Oh, I don't want love. I don't want to know you.
I want to be gone out of myself, I want you to be lost to yourself,
so we are found different.
We shouldn't talk when we are tired and wretched.
Say you love me. Say "my love" to me.
I love you right enough. I just want it to be something else.
Why? Why?
Why isn't it enough?
- Because we can go one better. - We can only say we love each other.
Say "my love" to me.
Say it.
Yes... my love.
Yes, my love.
Let love be enough, then.
I love you, then.
I'm bored by the rest.
Say you love me.
Please, oh, please.
Say you love me. Say it.
Say it. Say it.
Please. Oh, no.
- Please. - Yes.
I do love you.
Ursula...
Must it be like this?
She killed him.
What did he mean?
Perhaps it's better to die than to live mechanically.
A life that's repetition, repetition.
By God, I'd just reached the conclusion that nothing mattered
except somebody to take the edge off one's being alone.
- The right somebody. - Meaning the right woman, I suppose?
Yes, of course. Failing that, an amusing man.
Well, if you're bored, why not try hitting something?
Possibly. Providing it was something worth hitting.
- You ever done any boxing? - No.
- Oh, you mean you may as well hit me? - You?
You?
Yes, perhaps in a... friendly sort of way, of course.
Well, quite.
I never learnt the gentlemanly art.
You know, I've got the feeling that...
if I don't watch myself, I shall do something silly.
Why not do it?
I used to do Japanese-style wrestling.
I was never very good at it. Those things don't interest me.
Don't they?
They do, me.
How do you start?
Well... you can't do much in a stuffed shirt.
- Let's strip and do it properly. - Very good.
You come at me any way you want and I'll try and get out of it.
Admirable.
That's good.
Yes! Yes!
Was it... too much for you?
No.
No, one ought to strive and wrestle and be physically close. It makes one sane.
- Do you think so? - Yes, I do.
Do you?
Yes.
We are mentally and spiritually close. We should be physically. It's more complete.
You know how the old German knights used to swear blood brotherhood?
Yes. Make wounds in their arms.
And run blood into each other's cuts.
Yes.
And swear to be true to each other, of one blood, all their lives.
That's what we ought to do.
Well, no wounds. That's obsolete.
But we ought to swear to love each other, you and I.
Implicitly. Perfectly.
Finally. Without any possibility of ever going back on it.
Shall we swear to each other one day?
We'll wait till I understand it better.
At any rate, one feels freer and more open now.
That's what we want.
Certainly.
In a way, that's what I want with Ursula.
Single, clear, yet balanced.
But they're all the same, women.
This lust for passion. This greed for self-importance in love.
I should think Gudrun is even worse.
- Have you seen her lately? - She's coming over next week.
Hermione suggested she teach Winifred to draw.
The child hasn't been the same since her sister...
Since the drowning.
- Are you fond of Ursula? - I think I love her.
I suppose the next steps are engagement and marriage.
You know I always believe in love. In true love.
But where do you find it nowadays?
I don't know.
Life has all kinds of things.
There isn't only one road.
I don't care how it is with me as long as I...
As long as I feel... that I've lived.
I don't care how it is as long as I feel that.
- Fulfilled. - Yes, I suppose it could be fulfilled.
I don't use the same words as you.
Well, it's the same.
- Would you like a bath? - Mm.
Come on, Rip. Get them.
Go for them!
Drive them away!
Rip! Ranger, heel! Heel, boy!
Come here, Rip! Come on, boy!
Are you all right? Rip!
Who the hell let these dogs in the drive? Take them back.
Here! Come here, boy, heel!
Take him back to the kennel.
Have you taken leave of your senses?
How many times must I tell you? No one is ever turned away from my door.
Oh, yes, I know, I know. Love thy neighbour.
And you love your neighbour more than your own family.
Why don't you turn me and the children out and keep open house for them?
If it wasn't for them, you wouldn't have this house.
If they're in trouble it's my duty to help them.
You'd think it your duty to invite all the rats in the world to gnaw at your bones.
Let's go inside, Mother.
Mr Crich can't see you.
You think you can come here whenever you like.
Go away. There's nothing for you here.
- Give him to me. - Thank you.
Gerald says, if you like it, we could have it all to ourselves as a studio.
