what is the matter?

Nothing. Your wig is on crooked.

Hm, temper, truculent, and now
personal criticism into the bargain.

Aye, we are in a pit.

Surely it can't be the case.

I mean, it's fairly routine, isn't it?

Or is it?

Granny?

You may relish your reputation
as court jester, Devine,

but to me, you're nothing
but a ruddy great boor

and I wish what I always wish
whenever I see you.

- And what is that?
- I wish you'd go away.

That's the first time I've ever been able
to prick that thick skin of yours.

I shall be following your performance
with more than usual interest today.

Sir, this is the completed one.

Oh, it's the completed one?
Thank you.

Uh, thank you.

I'm watching you.

- Good morning, Jessica.
- Good morning.

- Glad to see you on time.
- Thank you.

Now what does Davis do?

In the fourth row, Miss Davis.

Yes, just sit.

You and I sit here in front.

Now what is it?

I see our friend, Granville-Jones.

- Yes, with Mr. Devine.
- Hm, chatting to the enemy.

Very surprising man you've
nominated for my advocate, George.

I could feel his eyes on me
just now, right across the room,

as if he were willing me
to notice him.

He has no children, has he?

- He has no wife.
- That's not an answer.

Why the question?

Something patriarchal about him.

Have you never felt that he wants to
thrash you and caress you all at once,

like some cruel, fond parent?

Good heavens, no.

He has a nice,
easy stride, hasn't he?

I must say, he's
very well put together...

- Jessica...
- ...for a man of his age.

Here he comes.
Good morning.

Good morning.
Good morning, George.

- Arthur.
- Ready for the inquisition?

Going to court is like
going to the dentist.

One is resigned
but never ready.

Haven't had a look
at the plaintiff yet.

He hasn't arrived yet.

Look at that lawyer.

Scandal buggers, all of them.

You see these?
Gentlemen of the press.

Frightened?

Apprehensive.

Oh, dear.

You look especially grand this morning.

- Yes, doesn't she?
- Yes.

That's not praise,
George, it's criticism.

I did suggest that in a case like this, a
simple bonnet and shawl might be more suitable

than a Paris gown
and a sensational...

It's a hat. Are you angry with me?

I should be, but it's hard when
the effect is so undeniably pretty.

There now, you see how little effort
it takes to be charming.

When you're like this, I can almost visualize
the young gallant you must have been.

She brought it up,
George, not I.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

Ahem.

- Enter the beautiful prince...
- Young Pratt.

...who is, in reality, a toad.

It's the fairy tale in reverse.

I can understand why
you might have loved him.

I never did, I told you before.

I hadn't seen him before.

Silence.'

Be upstanding for his Lordship.

God save the King'.

This is jury case
number 22 of 1911,

Alfred Pratt, plaintiff, versus
Mrs. Giles Medlicott, defendant.

Nothing is so much on my mind
as I stand before you today, gentlemen,

as the extreme delicacy
of the position in which my client

and his counsel
find themselves placed.

I have only just spoken of the Englishman's
sense of honor and fair play,

yet, here come we
to accuse a lady.

A lady of high social position,

a lady of impeccable reputation,

a lady who, although no longer
in the first flush of youth perhaps,

is still justly celebrated
for her beauty and charm,

her youthful spirit, her elegance,
her wit, her brilliance in conversation,

her fine, clear, penetrating intelligence.

In short, all questions
of chronological age to one side,

a lady, gentlemen,
a lady very much to be admired,

to be sought after.

To be loved, if you will.

And now, the defense will no doubt harp
on that old refrain,

"The folly of a May-December match,"

but, oh, gentlemen,

if this be December,

were it not folly to wait for spring?

I swear by Almighty God
that the evidence I shall give

shall be the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth.

Your name is Hermione Davis.

Yes, sir.

- Speak up.
- Uh, yes, sir.

And you are Mrs. Medlicott's housekeeper,
are you not?

For more than 30 years.

Oh, you were with her then
when the late Mr. Medlicott was alive?

I was. God rest him.

There was a man.

And you were with her, of course,
when Alfred Pratt came into her life.

In fact, you were, I believe,

in the room at the very time
that he proposed marriage to her.

Is that so?

I was in the house.

Unhappily,
that does not satisfy my question.

The witness must answer either yes or no.

But I'm not sure, I was passing
to and fro from pantry to sitting room.

It was tea time, you see.

No need to excite yourself, Ms. Davis.

Simply tell us whether or not you heard Alfred
Pratt ask Mrs. Medlicott to be his wife.

I might have done.

Might have done?

I'm fairly nervous
being in court and all.

It's--it's the first time.

