And I love you.
Randolph?
Yes?
What are you doing?
Nothing.
Where are you going?
Nowhere.
Indians?
Don't you do anything now till I get down.
All right.
Oh, sure. 28
Can I have a lump of sugar?
Can I have a lump of sugar, I said.
Oh.
A lump of sugar.
Certainly.
You're not Swiss?
Here, I'll show you a trick.
Are you German or something?
I, uh, put the lump of sugar
on the top of my hand, all right?
Now, you put your hand underneath here,
and, uh, wait now.
I'm going to send the sugar right through my hand.
Ready? I guess you're some kind
of an Englishman or something.
Shh-shh-shh. Here we go now.
You could be Polish. Are you Polish?
I'm American.
Hmm... well, that makes two of us.
Really? You don't sound like an American.
Well, that's because I live in Europe, I guess.
You live in Europe? Why? What happened?
Well, I chose to. I like it.
You like it? Europe?
Well, you're not going to do your teeth any good.
I haven't got any teeth. They've all come out.
Are you a dental surgeon, by any chance?
No, I'm not.
See.
Oh, my word.
I've only got seven teeth left.
Mother counted them last night,
and one came out right after.
She said she'd slap me if any more came out.
I can't help it. It's old Europe.
The climate here makes them come out.
They didn't come out in America.
These hotels... do you like hotels?
Well, I... Are you staying here?
Uh, I've just come to see my aunt, uh...
You're not going to help your teeth.
Well, I've got to get me some candy, then.
I can't get any candy here... any American candy.
That's the only kind worth eating.
Do you like her?
Uh, um, like whom?
I was taking bets you were German, you know that?
Your aunt.
Well, she's my aunt-- yes, I like her.
I bet you don't.
Randolph, you try that and I'll fix you.
How do you like that?
She's absolutely right.
How do you come to know her?
I don't know her.
Oh.
She's my sister.
Why, Randolph, what are you doing?
I'm going up the Alps. This way.
That's the way you come down.
He's an American.
Well, you'd better be quiet.
Your brother and I have made acquaintance.
I'd like to know where you got that pole.
I bought it. You don't mean to say
you're going to take it to Italy?
Yes, I'm going to take it to Italy.
Well, better leave it somewhere.
Are you going to Italy?
Yes, sir.
And, uh, are you thinking of the Campeau?
I don't know. I suppose it's some mountain.
Randolph, what mountain are we thinking of?
Thinking of? Why, going over.
Going to where? Why, right down to Italy.
I don't know. I don't want to go to Italy.
I want to go to America.
Oh, Italy's a beautiful place.
Can you get candy there?
I hope not. I guess you've had enough candy.
I haven't! And Mother thinks so, too.
I haven't had any for ever so long,
not for a hundred weeks!
It's a beautiful view, isn't it?
Hmm...
You can just barely see the Dents du Midi over there.
Why don't you show her your trick?
Uh, it's not a very good one, I'm afraid.
Uh, forgive me, but, uh, would you care to sit down?
Oh, I like just hanging around.
You believe he's an American?
Are you a real American?
Yes.
I wouldn't have taken you for one.
You seem more like a German,
especially when you speak.
That's what I said.
Oh, well, I've met Germans
who speak like Americans,
but, so far, not the other way around.
Uh, excuse me.
I'm from New York State, if you know where that is.
Where I'd like to be right now.
Now, listen, my boy,
you haven't even told me your name yet.
Randolph C. Miller. I'll tell you hers, too.
You'd better wait till you're asked.
Well, I'd like very much to know your name.
Her name's Daisy Miller,
but that ain't her real name, though.
It ain't the name on her cards.
Too bad you haven't got one of my cards.
Her real name's Annie P. Miller. Can I climb that tree?
Ask him his now. My father's name is Ezra B. Miller,
but my father ain't in Europe.
Oh, he's not? Nope. My father's in a better place.
Oh, I'm sorry.
My father's in Schenectady. He's got a big business.
My father's very rich. Well...
I'm going to practice for the Alps and climb that tree.
He doesn't like Europe. Uh, and you?
He doesn't like me, either. No, I meant, uh...
I love it, but he wants to go right home.
He hasn't got any boys here.
Well, there's one, but he always goes around with a teacher.
They won't let him play.
And your brother has no teacher?
Mother thought of getting him one.
There was a lady told her about a very good teacher, an American lady.
Perhaps you know her-- Mrs. Saunders?
No... I think she came from Boston.
She told her about this teacher.
We thought of getting her to travel around with us,
but Randolph said he didn't want a teacher traveling around with us.
He said he wouldn't have lessons when we're in the cars,
and we are in the cars about half the time.
Oh, well, then, how could he...
There was an English lady we met in the cars.
I think her name was Miss Featherstone-- perhaps you know her?
She wanted to know why I didn't give Randolph lessons,
give him "instruction," she called it.
I guess he could give me more instruction
than I could give him. He's very smart.
Ye-Yes, he seems to be.
Mother's going to find a teacher for him
as soon as we get to Italy.
Can you find people in Italy to do that kind of thing?
Oh, I think you can find people in Italy...
Or else she's going to find some school.
...to do almost any kind of thing.
He's only ten. He's going to college.
Have you been? Yes, in Geneva.
Oh.
You know that English lady in the cars, Miss Featherstone,
asked me if we didn't all live in hotels in America.
I told her I'd never been in so many hotels in my life
as I'd been in since I came to Europe.
I declare, it's nothing but hotels.
I've never seen so many!
Well, there are quite a number of them.
Of course, they're very good, once you get used to their ways.
Mind you, I think Europe is perfectly sweet.
Well... I'm not disappointed, not a bit.
Maybe it's because I'd heard so much about it before.
I have ever so many intimate friends
who've been ever so many times, and then, of course,
I've so many dresses and things from Paris.
Whenever I put on a Paris dress,
I feel as if I were in Europe.
Are you waiting for someone?
Uh, my aunt, uh, Mrs. Costello.
I'm taking her for a cure at the baths.
They always made me wish I was in Europe-- the dresses.
Though I'm sure they send all the pretty ones to America.
Some of the most awful things here.
What does she suffer from?
Uh, pardon? Your aunt.
Oh, she keeps an open mind--
anything her doctor suggests.
The only thing I don't like is the society.
There isn't any, or if there is,
I don't know where it keeps itself, do you?
Well, I think you have...
Oh, I suppose there's some society somewhere,
but I haven't seen anything of it.
Are you going to take the cure, too?
I hope I don't need it.
Well...
I'm very fond of society.
I've always had plenty of it.
I don't mean only in Schenectady, but in New York.
I go to New York every winter,
and there's lots of society there.
Last winter, I had 17 dinners given me--
three of them by gentlemen.
I've more friends in New York than Schenectady--
more gentlemen friends...
and more young lady friends, too.
I've always had a great deal of gentlemen society.
I see.
Have you been to that old castle around the bend?
Uh, Chillon?
I beg your pardon?
It's called the Chateau de Chillon.
Mm-hmm. Have you ever been there?
Oh, yes, more than once. And you?
No, we haven't been there, and I want to go dreadfully.
Of course, I mean to go.
I just wouldn't leave without seeing that old castle.
You can drive, you know,
or take the little steamer, if you like.
That's what Eugenio says-- our courier.
We have a courier traveling personally with us,
making all the arrangements-- all that sort of thing.
His name is Eugenio.
He's the most fastidious man I ever saw,
but he's a splendid courier.
We were going to that old castle last week,
but Mother gave out.
Good cooking always gives her dyspepsia.
Maybe you should take her to the baths with your aunt.
Well, I could ask my aunt...
Randolph wouldn't go either.
He says it's much too old to be interesting.
He wants to stay here.