Oh...
He'd mend the windows and have it decorated.
Gerald says it all depends on you. So do you like it?
- It's remarkable. - Oh, good!
Gerald! Gerald!
Come on, let's go and see Gerald.
Come on, Bismarck.
Winifred seems to have taken to you.
- Will you come again? - I feel very drawn to her.
Yes, I can come again.
Oh, Gerald, isn't it wonderful? We're going to draw Bismarck.
Isn't he beautiful? Isn't he strong?
Let its mother stroke its fur then, darling, because it's so mysterious.
Look what I bought.
How lovely.
How perfectly lovely.
- Why did you give them to me? - I wanted to.
Am I called on to find reasons?
Opals are unlucky, aren't they?
I prefer unlucky things. Luck is vulgar. Who wants what luck would bring? I don't.
They can be made a little bigger.
Yes.
I'm glad you bought them.
Won't it be lovely going home in the dark?
I promised to go to Shortlands tonight to have dinner with Gerald.
- It doesn't matter. You can go tomorrow. - Hermione's there.
She's going away in a couple of days. I suppose I ought to say goodbye to her.
- You don't mind, do you? - I don't mind. Why should I mind?
Well, that's what I ask myself. Why should you mind?
- But you seem to. - I assure you, I don't mind in the least.
If that's where you feel you belong, then that's where you must go.
Oh, you are a fool with your "that's where you belong".
It's finished between Hermione and me. She means much more to you than to me.
I'm not taken in by your word-twisting.
If you still feel you belong to Hermione, then you do. But you don't belong to me.
If you weren't a fool, you'd know one can be decent and wrong.
It was wrong of me to go on all that time with her. It was a deathly process.
But, after all, one can have a little human decency.
But you tear my soul out with jealousy at the mention of her name.
I? Jealous? She means nothing to me, not that.
It's what she stands for that I hate. Her lies and her falseness.
It's death but you want it, you can't help yourself.
Well, then, you go and get it, but don't come to me.
I've got nothing to do with it.
- Oh, you are a fool. - Yes, I am a fool.
And thank God for it!
I'm too big a fool to swallow your cleverness.
You go to your women, your spiritual brides,
or aren't they common and fleshy enough?
No, you're not satisfied. You'd marry for me for your everyday use
and keep your spiritual brides for tripping off into the beyond.
Oh, yes, I know your dirty little game.
You think I am not as spiritual as Hermione.
Well, Hermione is a fishwife! A fishwife!
So you go to her, that's what I say. Go to her.
In her soul, she's as common as dirt.
All the rest is just pretence, but you love it.
Do you think I don't know the foulness of your sex life and hers?
Well, I do. It's that foulness that you want, you liar.
Well, have it. Have it. Have it! You're such a liar!
- There's a bicycle coming. - I don't care.
Afternoon.
Good afternoon.
Maybe it's true. Lies, dirt and all.
But Hermione's spiritual intimacy is no rottener than your jealous intimacy.
I am not jealous. What I say, I say because it's true.
You're a false and foul liar.
- That's what I say and you hear it. - Very good.
The only hopeless thing is a fool.
Yes, right. So you take back your rings and buy yourself a female elsewhere.
I'm sure there will be plenty of women willing to share in your spiritual mess.
See what a flower I've found you?
Pretty.
Did I abuse you?
Wait.
I shall have my own back.
So this is where you've been living all the time?
Oh, what a perfectly lovely, noble place.
So warm and cosy.
We must get out of our responsibilities as quick as we can, drop our jobs like a shot.
We must say... we must write...
"Dear sir, I would be very grateful if you would liberate me as soon as possible."
"From my post as schoolmistress of the Beldover Grammar School,
without, of course, waiting for the usual month's notice."
- Oh, I could be so happy here. - No, we'll wander a bit first.
We'll get married straightaway and we'll wander a bit.
- We'll never go apart. - No.
Because we love each other.
"And the third angel poured out his vials on the river and the fountains of water..."
After Laura's death, Father's world collapsed.
We haven't had much illness in the house, either.
Not until Father.
It's something you don't reckon with until it's there.
Then you realise it was there all the time. It was always there.
The possibility of this...
incurable illness.
This creeping death.