You're doing splendidly.

Perhaps you'd prefer to tell us,
in your own way,

just when it was you learned that, uh, your
mistress was betrothed to the plaintiff.

I'm sorry, I've no mind
for dates and such like.

Everyone says I've a head like a sieve.

I see.

You simply don't remember, is that it?

I'm sorry.

Well, not to worry.

I'm sure we all understand perfectly.

You are devoted to the lady.

You would never do or say anything
to distress or anger her, would you?

- Certainly not.
- Certainly not.

After all, you have
your position to think of.

Thank you very much, Ms. Davis.

No further questions.

I told you, I told you he wouldn't get
anything out of Davis.

He's gotten precisely
what he wanted, Mrs. Medlicott.

Ms. Davis,

can you by any chance tell me

exactly the date upon which
you entered Mrs. Medlicott's service?

Yes, sir, it was the 3rd of January, 1880.

Thirty years, more than thirty,

and yet you say you have no mind
for dates and such like.

Well, I...

Ms. Davis, I suggest not only have you
an excellent mind for dates and such like,

but that you also have a remarkable
memory for detail of every sort.

Yes.

No, I...

No, and yet the incident to which
Mr. Devine suggests you were a witness

occurred as recently
as the 12th day of September last.

Ms. Davis, think, think hard.

You're an intelligent woman.

You know that the least suggestion
of perjury

can be as dangerous
as a formal charge.

Perjury?

No, when I say "witness,"
you must understand

I don't mean in the legal
sense as at a wedding.

I only mean that you
were present at the time.

There's no more than that.

Well, if you put it like that, sir,
but yes, I was in the room.

It was when I came in to see
if the maid could serve tea.

And you heard the young man propose.

- Yes.
- And you heard Mrs. Medlicott accept.

I suppose I must have done.

Why didn't you tell that
to counsel for the plaintiff?

To the who?

Mr. Devine.

I don't know, sir.

Was it because you were afraid you might
be thought a prying sort of person,

that the jury might think of you
as little better than an eavesdropper?

Milord, with respect,
counsel is leading the witness.

Question withdrawn.

I'm sure the gentlemen of the jury
will understand and sympathize

with Ms. Davis's confused state of mind
during my learned friend's examination.

Thank you, Ms. Davis.

You may leave now.

Mrs. Fanny Pratt
to the witness box, please.

I think this would be an opportune moment
to adjourn for lunch

until we sit again
at 10 minutes past 2 o'clock.

Have you any idea what you've done?

You've done what the
other side couldn't do.

You've hectored that good, loyal woman
into giving evidence against me.

- Now, look...
- No, thank you, I'm not helpless.

- Where are you taking us, by the way?
- You'll see.

- Did you hear what I said just now?
- Yes, I had my reasons.

"Which reason knoweth not."
Pascal.

Oh, thank you.

I say, what a charming place.

I've never been here before.
Is it French?

- German.
- Ah.

Back in a tick.

No, no, I think here is... fine.

No, don't bother.

Keep going, I want to hear
about my housekeeper.

Oh, it's very simple really.

The impression given was
that Ms. Davis was withholding information

because of your influence over her.

- Nonsense'.
- It's not nonsense.

- Did you influence her?
- Certainly not'.

What do you take me for?

What exactly did you say to her
before you came to the court?

I--I said what anyone
in my position would say.

I said if they ask you--
try to make you give evidence against me,

plead a faulty memory.

Oh.

Yes, I thought as much,
and so did the jury.

Don't you see that by doing that,
you forced me to hector

that poor, good, loyal woman?

- I did?
- Yes, you did.

Don't you realize that I had to discredit
her earlier evidence, then?

- I?
- Yes, you, you.

All right.

Don't apologize.

I never apologize,

but none of us are so virtuous
that we don't make mistakes,

but apologizing is such a waste of time.

Even when our mistakes
offend and hurt other people?

When did apology ever mend a harm?

Hear what they're playing?

Yes.

Don't you recognize it?

Yes.

It's the song you sang to me that day,

that first day outside your chambers.

Don't you remember anything else about it?

You said we heard it together
all those years ago in, um, Ottawa.

- Toronto.
- Toronto.

Yes, we did.

Thee is love, thee is wine.

But more, much more.

Thee is sun when the days are cold.

Someone's eating fish.

Do you know what I wish?

I'm not sure I want to know,
but we'd better order.

- Oh, it's all ordered.
- Oh.

- What on earth is this?
- Sauerbraten.

- Sauerbraten?
- With sauerkraut.

You can't be serious.

Just everything as it was in Toronto.

What's more, they've even done us
a schaum torte

with strawberries and cream
for finishing with.