Mother's afraid to leave him alone,
and Eugenio won't stay with him,
so we haven't been to many places,
but it will be too bad if we don't go up there.
Well, can't you find someone
to stay with Randolph for an afternoon?
I wish you'd stay with him.
Oh, I'd much rather go to Chillon.
With me?
And with your mother, of course.
Oh, I don't think Mother would go... for you.
She's not much bent on going anyway.
She doesn't like to ride around in the afternoons.
Maybe she'll stay here with Randolph,
which means maybe Eugenio will stay, too,
and then we can go to the castle.
We-- you and I?
Oh, Eugenio.
This is Eugenio.
I knew he'd be looking for me any minute.
I have the honor to inform mademoiselle
it is time to go into the village.
We're going to buy a clock.
Eugenio's found one at a really amazing price.
I'm sure.
Mademoiselle has seen her brother?
He's climbing the Alps. Excuse me?
Oh, he doesn't want to come.
See here, Eugenio, I'm going to that old castle anyway.
To Chillon?
Mademoiselle has made arrangements?
You won't back out?
I won't be happy till we go.
You're staying at this hotel,
and you're really American?
I should have the honor to introduce you to my aunt.
She'll tell you all about me.
Oh, well, maybe we'll go someday.
Oh, Randolph, you scared Eugenio...
Mademoiselle, the carriage is waiting.
Come on, Randolph, we're going into town.
I don't want to go into town.
Monsieur Randolph could stay in his room.
They're horribly common, my dear Frederick.
They're the sort of Americans
one does one's duty by just ignoring.
Milk?
Please.
So, you just, uh, ignore them?
Well, I can't not.
I wouldn't if I hadn't to, but I have to.
Sugar?
Oh, no thank you.
The little girl's very pretty.
Of course, she's very pretty,
but she's of the last crudity.
Well, I see what you mean, of course.
She has that charming look, they all have--
can't think where they pick it up--
and she dresses to perfection.
Yes, I...
No, you don't know how well she dresses.
Can't think where they get their taste.
Oh, but, dear Aunt, after all,
she's not a Comanche Indian.
Frederick... she's a young lady,
who has an intimacy with her mama's courier.
Does she? An intimacy?
Well, there's no other name for it,
and the skinny little mother is just as bad.
They treat the courier as a familiar friend,
as a gentleman and a scholar.
Shouldn't wonder if he dines with them.
Very likely they've never seen a man with such good manners,
such fine clothes, so like a gentleman.
Probably corresponds to the young ladies...
"Dear Viscount..."
Sits with them in the garden of an evening.
I think he smokes in their faces.
Well, I'm not a courier,
and I didn't smoke in her face,
and yet she was very charming to me.
You might have mentioned at first
that you had made her valuable acquaintance.
We simply met in the garden...
By appointment?
and I talked to her.
No? Pray, what did you say?
I said I should take the liberty
of introducing her to my admirable aunt.
Your admirable aunt is a thousand times obliged.
Well, it was only to guarantee my respectability.
And pray who is to guarantee hers?
Oh, now, that's cruel. She's a very innocent girl.
You don't say that as if you believed it.
Well, how does one say it as if one believed it?
If you believed it, you wouldn't need to say it.
Oh, she's completely uneducated, yes,
but I think she's wonderfully pretty and very nice
and to prove it, I'm going to take her one day to Chillon.
You two are going off there together?
Well, I should think that proved just the contrary.
How long had you known her,
may I ask, when this interesting project was formed?
You've only been in Vevey 24 hours.
Well, I had known her half an hour.
Well, then she's just as I supposed.
And what do you suppose?
Why, that she's a horror.
Oh, come...
Now, won't you at the least
meet her and see for yourself?
Is it literally true
that she's going alone with you to that castle?
I have no doubt she fully intends to.
Then I'm afraid I must decline
the honor of her acquaintance.
I'm an old woman, but I'm not too old,
thank heaven, to be honestly shocked.
But don't they all do these things--
the, uh, little girls in New York?
I'd sure like to see my granddaughters do them...
Well, I've heard--
or anyone else that's proper.
You mean, you really think, then...?
You really think that...?
Think what, sir?
Well, that she's the sort of girl
who expects a man sooner or later to...
uh, well, we'll call it carry her off?
Frederick, what I really think
is that you had better not meddle
with little American girls who are--
as you mildly put it-- uneducated.
You've lived too long out of the country.
You'll be sure to make some great mistake.
You're too innocent.
My dear aunt, I'm not too innocent.
Too guilty, then.
Oh, there you are.
I've been wondering where you were.
Well, I've just finished dinner.
With your aunt? Yes.
I declare, this is the stupidest evening I've ever had.
Have you been all alone?
I've been walking around with Mother.
But she gets tired walking around.
She's gone to bed?
No, she doesn't like to go to bed.
She doesn't sleep hardly at all-- not three hours.
She says she doesn't know how she lives. She's dreadfully nervous.
I guess she sleeps more than she thinks.
She's gone somewhere to find Randolph,
to try to get him to go to bed.
He doesn't like to go to bed.
Well, let's hope she persuades him.
Well, she'll talk to him all she can,
but he doesn't like her to talk to him.
I think she's going to try to get Eugenio to talk to him,
but Randolph ain't afraid of Eugenio.
He's a splendid courier,
but he can't seem to make an impression on Randolph.
I don't think he'll go to bed before 11:00.
How's your aunt feeling?
Uh, not very well, I'm afraid.
The chambermaid told me all about her.
She said she's very quiet and very proper,
and she wears white puffs,
and she never speaks to anyone,
and she always dines alone,
and every two days she has a headache.
Your chambermaid's very observant.
I think it's a lovely description, headache and all.
I want to know her ever so much.
I know just what your aunt would be.
I know I'd like her. She'd be very exclusive.
Yes, she is that. I like a lady to be exclusive.
I'm dying to be exclusive myself,
though I guess we are exclusive, Mother and I.
We don't speak to anyone, or they don't speak to us.
I suppose it's about the same thing.
Anyhow, I'll be ever so glad to meet your aunt.
Yes, she'd be most happy, too,
but I'm afraid those tiresome headaches...
Well, I suppose she doesn't have a headache every day...
Well, she tells me she does.
She doesn't want to know me. Why didn't you say so?
You needn't be afraid. I'm not afraid.
Oh, but-but you see, she doesn't know anyone.
She goes through life like that.
It's-it's her wretched health.
You needn't be afraid.
Why should she want to know me?
Gracious... she is exclusive.
Well, to tell you the truth, I think she's...
Well, here comes Mother.
Bet she didn't get Randolph to go to bed.
Are you sure that's your mother?
Well, I guess I know my own mother.
She's got my shawl on, too.
She's always wearing my things.
Well, I'm afraid she doesn't see you,
or, uh, maybe she feels guilty about your shawl.
Oh, it's a ratty old thing.
I told her she could wear it
if she didn't mind what she looked like.
She won't come here because she sees you.
Oh, well, then, I'd better leave. Oh, no, come on.
Well, I'm afraid she doesn't approve of my walking with you.
It's not for me-- it's for you.
I mean, it's for her. Well, I don't know who it's for.
But Mother doesn't like any of my gentlemen friends.
She's just downright timid.
Always makes a fuss if I introduce a gentleman,
but I do introduce them, almost always.
If I didn't introduce my gentlemen friends to Mother,
I wouldn't think I was natural.
Well, then, you'd better know my name.
It's Winterbourne-- Frederick Forsythe Winterbourne.
Oh, my. I can't say all that.
Mother, Mr. Frederick Forsythe Winterbourne.
What are you doing poking around here?
Well, I don't know.
I don't know why you like to wear this old shawl.
Well, I do.
Did you ever get Randolph to go to bed?
No, I couldn't induce him. He wants to talk to the waiter.