There's nothing left.
Do you understand what I mean?
You seem to be reaching at the void,
then you realise... that you're a void yourself.
You can't go on holding up the roof forever -
sooner or later you've got to let go -
so you don't know what to do.
- You must... If I can help you. - I don't want your help.
Because there's nothing to be done.
I just want to talk to somebody.
Sympathetically.
Ah, Mother. How nice of you to come down. How are you?
You know Miss Brangwen, of course, don't you?
Yes.
Winifred tells me the doctor had something to say about your father.
- What is it? - Just that his pulse is very weak.
It misses altogether on occasions and he might not last the night out.
You're not getting into a state, are you?
You're not letting it make you hysterical?
No, I don't think so, Mother. It's just that somebody has got to see it through.
Oh, have they? Have they? And why should you take it on yourself?
What have you got to do with seeing it through?
Lt'll see itself through. You're not needed.
No, I don't suppose there is much I can do.
It's just how... it affects us, you see?
You like to be affected, don't you?
It's quite a treat for you.
Yes.
Yes, you would have to be important.
You've no need to stop at home. Why don't you go away?
You're as weak as a cat, really. Always were.
A strange lady, my mother.
Yes.
With ideas of her own.
Yes.
You want to go home. I'll see that the car is brought round.
No, I want to walk.
You might just as well drive.
But I would much rather walk.
Would you?
Then I shall come with you.
You do help me so much.
And I can't believe it.
Why? Why can't you believe it?
It's true. It's as true as... as true as we stand here.
Oh, you are so beautiful.
And I must go.
No.
Let me go alone.
How much more water leaked into the pit?
Some more.
We'll have to run off the lake.
- Ursula? - No, it's me.
Gerald.
You're very muddy.
I was walking in the dark.
What do you want from me?
I came because I must. Why do you ask?
I must ask.
There is no answer.
You must go, my love.
- It's getting late. - No, not for a minute.
Yes, you must go. I'm afraid if you stay any longer.
- Goodbye. - Goodbye.
Shall Gudrun and I rush into marriage along with you?
If I were you, I wouldn't marry.
But ask Gudrun, not me. You're not marrying me, are you?
I thought you were dead nuts on marriage.
Well... There are all kinds of marriages.
And there are all kinds of noses. Snub and otherwise.
And do you think that, if I marry, it'll be snub?
What's the alternative?
If you don't know, don't do it.
Marriage seems to me to be repulsive.
The whole world in couples, each in its own little house,
watching its own interests, stewing in its own privacies.
It's the most repulsive thing on earth.
Yes, I quite agree. There's something inferior about it.
- But there again, what's the alternative? - We've got to find one.
I do believe in a permanent union between a man and a woman.
Chopping about is merely an exhaustive process.
But a permanent relationship between a man and a woman isn't the last word.
It certainly isn't.
Quite.
We've got to take down this ideal from its pedestal. We want something broader.
I believe in the additional perfect relationship between man and man.
Additional to marriage.
- I don't see how they can be the same. - Not the same but equally important.
Equally creative, equally sacred, if you like.
I know you believe something like that. Only I can't feel it, you see.
Gudrun might rush into marriage like we have.
Rubbish. Gudrun is a born mistress, just as Gerald is a born lover.
If all women are either wives or mistresses, then Gudrun is a mistress.
And all men are either lovers or husbands.
Why not both?
No, the one excludes the other.
Then I want a lover.
- Oh, no, you don't. - Oh, yes, I do.
- How much is it? - Ten shillings.
We don't want that. We can have my furniture from the house.
- It's so beautiful, so pure. - What?
Oh...
- I'm only going to give you five shillings. - Right.
It almost breaks my heart. My beloved country!
It had something to express, even when it made this chair.
Now we fish amongst rubbish heaps for remnants of the old expression.
There's no production in us any more, just sordid and foul mechanicalness.
Well, I hate your past. I'm sick of it.
Not as sick as I am of the accursed present.
I don't want the past to take its place.
I don't want old things.
The truth is, we don't want things at all.
The thought of a house and furniture of my own is hateful. Madam, it's yours.
I hope you will both be very, very happy together.
- We must live somewhere. - Not somewhere, anywhere.
Not have a definite place. Just you and me and a few others.