All this for lunch,
and I should have indigestion for a week.

Lovely, pour some for Madame.

No, no, no, it will make me drunk.

It is May wine, May wine.

Remember, you can't refuse.

Well, I must.

I--I--I should fall asleep
halfway through the afternoon.

- But the dreams.
- No, my friend, thank you, but no.

They've taken such pains.

I'm sure.
Obviously, so have you.

But, uh, whatever you're thinking of,
I'm thinking of the courthouse

and the trial and--

Ah, George.

This is for you.

I really--I really daren't.

I shall have egg and milk, please.

- Egg and milk?
- Egg and milk.

Egg and milk'.
Egg and milk, please.

- And a little toast.
- And a little toast.

Would it change anything if...

if I should say I'm sorry?

Mind you,
she didn't say anything right off,

but you could see that she was
deeply moved, deeply moved.

She says, "Alfred, I am deeply moved."

He says, "Mrs. M.,
you have only to say the word"

that will make me
the happiest man in England."

She says, "Well, if you really want me."

He says, "Oh, I do. Indeed, I do."

She says, "Then I expect
I shall have to say yes."

And we all have a nice cry and a glass
of that sticky green stuff with our tea.

Uh, sticky green stuff?

Chartreuse, I think they call it.
You know, French.

- Chartreuse.
- That's the stuff, yes.

It's a bit sugary for my taste, but still,
it is served in all the best houses.

Yes, now, Mrs. Pratt,
you were never, at any time, disturbed

by the, uh, disparity of age
between your son and the defendant?

The what?

Beg your pardon, the difference in age

between your son and the defendant.

Oh, bless you, sir, not at all.

I mean, in many ways,
she's a good deal younger than my Alfie.

I mean, he's a very serious person.

You know, old for his years
the way she's quite young for hers.

No, truly, I felt it was
a very suitable match.

Very suitable indeed.

Come, Mrs. Pratt.

I appeal to you as a mother,

as a level-headed mother.

Can you, in all conscience,

look at these two people
as they are here today

and say that their betrothal didn't
strike you as the least bit improper?

Well, they're apart now, aren't they?

It's a bit of a muddle, all this.

And they're showing the strain,
especially Alfred.

But if you could've seen them
together as I did, all... lovey-dovey.

All what?

Lovey-dovey, Milord.

They were ever so nice together.

Playful as two kittens, they were.

Always whispering in corners and...

fondling and stroking one another.

By, uh, fondling and stroking,

I take it you mean that, uh,
sometimes Mrs. Medlicott's hand

might brush up against that of your son
while they were seated at the piano

or in some...

At the piano?

Lord, love you.

They never needed no piano
nor any other instrument to start them...

fribbling and frolicking about.

Fribbling and frolicking...

What was that?

Fribbling and frolicking, Milord.

It's true.

It's true, it seemed like
she couldn't get enough of me.

My mum, my mama used to say,

"If I was a custard,
Mrs. M. would've ate me with a spoon."

In other words, Mr. Pratt,
the lady doted on your company.

Well, that's one way of putting it,
if you take my meaning.

Of course, you'll realize all this
goes against the grain, don't you?

I mean, all this sort of thing.

It isn't easy for a man of any character
to talk about in public.

Don't seem very chivalrous, does it?

But then, being under oath and all,
one has to speak the truth, ain't he?

Hasn't he--hasn't...

What was the question?

Beg your pardon, Milord.

Mr. Pratt, I ask you again,
please try to be less discursive.

Yes or no this time, right?

Now, the lady doted on your company,
did she not?

- Yes, sir, she did and all.
- Good, well done. Now...

After you had met her
whilst on shore leave

and you attempted to return to your ship,
she detained you, did she not?

- She did, she wouldn't let me out of her sight'.
- Mr. Pratt'.

"Don't leave me, Squidgy," she'd say.

"Oh, Squidgy, never leave me'.

Without you,
my life would hardly be worth living."

Her exact words, I swear.

Why did, uh, she call you...

Squidgy?

She used to say I was all squidgy
and nice to touch.

Squidgy?

It was one of her pet names for me.

And so, at Mrs. Medlicott's urging,

you gave up your position
aboard the SS Mauretania?

I gave up everything, I did.
My career, my expectations, the lot.

And I'd have given up more if I'd had more to give
once I realized I'd found the girl of my dreams.

The "girl"?
The "girl," Mr. Pratt?

Yes, sir, truly.

For on my honor as an Englishman
and a former ship's officer,

she is a girl
in every important sense of the word.

Is she?

Passionate nature
like you wouldn't expect to find

outside of Spain
or the Canary Islands.