He likes to talk to that waiter.
I was just telling Mr. Winterbourne...
Oh, yes, I've had the pleasure of meeting your son...
Well, I don't see how he lives.
Anyhow, it isn't as bad as it was at Dover.
Oh, and what happened at Dover?
He wouldn't go to bed at all.
Sat up all night in the lobby.
He wasn't in bed at 12:00. Just wouldn't budge.
Well, it was half past 12:00 when I gave up.
Well, doesn't he sleep much during the day?
Not very much. I wish he would.
He should make it up somehow.
It seems he just can't.
I think he's real tiresome.
Well, Daisy Miller, I wouldn't think you'd want
to talk against your own brother.
Well, he is tiresome, Mother.
Well, he's only ten.
He wouldn't even go up to that castle.
Luckily, I'm going with Mr. Winterbourne.
Uh, yes, your daughter has kindly allowed me
the honor of being her guide.
I suppose you'll go in the cars.
Yes, or on the boat.
Well, of course, I don't know.
I've never been up to that castle.
Oh, you ought to go.
Well, we've been thinking ever so much about going,
but it seems like we never could.
Oh, it'd be a pity... Of course Daisy, she wants to go around everywhere.
Yes, I found that out... But there's a lady here-- I don't know her name--
she says she doesn't think we want to go to see castles here.
Well, I don't see why... She thinks we'd want to wait till we go to Italy.
I think there's so many there. Yes...
Of course, we only want to see the principal ones. Of course.
We saw several in England.
Oh, yes, there are beautiful ones there,
but, uh, Chillon really is well worth seeing.
Well, of course, if Daisy feels up to it,
it seems there just isn't anything she wouldn't undertake.
Uh, you're sure you won't join us?
I guess you'd better go alone.
Mr. Winterbourne?
Yes?
Don't you want to take me out in the boat?
Now? Why, of course.
Well, Annie Miller.
Oh, do let her go.
I wouldn't think she'd want to.
No?
I would think she'd rather go inside.
I'm sure Mr. Winterbourne wants to take me.
He's so awfully devoted.
Well, I'll row you over to Chillon under the stars.
I don't believe it.
You haven't spoken to me for half an hour.
I've been having a very pleasant conversation with your mother.
Oh, pshaw... I want you to take me out in a boat.
There are half a dozen boats moored at that landing,
if you'll do me the honor.
I do like a gentleman to be formal.
It's a formal offer, I assure you.
I was determined to make you say something.
Well, you see, it's not very difficult,
but I'm afraid you're only teasing me.
I don't think so, sir.
Well, in that case, let me give you a row.
Let me give you a row--
Isn't it lovely the way he says that?
It would be even lovelier to do it.
It would be, it really would.
It would indeed. Lovely. I can't wait.
After all, why wait? Why wait for anything?
I think you should find out what time it is.
It's 11:00, Madame.
Eugenio, I'm going on a boat
with Mr. Winterbourne.
At this hour, mademoiselle?
I'm going with Mr. Winterbourne. I'm going this very minute.
Tell her she can't go, Eugenio.
I think you'd better not go out in a boat, mademoiselle.
I suppose you don't think it's proper.
My, Eugenio doesn't think anything's proper.
Well, nevertheless, I'm at your service.
Does mademoiselle propose to go alone?
Oh, no, no-- with this gentleman.
I meant alone with the gentleman.
As mademoiselle pleases.
Oh, I hoped you'd make a fuss.
I don't care to go now.
Well, then, I'll make a fuss.
That's all I want-- a little fuss.
Monsieur Randolph has retired for the night.
Oh, Daisy, then we can go in now.
Good night.
I hope you're disappointed, or disgusted, or something.
Well, I'm puzzled, if you want to know.
Well, I hope it won't keep you awake.
This is so beautiful...
Bang.
What are you doing up there?
Nothing.
Hmm... been there long?
Long enough.
Want to come down? Nope.
Well, good night, then.
Good night.
Bang.
Come on, we're going to go!
We're going to make it, we're going to make it!
Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo! Come on!
Well, take my arm at least. No!
We made it!
Barely.
I told you we would.
A mass of towers on a block of boulders--
that's what Hugo called it.
Who did?
Victor Hugo.
Oh... I think this is ever so much nicer
than taking the carriage, don't you? Mm-hmm.
I have a passion for steamboats anyway.
There's always such a lovely breeze on the water,
and there are lots of people.
What on earth are you so solemn about?
Solemn-- am I?
You look as if you were taking me to a funeral.
Well, I thought I was grinning from ear to ear.
If that's a grin, your ears are very close together.
Well, should I dance a hornpipe on the deck?
Oh, I wish you would,
and I'll carry your hat around.
It'll pay our expenses.
I was never better pleased in my life.
I like to make you say those things.
You're funny.
Am I?
Mm-hmm. 629
Come on, let's be the first ones off.
Yes, we are. Yes, American.
So, first, let's...
And it was also rebuilt
in the 11th through 13th cycles.
Centuries. Cycles.
Centuries.
Yeah, cycles.
What's up here?
Uh, excuse me. Sir...
This way.
I'm sure you know just as much as he does.
Well, the point he was trying to make
was that you must distinguish the various periods.
You see, the castle wasn't all constructed at the same time.
I heard it was built between the ninth and the thirteenth cycle.
Uh, centuries. Yeah, cycles.
A lot of people were imprisoned in this castle.
I suppose Bonivard was the most famous.
Was he here long?
Mm, four years, I think.
I'll show you where.
Is that how long you've been in Europe?
Oh, longer than that.
How long?
Well, I went to school in Geneva as a boy,
then to college there.
Oh, that long.
Oh.
Careful. What an awful hole.
It's called an oubliette.
That's French. That's right.
Comes from the word "oublier," which means "to forget."
They used to put a man down there and... throw away the key.
Do you have any brothers or sisters?
No, I don't.
Oubliette.
Oh, look at that beautiful tower up there.
Mm-hmm. Now, watch your head.
Oh, thank you.
What are these holes for all along here?
Actually, I've never...
Of course, the main thing to remember
is that the castle completely dominated
the pass through the Alps.
Oh.
Why don't you like America?
Who said I didn't?
Just an impression you give.
Well, I like America very much.
I think "oubliette" sounds funny, don't you?
What? Oh, uh, I don't know.
Look out here.
Oh, no, no, no, be careful, be careful.
Oh! Be careful.
Oh, it's all right, come on. The wood is very old.
It's very rotted, you see.
As it gets older, it's very...
Yes, it's certainly very rotted.
Why are you rushing?
You're not going to see anything.
I don't know why I'm rushing.
What's through here?
Oh, look. What?
Come on, maybe we'll find another oubliette.
Now, watch your head, there.
It's beautiful over here.
Look.
I wonder what's through there.
Wait for me, and then we'll see.
Come on.
I can't wait for you every time. Come on.
Miss Miller.
Miss Miller, where are you?
I'm here.
Oh.
Don't you stray from me anymore.
You're liable to fall.
Into an oubliette. I hope you won't forget me.
Oh, dear.
Now, this is where Bonivard was chained
to that fifth pillar right there.
My goodness.
Lord Byron carved his name on it.
He wrote that poem about him, of course,
The Prisoner of Chillon.
What did he do? Byron?
No, Bonivard.
Oh, it was one of those religious things
during the Reformation. Oh, dear.
You see, he wanted Geneva to be free from the Duke of Savoy
who lured him into an ambush,
brought him here, and chained him up.
Probably he'd still be here
if the Burmese hadn't stormed the castle four years later
and set him free.
"There are seven pillars of Gothic mold
"in Chillon's dungeons deep and old.
"There are seven columns massy and gray,
"dim with the dull, imprisoned ray
"a sunbeam which hath lost its...
way."