Where we needn't wear any clothes and can be ourselves without any bother.
Rupert, whatever did you mean? You, me and a few other people? You've got me.
Well, I always imagined our being happy with a few other people.
Why should we be?
I don't know. One has a hankering after a further fellowship.
Why? Why should you hanker after other people? Why should you need them?
Don't you need them? Or does it just end with us two, then?
Yes. What more do you want?
If people care to come along, well, let them.
But it must happen. You can't do anything about it with your will.
You always seem to think you can force the flowers to come out.
People must love us because they love us.
I know.
But must one go on as if one's alone in the world?
You've got me. Why should you need others?
You must just learn to be alone.
Two teas, please.
Did you know Gerald Crich has suggested we all go away together at Christmas?
Yes. He's spoken to Rupert about it.
Well, don't you think it's amazingly cool?
I rather like him for it.
- And what did Rupert say? Do you know? - He said it would be most awfully jolly.
Well, don't you think it would be?
I think it might be awfully jolly, as you say, but...
Don't you think it was an unpardonable liberty to speak to Rupert like that?
You see? They could have been two men
arranging an outing with some little type they'd picked up.
Oh, no.
No. Nothing like that.
Oh, no.
No, I think the friendship between Rupert and Gerald is really rather beautiful.
It's so simple. They just say anything to each other, like brothers.
There's something I love about Gerald.
He is really much more lovable than I thought him.
Well, he's free, Gudrun.
He really is.
Do you know where he proposes to go?
Mm.
Near Zermatt.
I don't know where exactly.
Oh, it would be rather lovely, don't you think?
- High up in the perfect snow. - Very lovely.
I think Gerald spoke to Rupert about it so it shouldn't seem an outing with a... type.
I know he does take up with that sort.
Does he? How do you know?
I know of a model in Chelsea.
Well, let's hope he had a good time with her.
I must go, Prune. Rupert's waiting.
The minute I set foot on foreign soil, I am transported.
- I am a new creature stepping into life. - It's never quite the same in England.
One's afraid to let go, afraid what will happen... if everyone else lets go.
We're out of it, so let's all let go together.
Look out!
There's one for you.
- How romantic it all is. - Wollen Sie tanzen, gnädige Frau?
Shall we dance?
- Eins, zwei, drei, vier.
What a fine game you're playing. She's in love with you. Oh, she's in love with you.
Right, I'll get you next time.
Missed!
Do you love me?
Far too much.
I couldn't bear this cold, eternal place without you.
- Do you hate it, then? - Mm.
If you weren't here, it would kill the very quick of my life.
It's good that we're warm and together.
- I want to take it. - Well, have it, then.
- I can't believe it. - Wait, wait. My feet are on.
Put your feet up. Right!
I'd better put my goggles on. I'm not on! I am now.
We're going to come off. We're going to come off.
Oh! Oh!
- It wasn't too much for you? - No.
It was the most complete moment of my life.
- See you down there. - We're going to have another go. Bye!
Hey!
Hey, Prune. Isn't it interesting?
Herr Loerke is doing a great frieze for a factory in Cologne.
Was it for the outside? The outside, in the street.
So you are an artist. I knew it.
I think that the machinery. The...
The acts of labour are beautiful, extremely beautiful.
The factory of today must be the Parthenon.
Oh, you believe art should serve industry?
Ah! Art should interpret industry, ich glaube.
- As art once interpreted religion. - Gudrun is an artist as well, you know.
Oh?
- What do you do? - I'm a sculptress.
- And what do you sculpt? - Animals, birds.
- Knick-knacks for the rich. - Oh!
Travailler. Lavorato, che lavoro, che lavoro.
Huh?
You're not an artist. You've never worked as the world works.
Yes, I have, and I do.
Have you known what it was to lie in bed because you had nothing to eat
in a room with three other families and a toilet in the middle,
a big pan with a plank on it?
And your father making love - love! - with a street whore in the corner.
Do you understand?
- How old are you? - 26.
Und lhr Herr Gemahl? Wie alt ist er?
Your husband.
31.
Come along. I will show you something interesting.
Oh... Well...
Allez, allez.
I've come to show you something.
This is... No, this.
My factory. It's colossal!
Oh...