What are the Canary Islands
to do with this case?

Well, the point I'm trying to make...

is that it's a load of old rubbish

for anyone to try and say
me and Mrs. M. was unsuited to each other.

- Young man...
- I mean, anyone that wasn't there

never actually saw us together...

Not so fast for His Lordship's pen.

Lies'.

Slander. Object. Why don't you?

God help me, I still love her,

even though she's broken
her solemn promise to me,

just as I loved her
before I'd ever even met her.

Loved her before you met her?

I know, I know, it sounds daft,

but, well, Mum had written to me
such a lot about her

and I reckon I was in love with Mrs. M.
before I ever laid hands--

eyes on her.

Every particle of her is precious to me,

from her dainty little foot
to the least hair on her head.

Mr. Pratt, you are wandering again.

Don't go too far.

I mean, but does that sound like something
you'd say to a woman that's too old for you?

No, it don't, by George,
too old indeed.

What rot'.

I mean, it's as ridiculous on the face
of it as the other gentlemen implying

me and my mum's no better
than to pair a common fortune unto us,

which God in heaven knows we ain't.

Aren't.

- Aren't.
- Are.

Mr. Pratt, that is quite enough.

I know, I know,
I've said more than a gentleman ought,

but it's only for the one purpose
and one purpose only,

and that's to put the lid
on all this talk of age'.

What's for--a few years one way
or the other to a man in love?

If only you could see her with my eyes.

Yes, Mr. Pratt, that would be
a help to us, no doubt.

Why, in my eyes, she's no age at all.

You've only to look at her.

I assure you I do'.

We all do'.

Constantly.

With pleasure.

They've even had photographs
taken of them.

Mr. Devine, for the benefit of the jury,
can we clarify the situation

regarding the photographs
your client has referred to?

Yes, Milord.

How did your mother meet Mrs. Medlicott?

- They met at a flower show.
- A flower show?

Yes, Milord, the Royal
Horticultural Society's annual show.

They became quite friendly,
my mum--my mother and Mrs. Medlicott.

- Friendly?
- Yes, Milord...

The quality of mercy
is not strained.

It droppeth as the gentle rain
from heaven upon the place beneath.

It is twice blessed.

It blesseth him that gives
and him that takes.

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest.

Yes.

Oh, yes.

You see me, Lord Bassanio,
where I stand such as I am.

Oh, yes.

Though for myself alone,

I would not be ambitious in my wish
to wish myself much better,

yet for you I would be trebled
twenty times myself,

a thousand times more fair,
ten thousand times more rich...

Lady, you have bereft me of all words.

Only my blood speaks to you in my veins.

And there is such confusion in my powers...

- sir Arthur!
- ...as after some oration...

- Sir Arthur!
- ...from a beloved...

- What's wrong with him?
- I think he's...

- Sir Arthur?
- Sir Arthur?

- Milord?
- We are waiting.

- Beg your pardon, Milord.
- Did we understand you

to mutter something
about your veins?

- My veins, Milord?
- I also thought we heard you say something

about confusion in your powers.

The witness is yours now.

Thank you, Milord.

- No questions.
- No questions?

No questions?

No questions?
Indeed, the man is mad'.

- Silence.'
- In that event,

in view of the hour, we will adjourn
until 10 o'clock tomorrow morning.

Silence.' Be upstanding for His Lordship'.

It was all that wine with lunch, no doubt,
and all that goulash.

Goulash. Did you hear that,
"all that goulash"?

Your one chance to cross-examine
Alfred Pratt, and you bungled it.

- Bother Alfred Pratt'.
- What did you say?

- Bother him'.
- Hear, hear.

No tantrums on the stairs, please.
Do you mind?

We're all very worried about you,
you and your veins.

Push off, Devine.'

Mad, bad, dangerous to know.

In my view, the little bounder
was his own bloody cross-examination.

A shade too slick,
too cunning for words,

our little Alfie, but never fear.

I shall deal with him in my own time
and in my own way.

Meanwhile, I think my silence
has provoked their curiosity

and even increased
their suspicion of the boy.

How ingenious'.

And to think that it all came to you
in your sleep,

as the story of Jekyll and Hyde
is said to have come to Mr. Stevenson.

Once more, I was not asleep'.

I admit my mind wandered.

You could hardly deny it.

And a bloody good thing too'.

You seem to fancy that word.

I must tell you that I do not.

Bloody good thing for you, Mrs. M.,
and for your case,

and if I may mention it,
your fortune'.

Don't you snarl at me.'
I'm not on trial here.

- You are, you know.
- Oh, shut up'.

Oh, come on'.