Well, I hope you know enough.
I never saw a man that knew so much.
You're teasing me again.
No, I think it's lovely.
I wish you traveled around with us,
and then maybe we might learn something about something.
Well, I wish that I could.
Don't you want to come and teach Randolph?
I guess he'd improve with a gentleman teacher.
Oh, nothing could please me more,
but I do, unfortunately, have other occupations.
You see, there's where Byron... Other occupations?
I don't believe a speck of it.
What do you mean? You're not in business.
Yes, that's true, but I do have some engagements.
In fact, I shall have to be back in Geneva
in just a day or so.
Oh, pshaw, I don't believe it.
I'm cold now. What's through here?
Oh, wait for me.
Oh, now there's something interesting.
Do you see the design of this fireplace here?
This is from the... Look here!
You don't mean to say you're really going back to Geneva?
Well, yes, I'm afraid so.
In fact, I have to be there tomorrow.
Well, Mr. Winterbourne, I think you're horrible.
Well... don't say a thing like that just at the last.
The last? I call it the end.
I have a good mind to leave here
and walk straight back to the hotel alone. No, please, wait.
There's so many other things to see.
I think you're horrible. I think you're horrid!
Who is she? What?
This mysterious charmer who's waiting for you in Geneva.
Oh, you're completely mistaken, I promise you.
"You're completely mistaken, I promise you."
But you are. Doesn't she ever give you
more than two days off at a time?
Oh, don't be ridiculous. I have studies to complete.
I can imagine.
Doesn't she even give you a summer vacation?
Everybody gets that. Please stop teasing.
I suppose if you stay an extra day,
she'll come right after you in the boat.
I do wish you'd wait until Friday
so I can go down to the landing and see her arrive.
Oh, please stop. We were having such a good time.
Miss Miller?
You think I'm teasing?
Aren't you?
All right, I'll stop.
Good. If you'll make a solemn promise
to come to Rome this year while we're there.
Well, that's not a difficult promise to make.
My aunt's going to take an apartment there,
and she's already asked me to come see her.
I don't want you to come for your aunt.
I want you to come just for me.
All right.
At any rate, I will certainly come.
Shall we go back?
I don't want to take the boat now.
Oh, well, there'll be a carriage.
...the little abominations
picked up half a dozen of the regular Roman court.
Close those windows.
Afraid I'm getting another headache.
I wish these Italians
wouldn't put so much garlic in their music.
And? And what?
You were saying? What about?
Uh, the fortune hunters. What?
And Miss Miller.
Oh, yes-- the fortune hunters,
and they're of the inferior sort.
She rackets about with them alone
in a way that makes much talk.
She takes them with her
to such houses as her nose is allowed into.
When she comes to a party--
such a party as she can come to--
she brings with her one particular Italian gentleman
who has a good deal of manner,
with whom she seems very intimate.
As to what happens further between them,
you must apply elsewhere for information.
And where is the mother?
I haven't the least idea.
Oh, I really know nothing about them whatever.
Well...
And how are my three cousins?
Splendid.
Alexander's moved up the block
from the 42nd Street house,
and Antony's still out on Riverside Drive.
And Andrew?
Has he been to see you?
He has not.
The last I heard, he was in Hamburg.
Seems prodigiously busy.
He's in every city that I'm not.
I see.
And will you be coming to Mrs. Walker's tea tomorrow?
Oh, I find it difficult to take tea--
even more difficult to take Mrs. Walker.
I think I might go.
Mm, if you must, Frederick.
I only hope you won't run into
those other very dreadful people.
Well, um, considering what you tell me,
perhaps I won't go to see them right away,
but after what happened at Vevey,
I certainly think I might call on them.
If after what I tell you you still care to,
you're very welcome.
Of course, you're not squeamish.
Men may know everyone and they're welcome to the privilege.
Oh, now, they may be ignorant and uncivilized,
but I'm sure there's nothing bad about them.
Whether or not being hopelessly vulgar is being bad
is a question for the metaphysicans.
They're bad enough to blush for, at any rate.
Who's the portrait for?
And for this short life, that's quite enough.
My sons-- I'm presenting each of them with a copy.
Of course, it's ludicrously expensive.
Unfortunately, I can never bring myself to bargain.
I prefer to be robbed.
Have you heard how a Roman distinguishes
between his pleasures and his sins?
No, not yet.
His pleasures are what he enjoys,
and his sins are what he confesses.
Well, I don't think the Romans
have had a monopoly on that characteristic.
No. How was Geneva this year?
Pleasant.
You've been staying here?
Yes, but the, uh, boys are still at school there.
I wish you'd look them up. They like you.
Oh, I was fairly busy with my studies.
Hmm... did you see Olga?
On occasion.
Pity she never married.
Is it?
But then there are some singular stories about her.
Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.
Oh, well, pardon me. I have to be a hostess.
Now, I'm not through with you.
Well, hello, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson.
I am so pleased that you could come.
Madame Miller.
Oh, I want you to meet the Sinclairs--
they're just lovely people. They're just...
Well, hello. Hello, Miss Miller.
Oh, hello, Mrs. Walker.
I'm ever so happy to see you.
Oh, and I'm so happy to see you, my dear.
Oh, and here's your mother, at last.
I know you.
And I know you.
How are you, Randolph?
How's your education coming?
Well. I declare.
I told you I'd come.
Well, I didn't believe it.
Hmm, thank you very much.
You could've come to see me, then.
Why, I only arrived today.
I don't believe a word of it.
Oh, my dear Mrs. Miller,
will you tell your daughter that...
You have the most beautiful house
in all of Rome, Mrs. Walker.
You really do.
Well, you should know, my dear.
From what I hear,
you've been in all of them.
We got a bigger place than this.
More gold on the walls, too.
I told you if I brought you,
you'd say something.
I told you.
It is bigger, too.
Well, I hope you've been well
since I saw you.
Not very well, sir.
She's got dyspepsia.
Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.
I've got it, too.
Father's got it bad, and I've got it worse.
Ah, too much sugar.
I suffer from the liver.
I think it's this climate.
It's less bracing than Schenectady.
That's where we live...
Oh, yes, Daisy told me...
...in Schenectady.
I was saying to Daisy
that I certainly haven't found
anyone like Dr. Davis, and I don't believe I will.
Oh, in Schenectady, they think everything of Dr. Davis.
He has so much to do,
but there's nothing he wouldn't do for me.
He said he never saw anything
like my dyspepsia,
but there was nothing he wouldn't try.
I don't care what he does to me,
as long as it affords me relief.
He was just going to try something new when we left.
Mr. Miller wanted Daisy to see Europe for herself,
but I couldn't help writing the other day
that it was all right for Daisy, but I didn't know
if I could get on much longer without Dr. Davis.
In Schenectady, he's at the very top,
and there's a great deal of sickness there, too.
It affects my sleep.
Yes, but, apart from that, you are enjoying Rome?
Well, I must say I'm disappointed.
Oh?
We'd heard so much about it.
I suppose we'd heard too much,
though we couldn't help that.
We expected something different.
Well, just you wait a little while,
and I'm sure you'll grow very fond of it.
I hate it worse and worse every day.
Oh, well, you're like the infant Hannibal.
No, I ain't like any infant!
Well, that's true, and you never were,
but we've seen places a long way ahead of Rome.
Oh, uh... for example?
Well, there's Zurich.
Yes, yes...
Up there in the mountains.
Well, I think Zurich's real lovely,
and we didn't hear half so much about it.
If you ask me, the best place
we've seen is the City of Richmond.
He means the ship.
We came over on the City of Richmond,
though Randolph had a good time on the crossing.
Only thing wrong with the City of Richmond,
it was going the wrong way.
Well, we'll turn around
and go the right way sometime.
Daisy seems to be happy, anyway.