Something special.
Look.
But it's beautiful.
- Why did you make the horse so stiff? - Stiff?
Yes.
Stiff.
Look at that stock, stupid, brutal thing.
A horse is a very sensitive creature.
Quite delicate, really. But sensitive.
Well, it's not a picture of a friendly horse,
to which you give a lump of sugar, gnädige Frau.
It's part of a work of art.
It has no relation with anything that's outside the work of art.
- But it's still a picture of a horse. - Certainly. It's not a picture of a cow.
Where is she now, the model?
She was a nuisance. Not for a minute would she keep still.
Not until I'd slapped her hard and make her cry. Then she'd sit for five minutes.
- Did you really slap her? - Yes, I did.
Harder than I have ever beat anything in my life.
I had to, for the sake of my art.
Well, love has no place in your world of art.
L'amour, I'amore, die Liebe. I detest it in every language.
What does this matter, if I wear this hat or another?
So, love. It's only for convenience.
I would give everything, everything, all you love,
for a little companionship in intelligence.
Rupert.
I want to go away.
- Do you? - Mm. Don't you?
- I hadn't thought about it. - Hm?
I hadn't thought about it.
Oh, I hate the snow!
The unnatural light it throws on everybody.
Oh, the ghastly glamour of it all.
And the unnatural feelings it makes everybody have.
We can go away if you like. We can go away tomorrow.
We can go to Verona and find Romeo and Juliet and sit in the amphitheatre.
Oh, yes! Yes, I'd love to be Romeo and Juliet.
A fearfully cold wind blows through Verona from out of the Alps.
Are you glad you're going?
No, I don't want to be laughed at. Do you love me?
Yes! Yes!
- Do you love me? - Yes!
- Why is your mouth so hard? - Why is yours frozen solid?
Why do you grip your lips?
Never you mind.
It's my way.
Do you know what it is to suffer when you're with a woman?
It tears you like a silk.
And each bit and stroke burns hot.
Of course, I wouldn't not have had it. It was a complete experience.
She's a wonderful woman but... I hate her somewhere.
- It's curious. - You've had your experience now.
- Why work on an old wound? - Because there's nothing else.
I've loved you as well as Gudrun. Don't forget.
Have you?
Or do you think you have?
- Ursula. - Bye, Gerald.
Be good.
- Goodbye, Gerald. - Rupert.
- Goodbye, Gudrun. - Rupert.
Bye!
See you soon!
Why are you sitting in the dark?
Look at that lovely star up there. Do you know its name?
No.
- It's very fine. - Isn't it beautiful?
Do you see how it darts different coloured fires?
- It's superb. - Mm.
- Do you regret their leaving? - No, not at all.
How much do you love me?
- How much do you think I love you? - I don't know.
- But what's your opinion? - Very little indeed.
- Why don't I love you? - Well, I don't know why you don't.
I've been good to you.
When you first came to me in that fearful state, I had to take pity on you.
It was never love.
Why do you keep repeating it, that there was never any love?
You don't think you love, do you?
No.
You don't think you can love me, do you?
I don't know what you mean by the word "love".
Oh, yes, you do.
You know very well that you have never loved me.
Well, have you, do you think?
No.
And you never will love me, will you?
Why do you torture me?
I don't want to torture you.
Just say you love me. Say you'll love me forever.
Won't you say it? Won't you say you'll love me always?
Even if you don't mean it, but say it, Gerald, do.
I will love you always.
Fancy you're actually having said it.
Try to love me a little more and want me a little less.
- You mean you don't want me? - You're so insistent.
And you have so little grace, so little finesse.
You are crude. You break me and waste me.
And it is horrible to me.
- Horrible to you? - Oh, yes.
Don't you think I might have Ursula's room now to myself?
You do... as you wish.
- You go where you wish. - Oh, I will.
But so can you.
You can go whenever you like.
Without notice, even.
Gerald...
Oh, my God, Gerald! Shall I die?
Sehen Sie Herr Loerke? Da sitzt die englische Frau.
Ja, ich seh schon.
Hm.
Your form is very good, Herr Crich.
A man should have something of massiveness in their stupid form.
You don't do sports, Herr Loerke?
Not sports, no. Only games.
And what sort of games might they be?