A bloody good thing you said for me
and my defense.

- Why?
- Doesn't matter.

Oh, don't be a child'.

Why, for God's sake?

Because, in what you are pleased
to call my sleep,

I saw, saw quite clearly
the way this case is going,

going for the plaintiff, and happily
saw it in time to plug the dike.

Plug the dike?

Well, what exactly did you see, Arthur?

After listening for hours to Dr. Devine
applying his magical rejuvenating elixir,

I suddenly looked at you

and I saw what I knew
the jury was seeing too.

Quite miraculously,
under the tidal wave of blarney and bunkum,

you would actually become the vision that he'd
been trying to conjure up all the afternoon,

and as soon as I came to,
I said to myself that,

"Dear God, we have deliberately played
into their hands."

- We?
- Yes, we.

We had helped them
to light the fuse

under the only effective defense
that you have.

- Which is?
- That your age has placed you

so far beyond the reach
of Alfred Pratt,

it was unseemly,
reaching up for you.

Thank you.

But...

Oh, forgive me if that sounds blunt,
but there it is.

After all, all you wanted was to live out
the rest of your life, I think you said,

very, very quietly.

Hmm?

Yes, well, here are my instructions,

which I expect you to listen to, to pay
heed to, and follow to the last letter.

Understand?

That has the disagreeable ring of an edict.

Be quiet, please.

You will come to the courtroom tomorrow dressed
as befits your age and your situation.

No more frills, no more feathers,
no more folderol,

though it's so stylish and...

It's positively affronting'.

I'll wear a hale shirt
and a humble expression.

You will wear the least assertive
gown and bonnet that you own--

Nobody under 70 wears a bonnet'.

Exactly'.

Pity, gentlemen...

Pity the poor widow woman...

Jessica, please'.

What does he say?

Mexican peas?

No, thank you, it sounds most unappetizing.

I could be angry with you in a minute.

I shouldn't like that.

I'll say goodnight.

Goodnight?

Where the devil does that leave us?

Waiting at the church.

That's not worthy of you, George.

Sorry, I meant to say "in the lurch."

- Oh.
- Not much better?

Well, I actually meant to say, I expect
it leaves us to find our own way out.

Unbelievable.

Silence.' Be upstanding for His Lordship'.

Where is she, man, where is she?

- Dear God.
- God save the King.

Pratt vs. Medlicott, second day.

Gentlemen, you've heard the case
of the plaintiff.

You will now here Sir Arthur Granville-Jones
present his case for the defendant.

Please the Lordship,
gentlemen of the jury,

the defense reserves the bulk
of its argument for its closing speech.

There will be no opening speech and there
will be only one witness, Jessica Medlicott.

Go on now.

Four shirts, two shillings,
eight colors, one...

Beg the court a pardon.

Was that your laundry?

Someone's been mucking about with my cards.

I swear by Almighty God
that the evidence I shall give

shall be the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth.

What is your name?

Jessica Medlicott.

Where do you live?

Number 5, Petworth Place, Regent's Park.

And what is your age?

Did you not hear the question?

- I asked you your age.
- I heard the question.

I could not believe
that you had asked it.

Don't you want the jury
to know how old you are?

I cannot think that it is any
of their business.

I don't know their ages.
Why should they know mine?

Silence.'

So you won't say in what year
you were born then?

I was born in the year of my birth.

I assure you, it's quite customary
to tell one's age in the witness box.

And I assure you that it is quite
incompatible with civilized behavior.

No gentleman would dream
of insisting upon it.

I am sure my learned opponent
would agree with you wholeheartedly.

How he would like us all to believe
that all such things as birth certificates

should be ignored or even suppressed.

Neither in my case, merely lost.

How lost, in a fire?

In a fire, exactly.

And what fire was that, Mrs. Medlicott?

Any fire you like.

The Great Fire of London?

The Great Fire of London was in--

1666.

Silence.'

Silence.'

I was right.

You are no gentleman.

Well said, Mrs. Medlicott.

Clearly, my learned friend
is in the wrong box

when he implies that your manner
and your mode of dress

might tend to prejudice your defense.

I dare say there are plenty
who find both most becoming.

Most becoming.

I am just as I appear to be.

Exactly. We are indeed happy to see that,
in spite of any advice to the contrary,

you have the courage to be yourself.

And I am happy to see
that there is someone here

who knows how to behave
toward a lady.

Milord, what is the purpose
of this orgy of reciprocal backscratching?

Oh, sit down.

Madam'.

You're making yourself ridiculous.

I don't make myself ridiculous.

I have you for that.

Mrs. Medlicott'.