Oh, yeah, it's on account
of the society.
The society's splendid.
She goes around everywhere.
She's made a great many acquaintances.
So I've heard...
Of course, she goes around more than I do.
I must say, they've all been very sweet.
They've taken her right in,
and then she knows a great many gentlemen.
Oh, she thinks there's nothing like Rome.
Of course, it's a great deal pleasanter
for a young lady...
I've been telling Mrs. Walker
how mean you were.
Mean? And what evidence have you offered?
Why, you were awfully mean at Vevey.
You wouldn't do most anything.
You wouldn't even stay when I asked.
He went off to Geneva.
My dear Miss Miller,
have I come all the way to Rome
just to be riddled by your silver shafts?
Just listen to him say that.
Did you ever hear anything so quaint?
So quaint, my dear?
Well, I don't know. Mrs. Walker...
Mother. We've got to go.
I want to tell you something.
Eugenio will raise something fierce.
I'm not afraid of Eugenio.
You know I'm coming to your party, Mrs. Walker.
I'm delighted to hear it.
I've got a lovely dress. I'm sure of that.
But I want to ask a favor. Yes?
Permission to bring a friend.
Well, I'd be happy to see
any of your friends.
Oh, they're not my friends.
They don't take to me.
It's an intimate friend of mine.
I never spoke to one of them.
Mr. Giovanelli. I'd be happy
to have him come.
He's just the finest kind of Italian.
He's a great friend of mine
and the handsomest man in the world,
except for Mr. Winterbourne.
He knows plenty of Italians,
but he wants to know some Americans.
It seems he's crazy about Americans.
Well... He's tremendously clever.
I look forward to meeting Mr. Giovanelli.
And he sings. Mother.
He's perfectly lovely.
Eugenio's really going to raise something on me.
Well, I guess we'd better go back to the hotel.
You go back, Mother.
I'm just going to walk around a little.
She's going to walk with Mr. Giovanelli.
I'm going to take a walk on the Pinchio.
Alone, my dear, at this hour? It's not safe.
There are lots of people up there at this hour.
That's exactly why I don't think it's safe.
Well, then, neither do I.
You're sure to catch a Roman fever.
You've heard what Dr. Davis told you.
Give her some of that medicine before she goes.
Oh, Mrs. Walker, you're too perfect.
I'm not going alone.
I'm going to meet a friend.
Mr. Giovanelli.
Oh, your friend won't keep you
from catching the fever.
Is it Mr. Giovanelli?
Mr. Giovanelli.
The beautiful Mr. Giovanelli.
My dear girl, please take my advice.
Don't prowl off to the Pinchio at this hour
to meet a beautiful Italian.
Well, he speaks first-rate English.
Goodness, I never heard such a fuss.
I don't want to do anything
that's going to affect my health or my character,
but there's an easy way to settle it.
The Pinchio's only a hundred yards off,
and, if Mr. Winterbourne
were half as polite as he pretends,
he'd offer to walk me right over.
Oh, I wonder if I might have the pleasure
of walking you to the Pinchio, Miss Miller.
Oh, Mr. Winterbourne, how gracious of you.
Oh, think nothing of it.
Good-bye, Eugenio.
I'm going to take a walk.
This is the most beautiful spot in Rome.
Hmm, it's renowned to be.
I think it's more beautiful than Central Park.
Oh, yes, I would say.
Why haven't you been to see me?
You can't get out of that.
But I told you, I just stepped off the train.
Then you must've stayed on the train
a good while after it stopped. Oh.
I guess you were asleep.
You had time to go see Mrs. Walker.
I knew Mrs. Walker.
I know where you knew her, too.
You knew her at Geneva. She told me so.
Well, you knew me at Vevey.
That's just as good, so you should've come.
Well, I heard you hadn't been lacking
in company, anyway.
We've got splendid rooms at the hotel.
Eugenio says they're the best rooms in Rome.
Really? We're going to stay all winter,
if we don't die of the fever,
and I guess we'll stay then.
Well... It's ever so much nicer than I thought.
I thought it'd be awfully quiet and terribly poky.
I was sure we'd be going around all the time
with one of those dreadful old men
who explain about pictures, and fireplaces and things.
I see. But we only had
about a week of that-- now I'm enjoying myself.
I know ever so many people, and they're all so charming.
The society is very select.
They're all kinds: English, Germans, Italians...
I think I like the English best.
I like their style of conversation,
but there are some lovely Americans.
Oh, there's lovely...
I never saw anything so hospitable.
There's something new every day.
Well, do you ever go out...?
There's not much dancing,
but I must say I never thought
dancing was everything.
I was always fond of conversation.
I guess I'll have plenty of that at Mrs. Walker's.
Her rooms are too small for anything else.
Oh, no.
Now, shall we buy some candy
for poor old Randolph?
Oh, all right.
I want that one.
Now I'll walk you back.
Oh, no. I'm going to meet Mr. Giovanelli.
Oh, must you?
Of course. He's waiting around here somewhere.
Well, I'm certainly not going to help you find him.
Then I'll find him without you.
I'm certainly not
going to let you leave me.
Are you afraid you'll get lost or run over... with your lollipop?
Oh, now, see here, Daisy...
But there he is.
Where?
Leaning against that tree.
He's staring at all the women.
Did you ever see anything so cool?
Do you seriously mean to speak to that thing?
Do I mean to speak to him?
Why, you don't think I'm going
to communicate by signs, do you?
Look here. I hope you understand
I intend to come with you.
I don't like the way you say that.
It's too imperious. Pardon me, but the point was
to give you an idea of my meaning.
I've never allowed a gentleman to dictate
to me or interfere with anything I do.
I think that's just where
your mistake has been.
You should listen to a gentleman
sometimes-- the right one.
I do nothing
but listen to gentlemen.
Tell me if Mr. Giovanelli's the right one.
No, he's not the right one.
Come now, I want you to tell me
everything you've done today,
aside from getting dressed,
which must affect most of us.
Miss Miller is the most amusing
young lady I never meet. Ever meet.
Ever meet. Grazie. Prego.
You're American, no? Yes.
Well, so he claims
but he never lives there.
Ah, you don't like.
Not at all. I've simply been
traveling abroad, studying at Geneva.
Mm-hmm.
I like America.
You've been?
Please?
You've been to America?
Oh, no, never. Ever? Never.
Never. See, now, I go there one day.
Mmm.
I don't like Italians so much.
Oh, I do.
Well, because you've very genteel--
How do you say...?
Nice.
Very nice. Grazie.
Thank you.
No, thank you, you.
Mr. Winterbourne, Mr. Winterbourne. Yes.
Mr. Winterbourne? Si.
Mrs. Walker just there.
She ask you, you come.
Wha-What-what? Oh.
Oh, excuse me a moment.
Women follow wherever he goes.
I'll be right back.
Good afternoon. What brings you here?
This is really too dreadful.
That crazy girl mustn't be allowed
to do this sort of thing,
walking here like this with two men.
50 people have noticed her.
Well, I think it's a shame to make too much fuss about it.
It's also a shame to let the girl ruin herself.
Oh, she's very innocent.
She's very reckless... and, left to herself,
goodness knows how far it may go.
I mean, did you ever see
anything so blatantly imbecile as the mother...
allowing her daughter to...
I mean, after you left,
I couldn't sit still thinking about it.
Thank heavens I've found you.
And what do you plan to do with us now?
If she will get in and ride about with me for a while,
it will seem as though it's all arranged.
At least that way the world will see
that she's not running absolutely wild.
Ask her to step over here, would you?
I really don't think
it's a very happy idea, but,
uh... you're free to try.
Oh, sure...
Well, hello, again, Mrs. Walker.
I'm just enchanted to have a chance
to introduce you to Mr. Giovanelli.