- Only ones which I enjoy. - But what sort of games?
Er... secret games.
Initiation games.
Full of esoteric understanding and fearful, sensual secrets.
Rubbish.
Contemptible rubbish.
Why are the English so inept in argument?
You know, there often is another way.
- Sehen Sie, gnädige Frau... - Sagen Sie nicht immer gnädige Frau.
- What should I say then? - Sagen Sie nur nicht das.
- Soll ich Fräulein sagen? - Well, I'm not married.
Truth is best.
Cleopatra must have been an artist.
She reaped the essential from a man.
She harvested the ultimate sensation and then... she threw away the husk.
Well, I am not going to play your Antony.
Oh.
The point of a lover is to reach a complete understanding of sensual knowledge.
And today I will be Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky.
Hurray!
A great Russian composer.
And you are my bride of six hours.
- We are on our honeymoon. - Ah!
We are on our honeymoon
on the Trans... Siberian... Express...
We are alone.
In our sleeping compartment.
I'm a homosexual.
I am a homosexual composer!
Catch.
Who is married!
To protect his family name...
from gossip...
and scandal.
And you...
You are a scheming, thieving nymphomaniac...
...who has married for fame and fortune.
Between two particular people, the range of pure sensational experience is limited.
One can only extend, draw out, and electrify.
One must not repeat.
One must find only new ways.
The train is going into a tunnel.
- Why are you fascinated by that rat? - I don't choose to be discussed by you.
My God, what a mercy I'm not married to you.
It doesn't matter whether you choose to discuss it.
It doesn't alter the fact that you fall down and kiss that insect's feet.
You do it. I'm not going to prevent you. You kiss his feet.
What I want to know is what it is about him that fascinates you.
- What is it? - Do you? Do you want to know what it is?
It is that he has some understanding. He is not stupid. That's why.
And would you like to crawl for the understanding of a rat?
The understanding of a rat
is more interesting than the understanding of a fool.
- A fool? - A fool, a conceited fool.
A Dummkopf.
Wouldn't I rather be the fool than explore those sewers with a rat?
What have you to offer as an alternative?
An eternity of domesticity at Shortlands?
When I think of you, your world and your coal mine, it makes my heart sick.
You're so limited, you're a dead end. You cannot love.
And you?
I could never love you.
It may be over between us.
But it's not finished.
- Wait, wait, I have something for you. - Oh, Loerke, what an inspiration.
What a comble de joie indeed. What is it, schnapps?
- Heidelbeere. - No.
It is made from bilberries. It is distilled from snow.
It's exactly like bilberries under the snow.
Listen, you are going away tomorrow?
- Yes. - Wohin?
- I don't know. - One never does.
Where will you take a ticket to?
- Oh, I have to take a ticket? - Ja.
Ah, but one does not have to go where the ticket says.
Then take a ticket to London. One should never go there.
- Right! - You must not go back to teaching.
You must not go back to teaching.
Leave that to the swine who can do nothing else.
You're an extraordinary woman.
Eine... eine seltsame Frau.
Why should you follow the ordinary course? Huh?
You won't tell me where you will go?
Really and truly, I don't know.
It depends which way the wind blows.
- It blows through Germany. - Perhaps.
Come with me to Dresden.
I live alone there. I have a big studio. I can give you work.
I believe in you.
- Work? - Maria...
You came like a ghost.
Heidelbeere?
You!
I didn't want it anyway.
I'm tired. I want to sleep.
- Was it vile being dragged back? - I didn't even think of it.
I felt beastly fetching you here.
I simply couldn't see people.
- That was too much. - Yes.
I think I'll go to Dresden.
For a while.
I did not want it to be like this.
I didn't want it to be like this.
He should have loved me.
I offered him.
Did you need Gerald?
Yes.
Aren't I enough for you?
No.
You are enough for me as far as a woman is concerned.
You are all women to me.
But I wanted a man friend as eternal.
As you and I are eternal.
I don't believe it.
It's an obstinacy, a theory.
A perversity.
You can't have two kinds of love.
Why should you?
It seems as if I can't. Yet I wanted it.
You can't have it because it's impossible.
I don't believe that.
Re Adaptation By: Ali Nabawy Alynabawy@Hotmail.Com