Mrs. Medlicott has described, under oath,

how the plaintiff's mother labored
to ingratiate her young son

with the older woman

and how the boy himself
flattered and wooed the lady,

appealing to her feminine vanity,

much as his counsel has attempted to do
during the conduct of this trial.

Indeed, were we to accept
my learned friend's attempts

at retouching and restoring
nature's canvas,

we would see before us here
a picture of perfect suitability,

of two lovers ideally matched,
unquestionably equal.

Gentlemen, look at this woman.

Look at her'.

Oh, pray, do not be misled
by the costume,

which would, of course, be most appropriate
were this the eternally youthful nymph

of Mr. Devine's wayward
and, not to say, wanton imaginings,

but which, in the circumstances, is, at
the very least of it, silly and unsuitable

and, at the very worst of it,
pitiful and ridiculous.

No, gentlemen, I invite you
to look beneath the costume,

in manner of speaking,
just as I invite you to look

beneath the young man's mask
of pious and sincere devotion.

Gentlemen, can you, in all conscience,
see these two at the altar?

On their honeymoon?

In a cottage?

Outdoors, running, gaming, sporting,

in the hundred ways that are the province
of bride and groom?

Tell me, are there children
in that fantasy?

A daughter to perpetuate
her mother's beauty?

A son to carry on
the name of Pratt?

No, gentlemen.

It is, by heaven, it is unlikely
as it is unseemly and unnatural

to imagine this shackled for life--
for what is left of her life, to this.

Here is an individual so low

that he will bargain away his youth,
the brave, young manhood,

for a mess of pottage
and 30 pieces of silver

and the feeble, impotent embrace

of this crumbled, pathetic ruin
of a once great lady'.

- What's that?
- Mrs. Fanny Pratt...

Crumbled, pathetic ruin?

Silence.'

Silence be damned'.

I will not have that in the record'.

Madam, any further interference on your
part and I'll have you removed from court.

- This is an outrage, an outrage'.
- It is nothing to your behavior.'

Sit down.

Mrs. Fanny Pratt,
that indefatigable matchmaker,

sent a photograph of my client
to her son

who then developed
a mad, aming passion for his lady love

without ever laying hands--
eyes on her.

We need not seek far in the literature
of Venus and Cupid to find his prototype,

for, like the crackpot in the old farce,

poor, passionate Alfred fell in love
with a picture of his grandmother,

perhaps in this case
a picture of his great-grandmother,

the poor, palpitating bride-to-be who,
trembling on the threshold of senility,

lost her head for one mad,
impetuous moment'.

Lout'.

- Not another word'.
- Silence'.

- Silence him'.
- Be quiet'.

Once and for all,
will you sit down and be silent?

No, I will not'.

Usher her away, Tipstaff.

I demand a censor for this vermin,
this viper, this venturous blaggard'.

Touch me at your peril.'

Now, Madame, will you kindly accompany me?

Be careful, she's very frail.

I'll give you frail.'

You will give nothing to anyone.

Accompany this gentleman.
Do you hear?

Gentleman?'.

Scum'.

I'm going.

Gladly.

There isn't a gentleman in this room.

Whoever said that chivalry
is dead in England

should be here today
to see it's buried

and its corpse is great'.

Silence.'

Mine'.

Any further demonstration of this kind,
and I shall clear the court.

Alas, a most unfortunate
display, gentlemen,

and yet, not without a certain value
if we look upon what we have just seen

not merely as the misbehavior
of one rather desperate old woman,

but as a metaphor for age itself,

the dimming of all our precious faculties.

The Book of Psalms, we read,

"I have been young
and now am old,

yet have I not seen
the righteous forsaken."

You will not forsake
Jessica Medlicott, gentlemen.

You will not abandon her to the wiles
of those who would use her, bleed her,

and hold her up to ridicule.

Oh, she has been...

she has been tiresome, I know.

She's been careless
and headstrong and rash,

but she's not deserved your contempt.

Remember, for 40 years,
she was a devoted wife.

For a few days,
a few weeks at most,

she fell from grace out of a longing,
a melancholy, out of loneliness.

She fell.

"And the devil hath power
to assume a pleasing shape."

The Alfred Pratts of this world,
to the world's misfortune,

always appear in pleasing shapes
and sizes,

the better to seduce
the unwary and vulnerable,

clothing their malicious motives
in fine words.

The finest word that we've heard
from the mouth of that clever lad

and the one most degraded
by the mere fact of his having spoken it,

is that most precious of words
- love.

Love.

Dr. Johnson, in all his--
all his perversity,

tells us that love is the wisdom of
the fool and the folly of the wise,

or to those who would prefer
to believe with Dryden,

that love is the finest frailty of
the mind, but however we define it,

we cannot mistake it for a hypocrisy,
for cupidity, for cunning.