This is he. Mr. Giovanelli,
this is the famous Mrs. Walker
who so sweetly asked you to a party.
I'm most honored. How do you do?
I declare, that is
the loveliest carriage rug
I ever saw anywhere. Isn't it lovely?
I'm glad you like it.
Why don't you get in
and let me put it over you?
Oh, no, thank you.
I'll like it ever so much more
watching you drive around with it.
Oh, do get in and drive about with me.
That would be charming,
but it's so fascinating just as I am.
Well, it may be fascinating, my dear,
but it's not the custom here.
Well, it ought to be, then. If I didn't walk, I'd expire.
Well, you should walk with your mother, dear.
With my mother, dear?
My mother never walked ten steps in her life,
and, then, you know, I'm more than five years old.
You're old enough to be more reasonable.
You're old enough, dear Miss Miller,
to be talked about.
Talked about? What do you mean?
Come into my carriage, and I will tell you.
I don't think I want to know what you mean.
I don't think I'd like it.
I think you should know, Miss Miller.
I think it's time you did,
or do you prefer being thought a very reckless girl?
Gracious me.
Does Mr. Winterbourne think that to save our reputation
I ought to get in the carriage?
I think you should get into the carriage.
Oh, I never heard anything so stiff.
If this isn't proper, Mrs. Walker,
then I'm improper, and you should give me right up.
Good-bye. I hope you have a lovely ride.
Get in this.
I really feel I should accompany her, don't you?
Mr. Winterbourne, if you don't get in here,
I shall never speak to you again.
All right. Just a moment.
Here he comes at last.
I'm very sorry, but she insists I ride with her.
Will you...forgive me?
That wasn't very clever of you.
I don't wish to be clever.
Only honest in cases like this.
Well, your honesty's only put her off.
It's happened very well.
If she's so determined to compromise herself,
the sooner one knows it, the better.
She meant no harm, you know.
One can act accordingly,
or that's what I thought, a month ago,
but she's been going too far.
Well, what's she been doing, for heaven's sake?
Everything that's not done here.
Oh.
Flirting with any man she can pick up,
sitting in corners with mysterious Italians,
dancing all evening with the same partner,
receiving callers at 11:00 at night.
Her mother melts away when they come.
But her brother sits up till 2:00 in the morning.
So he must be edified by what he sees.
I'm told that at their hotel
everyone's talking about her,
and that a smile goes around the servants
when a gentleman comes and asks for Miss Miller.
I don't think we should pay any attention to servants.
The girl's only fault
is she thinks Giovanelli's a gentleman.
Of course, he isn't even a very good imitation.
There you are.
He's a penny-a-liner-- some third-rate artist,
but how can she know?
She's naturally indelicate.
He's not bad-looking.
How long had you known her at Vevey?
A couple of days.
Imagine her making that remark
about your going to Geneva.
Yes. Taste never has been
the Miller family's strongest point.
On the other hand, Mrs. Walker,
perhaps you and I have lived too long at Geneva.
I really think you should stop.
Stop?
Encouraging the girl, flirting with her yourself,
giving her any further opportunity to expose herself.
Let her alone.
I'm afraid I can't do anything quite as enlightened as that.
I like her very much, you know.
Well, all the more reason
you shouldn't help her to make a scandal.
Well, you may be sure
there'd be nothing scandalous in my attentions.
Well, I've said what I had to.
If you wish to rejoin the young lady
you have a chance.
I believe I will.
As you wish.
Madame Miller.
Finally.
Excuse me a moment.
I wouldn't miss this.
Uh, no, I've come all alone, you see.
I'm so frightened, I don't know what to do.
It's the first time I've ever been to a party alone,
especially in Italy.
I wanted to bring Randolph, or Eugenio, or someone,
but Daisy just pushed me off by myself.
And doesn't your daughter intend...?
I'm not used to going around alone.
...to favor us with her company?
Oh, well, Daisy's all dressed.
She got dressed on purpose before dinner,
but she's got a friend of hers there--
the gentleman she wanted to bring.
Mr. Giovanelli, yes.
The handsomest of the Italians.
I've had the pleasure.
Well, they got going at the piano.
Seems they couldn't stop.
Mr. Giovanelli does sing splendidly...
but I guess they'll come before very long.
I'm sorry she's coming in that way.
Well, I told her,
there was no use getting dressed before...
This is just horrible, Charles.
She's trying to take revenge on me.
When she comes, I won't speak to her.
...no use putting on a dress like that
just to sit around with Mr. Giovanelli.
Miss Miller.
I'm afraid you thought I was never coming.
That's why I sent Mother off to tell you.
Here, this is for you.
Isn't it pretty?
I wanted to make Mr. Giovanelli
practice some things before he came.
You know, he sings beautifully,
and I want you to ask him to sing.
This is Mr. Giovanelli. Yes.
You know, I introduced him to you.
How do you do?
I'm sorry we are so late.
He's got the most lovely voice.
He knows the most charming songs.
I made him go over them tonight on purpose.
We had the greatest time at the hotel.
Is there anyone here I know?
I think everyone knows you.
You are hungry?
Oh, yes, yes.
Well, let's go. Mother...
Daisy, did you ever get Randolph to bed?
Well, he said Mr. Giovanelli's singing kept him awake...
I do hope this is the finale.
I still haven't managed to find out
who finally asked him to sing.
Daisy Miller.
Apparently not. She's too busy chattering.
Look, she's worked her way
over to your old college chum.
It's a shame these rooms are so small. We can't da...
I'm not too sorry. I can't dance a step.
Of course you can't.
Your legs would be stiff
cooped up in that carriage all that time.
Well, they were quite restless there.
They really wanted to walk beside you.
Oh, well, we paired off. That was much better.
My other friend, my friend in need, stuck by me.
He seems more in control of his limbs than you are.
I'll say that for him.
But did you ever hear anything so cool
as Mrs. Walker's wanting me to get into her carriage
and drop poor Mr. Giovanelli,
and all supposedly just to be proper.
People surely do have different ideas.
It surely wouldn't have been very kind.
He's been talking about that walk for ten days.
He shouldn't have talked about it at all.
He'd never dare ask a young Italian lady
to walk about the streets of Rome with him.
About the streets?
Well, then, where would he ask her to walk?
Besides, Pinchio's not the streets anyway,
and thank goodness I'm not a young Italian lady.
Young Italian ladies must have a dreadfully
poky time of it, if you ask me.
Why should I change my habits for them?
I'm afraid you have the habits of a ruthless flirt.
Of course, I do.
I'm a terrible, frightful flirt.
Did you ever hear of a nice girl that wasn't?
But now I guess you'll tell me I'm not a nice girl.
Uh, you're a very nice girl, but I wish you...
What?
I wish you'd flirt only with me.
Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.
But you're the last person I'd think of flirting with.
I told you-- you're too stiff.
You say that too often.
If I thought I could make you angry,
I'd say it again.
Well, don't. When I'm angry, I'm stiffer than ever.
Oh, I'd like to see that.
But if you won't flirt with me,
at least stop flirting with your friend at the piano.
They don't understand that sort of thing here.
Really? I thought they understood nothing else.
Not in young, unmarried women.
Well, it seems to me ever so much more proper
in a young, unmarried woman than an old married one.
Flirting is a purely American custom, Miss Miller.
It doesn't exist here.
So when you go about in public with Mr. Giovanelli,
and without your mother...
Goodness me, poor mother.
...and though you may be flirting,
Mr. Giovanelli is not.
He means something else.
Well, at least he isn't preaching.
And if you really want to know,
neither of us is flirting, not a speck.
We're too good friends for that.
We're real intimate friends.
I see.
Well, if you're in love with each other,
it's quite another affair, isn't it?
Mr. Giovanelli at least...