We cannot look upon greed
and call that love.

We cannot and must not reward
so vile a counterfeit.

The girl?

The girl that Jessica Medlicott once was

is gone and will not come again.

The day when she might have joined
her life with that of a young man,

her contemporary, is past.

Like her, such a youth
can be young no longer,

but were he here,
he would remember for us

the wonder of that young girl,

of their young love, and he would
say to us, "Yes, she was doting."

She was passionate.

She was a thousand times more exciting
and dynamic

than ever this ignominious little prat
could've suspected, let alone understood'.

She had more dignity, more delicacy,
and pride than any of you could know,

who have smirked on us here
and witnessed her humiliation.

Were he a man prone to quote,

he might then wish to
comfort and reassure her

in the voice of the only
begetter of the sonnets,

"To me, fair friend, you never can be old,"

for as you were when first your eye I eyed,

"such seems your beauty now."

"And ruined love,
when that it grows anew,"

shows fairer than at first,

"more strong, far greater."

It is love that is on trial
here, gentlemen,

the honor and integrity of love itself.

In finding for my client,
you will find for yourselves,

you'll find for us all,
and for those who come after us.

It is with the utmost confidence
in your fairness and good judgment

that the defense rests its case.

Silence.'

Foreman, have you agreed
upon your verdict?

We have.

Do you find for the plaintiff
or the defendant?

For the defendant.

Silence.'

Silence in this court'.

Milord, the jury having found
in favor of my client,

I would respectfully ask
for judgment and for costs.

So be it.

I will award judgment
to your client, Sir Arthur,

and also costs to this action.

Thank you, gentlemen of the jury.

You are dismissed.

- Magnificent'.
- Thank you.

She was furious,
but we have to find her.

Well, never mind, you won'.

Very good.
George, will you go and find her?

She's liable to take my head off.

- George, please'.
- You were absolutely magnificent.

- Very good speech, sir.
- Thank you.

George, will you go?

Jessica? Jessica?

Jessica?

Jessica?

Oh.

- Knaves.
- Jessica, we won'.

Queens.

That's 7,800 pounds you owe me.

I'll send you around a check
in the morning, shall I?

- Any time, any time.
- Did you hear what I said?

Certainly I heard.
I'm not deaf, you know, not yet.

- Thank you.
- You--you don't seem at all surprised.

- I'm not.
- Well, you mean you knew we'd win?

Naturally.

Well, have you any idea
how close you came to botching it?

- Botching it?
- It's a good job you had Arthur Granville-Jones there

to take what you were doing
and turn it to our advantage.

Yes, I seemed to inspire him to heights
of rhetorical brilliance, didn't I?

Indeed you did, I've never heard him
more articulate, more eloquent.

But as for you,
you were a very naughty girl.

- Why do you say that?
- You deliberately flouted his instructions.

But George, look, I'm only asking,
but if I'd done as he said,

if I'd simply sat there quietly
like a good little girl,

a good little girl of 90 or 95...

- Yes.
- Would it have been the same, do you think?

Would that have inspired him
to anything at all?

Tell me if I'm wrong, but weren't we
very much more in danger of losing

with anything as tame as that?

- You devil'.
- What?

- You did it'.
- No.

You--you did'.

You gave him a fool whom he could attack
and ridicule without compunction'.

- No, no, no, no'.
- You actress, you.'

Why, I haven't been on the stage
for more than 40 years.'

- Where is he?
- Come along.

Oh, he'll be crushed
when he finds out.

Finds out?

I promise you, if you ever breathe
a word of it to him, I'll deny everything.

I'll denounce you as a liar,
I'll cross you off my list.

- Oh, I say'.
- No, you don't say'.

That's the whole point,
you don't say a word'.

Well, as much as it hurts, Granny,
I've got to hand it to you.

Oh, that's very good of you.

I admit it took me
completely off my guard.

I tell you, when I looked up
and saw her come in in that incredible--

Well, I'll be off then.

Down to the Wig & Pen,
drown my sorrows in a pint of bitter.

Go easy on the champagne, now, would you?

Remember, it was your man Dryden who said,

"Even victors are by victory undone."

I know, "Push off, Devine."

Oh.

Ma'am.

A loser's kiss.

Dear lady, adieu.

Adieu.

Yes, well, uh, I'll be on my way as well.

I've a client waiting in my office.

- Bye.
- Arthur.

Bye-bye, George.
Thank you.

Cheerio.

- I was brutal to you in there.
- You couldn't help it.

- You mean that?
- There was nothing else to be done.

- You understand I didn't...
- I understand you perfectly.

There at the end, it seemed to be just a
choice between your dignity or your fortune.

There was no apparent way
you could get both,

and so I--I thought that, uh,

that your dignity was a bit expensive
at 40,000 pounds.

- Fifty, you were right.
- Fifty.

You did exactly what you had to do,
and you did it brilliantly.

You--you were wonderful.

Oh, I'm so pleased
to hear you say that'.

Because it would be simply awful
if you felt,

though if anybody said,
"Oh, yes, he got her off, all right,"

but what a way to go about it.

I mean, it was as if he was
punishing her himself.

It was as if she--he was trying
to get his own back

"for what she did to him
all those years ago."

And if you had done, what of it?
After all, I wounded you once.

And I wasn't the only one, was I?

There was your dear mother dying
when you were no bigger than that.

That's true.

I always have rotten luck with women.

That aunt of yours,
the one you were so attached to.

- Aunt Lottie.
- That's the one, ran away with a policeman.

- Mounted policeman. I was just 14.
- No.

- The worst possible time.
- Yes.

My voice was just beginning to change,
if you see what I mean.

Of course.

And then there was my childhood sweetheart
that everybody supposed I was going to marry.

She fell afoul of some germ or other
and I had to go to--to Italy for a cure.

The cure was so successful that she
went into a convent out of gratitude.

- Remarkable.
Yes, remarkable indeed,

when you think
she wasn't even a Catholic.

Then in my twenties, to be...

To be jilted by Jessica Gerald.

Jilted by Jessica Gerald.

Has a music all its own.

Yes, and who's to say
you weren't entitled

to get a little of your own back
on all of us?

Oh, but that sounds contemptable.
That sounds like revenge.

Well, where's the harm
in a little revenge?

Oh, I'm not like that.

No, of course you're not.

Hold on'.

What you said just now
about my mother and the rest.

How did you know all that?

- You must've told me.
- When?

When? Well, uh,

when--when I came to your chambers
or when you came to my house, I suppose.

No.

It was 40 years ago in Toronto.

- Are you sure?
- Positive.

Oh.

You remember, don't you?

I suppose I must.

When--when did you first remember?

Was it always?
Was it from the first,

from the first day that George came
and brought you to see me?

No, no, truly.

When then?

I'm not sure.

A little patch here and there.

What exactly do you remember
at this instant now?

You'd be surprised.

Toronto?

The Princess Theatre.

The stage door?

You had on a tight frock coat
someone had lent you,

and your hair was all mussed from
snatching your hat off when I came out.

You thought me ridiculous.

I thought you, why,
the funniest, most attractive young man

I'd seen on the whole tour.

You were adorable.

What else do you remember?

Who knows?

Perhaps when I've remembered everything,
you'll be free to forget.

- Jessie.
- Granny.

You're the only person I allow
to call me that, you know.

I'm the only one who said it with love.

- Why did you abandon me?
- It was--it was you, you who abandoned me.

- You went off without me.
- You sent me'.

I was going to follow,
I was going to join you'.

In a year or more'.
A year at that age, it's an eternity.

I begged you not to let me go,
I begged you to keep me with you.

- I had no income.'
- I didn't care'.

Oh, you cared'.

You cared, all right'.

It's true.

I had a horror of poverty.

I...

I was terrified you mightn't get on

and there we'd be
with half a dozen hungry children

in Putney or Peckham Rye
in two wretched rooms

and we'd grow to hate each other the
way my mother and father did at the end.

Well...

perhaps we should put
all that behind us now.

Whatever we've done, here we are,
we still exist, we've survived.

A couple of relics.

Perhaps.

Let's make the best of it.

Coming?

Excuse me.
I do hope you don't think me too bold,

but I saw the play tonight
and I thought you most awfully good,

- and I just had to come and tell you...
- I don't think you're too bold.

I don't think you're bold at all.
I think you're sweet.

Do you really?

Do you think you could possibly consider
having supper with me?

- I hate eating alone.
- Consider it? I'd leap at it.

- Would you really?
- Somewhere with violins.

- Violins it is'.
- But no goulash.

You never said that.

No, but I should have.

Arthur Granville-Jones.

- With a hyphen?
- A hyphen, yes.

I like hyphens.
They inspire confidence.

- Jessie Gerald.
- Oh, yes, I know, I read my program.

Well, shall we make a start?

- A start?
- Yes, a sort of a start.

A... late start.

Wait a minute.

Your hair's all mussed.

There, that's better.

"Grow old along with me.

The best is yet to be."

Dryden?

Browning.

I accept.