Mr. Giovanelli never says
such very unpleasant things to me.
Grazie, grazie, grazie.
Do you want some tea? Yes?
In the other room.
It never occurred to Mr. Winterbourne
to offer me any tea.
I've offered you some good advice.
I prefer weak tea.
Well, you sang beautifully.
I just love that song.
I don't care what he does to me,
as long as he brings me what I need.
But I must say,
the climate in Rome is less bracing than Schenectady,
especially in winter.
That's where we live-- in Schenectady.
I was saying to Daisy
that I certainly haven't found anyone like Dr. Davis,
and I don't believe I will.
Oh, but Schenectady thinks everything of Dr. Davis.
There's so much to do,
but there's nothing he wouldn't do for me.
Your friend hasn't moved all evening.
Oh, really?
Why don't you break in, Freddy?
She's a disgrace.
Oh, Mrs. Walker,
I want to thank you for a serata.
Absolutely delizioso.
Oh, well, I'm so glad you managed to come.
So nice of you.
We probably should go. Mother's probably tired.
There she is.
Mother, I know you're exhausted.
Good night.
Thank you so much.
Good night.
Well, good night, Mrs. Walker.
We had ever so nice a time. I'm sorry...
Good night, Mrs. Walker. We had a beautiful time.
You see, though I let Daisy come to parties without me,
I certainly don't want her to leave them without me.
Good night.
That was very cruel.
She never enters my drawing room again.
Signore?
Madame Miller, per favore.
Oh... Grazie.
Prego. Buon giorno.
Yeah. Buon giorno.
Signore?
Madame Miller?
Oh... Grazie.
Buena sera, signore.
Buena sera.
That's what makes you
so pensive these days, eh?
Oh, have I been pensive?
Preoccupied, anyway.
You were supposed to come by for me this morning.
Was I? I thought we said to meet here.
No, you see.
I'm sorry.
Your mind's on other things.
Well, I really don't know what.
Why, that Miss Baker
or Miss Chandler or what's-her-name.
Miss Miller.
Yes, and her intrigue with that...
Intrigue? ...that little barber's block.
Something carried out with so much publicity.
Well, that's their folly, it's not their merit.
I don't think there's any intrigue.
I've heard a dozen people speak of it.
They say she's quite carried away by him.
Well, they're certainly as thick as thieves.
He's very handsome.
Do you think so?
It's easy to see how it is.
She thinks him the most elegant man in the world,
the finest gentleman.
She's never seen anything like him.
He's better even than the courier.
Was the courier probably who introduced them.
Expects a fine commission, I'm sure,
if the fellow succeeds in marrying her.
I really don't believe she has any thought of marrying him.
I'm not sure she's capable of thought at all.
I certainly see no evidence of it.
She romps on from day to day,
from hour to hour,
saving from the golden age.
Can imagine nothing more vulgar.
No, I'm sure that's much more than
Giovanelli really expects.
Who?
The little Roman.
My dear Frederick,
she will be telling you at any moment
that she is engaged, depend on it.
Well, apparently
he's a perfectly respectable little man.
A lawyer, I think,
though he doesn't exactly move in the best circles.
She must be wonderfully pretty and interesting to him.
But he can't really hope to pull it off.
He must see that's too impossible a piece of luck.
What has he to offer? He hasn't even a title.
I mean, if only a marquis or even a count.
Or indeed anyone at all.
Wouldn't it be funny if they were both
perfectly innocent and sincere and had no idea
the impression they're creating?
No, it wouldn't be funny.
Madame Miller, per favore.
Oh. Grazie.
Si?
Oh! Grazie! Prego.
Grazie!
Prego. Prego, Signore.
Well, if it isn't Mr. Winterbourne.
Great, good afternoon.
Am I interrupting?
Not at all.
Mr. Giovanelli's learning an American song.
Perhaps not.
Well, don't just stand there,
come in and close the door.
Bring that chair over here and sit down.
I want you to hear this.
Mr. Giovanelli will now sing the song I've taught him.
Oh, no, no. It's not possible.
Si, si, it's possible.
Well, hurry up, Mr. Winterbourne.
Is Randolph out?
Oh, yes.
Eugenio's taken him and Mother to buy some shoes.
Mother's feet hurt and Randolph's coming out of his shoes.
I don't know what he does to them.
Mr. Winterbourne. Yes?
Will you sit down?
Mr. Giovanelli, we're waiting.
No, no, you sing your song.
It's bellissimo.
This is the most difficult song I never hear.
Ever hear. Ever hear, grazie.
Prego. Come on, we're waiting, sing.
Mr. Winterbourne is getting impatient.
Mr. Winterbourne, please, you ask her to sing.
I'd enjoy that.
Ah...
You think so.
Well, first we're going to hear Mr. Giovanelli,
then maybe I'll sing.
Oh, she's always winning.
I have no doubt.
Ready? Here we go.
* When the night walks in as black as a sheep *
* And the hen and her eggs are fast asleep *
* Then into her nest with a serpent's creep *
* Pop goes the weasel *
* Then form two lines as straight as a string *
* Dance in and out, then three in a ring *
* Dive under like a duck and sing *
* Pop goes the weasel *
No, stop it.
Yes.
I can't, not tonight.
* Pop goes the weasel *
* Then form two lines as straight as a string *
* Then in and out, then three in a ring *
* Dive under like a duck and sing *
* Pop goes the weasel. *
Bravo. Encore.
No, no, I think he's heard me enough.
I play for you, now.
Would you like that?
Very much.
All right.
* To watch the scene below *
* The creek and the creaking old mill, Maggie *
* As we used to long ago *
* The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie *
* Where first the daisies sprung *
* The creaking old mill *
* Is still, Maggie *
* Since you and I were young *
* And now we are aged and gray, Maggie *
* And the trials of life nearly done *
* Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie *
* When you and I were young. *
Grazie.
Bravo, bravo.
Grazie, maestro.
Oh...
here's mother.
Uh, good afternoon, Mrs. Miller. Buena sera.
Daisy, is Randolph here? Did he come back?
I thought he was with you.
Well, he was, but we were buying some shoes
and he just ran right out of the store.
Eugenio is looking for him.
I thought maybe he came home.
I declare, that boy's going to be the death of me.
Just wished Dr. Davis was here.
Is there something I can do?
Oh, no... oh.
Allow me, please.
Seem to be so many different pieces.
He has the best manners, doesn't he?
In there. Excuse me.
Mr. Giovanelli's going to practice
his new song for you both.
Oh, no.
Oh, yes...
She's always teasing that poor Mr. Giovanelli.
I don't know how he stands it, but he does.
They're always together.
Yes, I've noticed.
They're certainly very intimate.
Oh, it seems as if they couldn't live without each other.
Yes.
Well, he's a real gentleman anyway.
But I guess I have the joke on Daisy, though.
The joke?
Well, that she must be engaged.
And how does your daughter take the joke?
Oh, she says she ain't.
I see.
She might as well be.
She goes on as if she was.
I'm afraid I must be going.
But I've made Mr. Giovanelli
promise to tell me if Daisy does it.
I'd want to write Mr. Miller about it, wouldn't you?
Well, I imagine so.
Perhaps you'll say good-bye to Daisy for me.
Oh, yes, I will.
And if you see Randolph,
please tell him to come home right away, won't you?
Of course. Good day.
Good day.
Randolph.
Now where's Eugenio?
Looking for me.
Mr. Winterbourne.
Well, I should think you'd be lonesome.
Lonesome?
Always going around by yourself.
Can't you get anyone to walk with you?
I'm not as lucky as your gallant companion.
I know why you say that.
You think I go around too much with him.
Everyone does, if you care to know.
Of course I care to know,
but I don't believe a word of it.
They're only pretending to be shocked.
They don't really care a straw what I do.
Hmm, I think you'll find they do.
Besides, I don't go around so much.
And they'll show it, unpleasantly.
How unpleasantly?
They're already not inviting you places.
Haven't you noticed anything?
I've noticed you, but then I noticed
you were stiff as a ramrod the first time I ever saw you.
Well, you'll find I'm not half as stiff as some others.
How will I?
Try going to see them.
What will they do to me?
They'll give you the cold shoulder.
Do you know what that means?
You mean the way Mrs. Walker did the other night?
That's exactly what I mean.
I wouldn't think you'd let people be so unkind.
How can I help it?
I would think you'd want to say something.
I do want to say something.
Oh? Do you?
I want to say that...
Yes?
Your mother says she believes you're engaged.
Well, I guess she does.
And does Randolph believe it?
Oh, I don't think Randolph believes anything.
But since you've mentioned it, I am engaged.
You don't believe it!
Yes, I do.
For you!
Grazie.
Prego.
You will walk with us?
No, thank you.
No, you don't believe it.
But if you possibly do, well, I'm not!
... and she wants me to come to Geneva with her this summer.
Her brother's still at school there.
You know them, don't you?
Freddy? Hmm?
Really! I'm sorry.
You didn't say ten words all through dinner.
What's the matter with you?
I don't know.
I saw her today.
You did? Mm-hmm.
Where? At the D'Orio Palace.
Right under that portrait of the Pope by Velázquez.
Was she alone?
Well, no... with that little Italian
who's always got a stack of flowers in his button hole.
She's certainly pretty.
Yes.
She's a mystery.
What?
I can't decide if she's really reckless or really...
Innocent?
Yes, I suppose.
Well, no one can say you aren't gallant.
I hear she's about at all hours with that Italian,
and not always in the most refined surroundings.
Oh...
Maybe she's just an American girl, and that's that.
All right.
What do you say we both go back to Geneva this summer?
Well, it's a hopeless puzzle, anyway.
Whatever it is I've missed about her, it's too late now.
She's obviously carried away with Giovanelli.
I don't think you've missed a thing.
Listen, do you mind?
I'd like to walk the rest of the way.
What?! It's all right.
Are you sure?
Yes, it's such a lovely evening.
I feel like some air.
Will I see you at the opera next week?
Of course.
Cheer up. Be a grand summer!
Well, he looks at us
like one of those old lions or tigers
must have looked at the Christians.
Well, let us hope he isn't hungry.
He eats me first, and you for dessert.
Well, that was Mr. Winterbourne.
He sees me, and he cuts me dead.
How long have you been pulling about here?
Well!
I guess all evening.
I see.
I never saw anything so quaint.
Well, I'm afraid you won't think
a bad attack of malaria is very quaint.
That's what the Roman fever is, you know.
This is just the way people catch it.
I'm really surprised a Roman
could be so extraordinarily rash.
Ah, for myself, I have no fear.
Well, neither have I, for you.
I'm speaking for this young lady.
I assured Miss Miller
it was a serious indiscretion.
I was never sick, and I don't mean to be.
But when was Mademoiselle ever--?
I'm as healthy as a horse.
I was bound to see the Coliseum by moonlight.
I wouldn't have wanted to go home without that.
We've had the most beautiful time.
Haven't we, Mr. Giovanelli? Oh, yes.
If there's any danger, Eugenio can give me some pills.
Eugenio's got some splendid pills.
Then I advise you to drive home
as quickly as possible and take one.
What he says is very good.
I go to see if the carriage is there.
Well, I have seen the Coliseum by moonlight.
That's one thing I can rave about.
There ain't no Coliseum in Schenectady yet.
Why are you always so stiff?
Hmm!
Did you believe I was engaged the other day?
It doesn't really matter now what I believed the other day.
Well, what do you believe now?
I believe it makes very little difference
whether you're engaged or not.
Quick, quick!
If we are home by midnight, we are quite safe.
I do hope
you won't forget Eugenio's pills.
I don't care if I have the Roman fever or not.
Well, I heard that she spent
the entire night with that man alone.
Well! Just imagine!
I'd rather not.
Do you believe it's true?
It was after midnight when she came home.
I blame the mother.
Oh, ladies...
Freddy! Freddy!
Where have you been all week?
Oh, I went to the seashore for a few days.
Actually, I'm going back to Geneva tomorrow.
I just came by to pick up some things
and say good-bye to my aunt.
And Mrs. Walker, I hope. She's over there. Will you?
All right.
...most alarming...
Is she in the hospital?
No, her mother's taking care of her,
but she's seen several doctors.
Well, I must say, I'm not surprised.
Uh, Charles?
Yes, of course. Bye-bye!
Yes, what?
What do you hear about Daisy Miller?
Oh, that's right. You've been away.
You haven't heard. Heard what?
The silly girl's caught the Roman fever.
They say she's really very ill.
Apparently, she stayed out too...
Freddy?! Where are you going?
Freddy?
Going around at night that way.
That's what's made her so sick.
She's always going around at night.
I wouldn't think she'd want to.
It's so blasted dark over here,
you can't see anything unless the moon's up.
It's not like that in America.
Ain't that right, Eugenio?
So dark over here.
Mm.
This way, Doctor.
Randolph, aren't you in bed yet?
I'm going.
Thank you very much.
Uh, Mrs. Miller.
Why, Mr. Winterbourne.
Good evening.
Excuse my coming so late.
I've been out of the city.
I only just heard.
How is she?
Oh, the doctor says he can't tell.
I do wish Dr. Davis were here.
He's our doctor in Schenectady.
Yes, I know.
Is there anything I can do?
Oh, no, thank you.
It's just this fever.
I wish Randolph would go to bed.
But he's been very helpful, too,
in his way.
That Italian doctor said it's a very bad case.
I guess he must be right.
Her fever's been so high.
Well, then I'm sure she'll be better soon.
It always gets very high before it drops.
Daisy spoke of you the other day quite pleasantly.
Oh?
Half the time she doesn't know what she's saying,
but this time I think she did.
She gave me a message she told me to tell you.
She says she never was engaged
to that Mr. Giovanelli who was always around.
I'm sure I'm very glad.
He hasn't been near her since she was taken ill.
I thought he was such a gentleman,
but I don't call that very polite.
A lady told me
she thought he was afraid I didn't approve
of his being around with her so much evenings.
I guess I don't see the point now,
but you'd think he knows I'm a lady
and wouldn't raise a fuss.
He underestimates you.
Anyway, she wants you to know she's not engaged.
I don't know why she makes so much of it,
but she said to me three times
she said, "Mind you tell Mr. Winterbourne."
And then she told me to ask if you remembered the time
you went up to that castle in Switzerland.
I said I wouldn't give any such message as that,
only if she's not engaged,
I guess I'm glad to know it, too.
Signore!
Amen.
She was the most beautiful young lady
I never seen.
And...
...the most amiable.
And she was the most innocent.
The most innocent?
Yes, the most innocent.
Then why the devil did you take her to that... place?
For myself, I had no fear.
She... Yes?
She did what she liked.
If she had lived, I would have got nothing.
She never would have married me, I'm sure.
She never would have married you.
I hoped so, but no.
I'm convinced.
I'm sure.
Time to go, I guess.
It's on my conscience, you see?
I'm afraid I did her an injustice.
Did you? How?
She sent me a message before she died.
I didn't understand it at the time,
but I've understood it since.
I think she would have... appreciated my esteem.
COSTELLO: Is that some modest way of saying
you think she would have reciprocated your affection
had you shown it?
You were right, you know?
That remark you made last summer?
I was booked to make a mistake.
I've lived too long in foreign parts.
* And now we are aged and gray, Maggie *
* And the trials of life nearly done *
* Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie *
* When you and I were young. *