The Brangwens, my family,
have lived for generations on the Marsh Farm.
A world enclosed.
It was enough for the men that the earth heaved and opened its furrows to them,
but the woman wanted another form of life than this.
The woman wanted to see the far-off world of cities and governments,
and the active scope of men.
This was a magic land to her,
where secrets were made known and desires fulfilled.
Oh, here we are. This looks like the place.
Careful of the root stem.
David used to say that all the energy goes into the flower
while the canopy is open.
All my life, I have been afraid of that,
of not being ready.
Afraid that I would not recognise my moment,
and there would be no flowering, or only a minor flower.
I have felt since I was about 16,
somewhere back then,
that my main stem has died,
and what is left remains somehow undisclosed.
"My dear Ursula...
"I'm back in England again for a few months
"before going out again, this time to India.
"I wonder if you still keep the memory of our times together.
"I have still got the little photograph of you.
"You must be changed since then,
"for it's about six years.
"I am fully six years older."
"I have lived through another life since I knew you at Cossethay.
"I wonder if you'd care to see me.
"I shall come up to Derby next week to see my guardian,
"and I could call in Nottingham.
"We might have tea together.
"Will you let me know?
"I shall look for your answer.
"Anton Skrebensky."
Will you wait?
Or will you go on?
No, I'll wait.
Ripped By mstoll
Why has he come back?
Ursula? Are you all right?
- Oh, I'm sorry, Eddie, I didn't realise. - Don't worry.
- Eddie, could I borrow an envelope? - Sure.
I don't see, really, why we attribute some special mystery to life, do you?
We understand it, as we understand electricity, even,
but that doesn't warrant our saying it is something special.
I don't see really
why we should imagine there is a special order of life
and life alone.
One minute.
- Has it been so long? - Yes.
- When did you get back? - Two years ago.
How long are you staying this time, in England?
I'm not sure, but not later than September, I believe.
You believe. Have you an appointment in India?
Well, yes. I have just six months here.
- Well, you like being out there? - Oh, I think so.
There's a good deal of social life and plenty going on.
Hunting, polo. And always a good horse.
Hm.
And plenty of work. Any amount of work.
What more could you want?
I'm not afraid of the darkness in England. Especially when you're here.
It's soft and natural to me.
But in Africa, it seemed massive and fluid with terror.
The blacks know it. They worship it, really, the darkness.
One almost likes it, the fear.
It's something sensual.
Did you always love me?
I had to come back to you.
- You're always at the back of everything. - But do you love me?
Yes.
Yes, I love you.
He seemed like the living darkness upon me.
Like the unrelaxing softness of fate.
The warmth flow of his kiss travelled over me like a wave.
As if light fell on my soul for a moment,
struggled and went out.
I was struck.
It had been so long since anyone had kissed me like that.
The stupid lights, the stupid, artificial exaggerated town, fuming its lights.
It does not exist, really.
It rests upon the unlimited darkness,
like a gleam of coloured oil on dark water,
but what is it?
Nothing, just nothing.
♪ So till the end
# When life's dim shadows fall
# Love will be found
# The sweetest song of all
# Just a song at twilight
# When the lights are low
# And the flick'ring shadows
# Softly come and go
# Tho' the heart be weary
# Sad the day and long
# Still to us at twilight
# Comes Love's old song
♪ Comes Love's old sweet song ♪
Hello, Anton.
- How are you? - Hello.
Ooh, look what Anton's got.
- Who do you think those are for? - Heavens.
- Why not unwrap it, see what it is? - Catherine, there.
I knew from the moment he came back we were mortal enemies,
- but there is nothing I can do. - Say thank you.
Because I want him and always have.
Even if it means locking away my heart and soul,
- I will do it. - Theresa, a very special one.
- The Boer War? - Now, up to bed, it's late.
If my father knew the truth of what is between Anton Skrebensky and me,
he would go mad with rage.
- Take your things with you. - Are you well?
- Good night, Anton. - Night, night.
- Don't forget this. - Good night, all.
- Thank you. - Thank you, Anton.
- Sleep well. - Good night, thank you.
My goodness, they've grown.
You look exactly the same as the last time we met.
The only reason I know the years have passed
is the size of your children!
- Where are you staying? - In Nottingham.
I have some leave.
I wish I could complete my life.
Compete what?
I don't know.
I'm sad, today.
And I've always felt blessed.
But today, I'm sad.
I'm sad too.
You don't seem worried about things being separate.
I don't know what you mean.
I have a life, a home in the army.
And I have another life with you.
And I'm sad when I leave you.
We have time. My train's not due yet.
I had passed away on a dark wind, far, far away
into the pristine darkness of Paradise.
I had entered at last the dark fields of immortality.
It was as if I had received another nature.
There's a kind of death which is not death.
It is going beyond the bounds.
I walked through the world of artificial light, immune.
The world was not strong, I was strong.
College, my ordinary routine,
was merely a cover to my dark and powerful under life.
My everyday self was just the same,
except that I had another, stronger self
that knew the darkness.
Where is your herbarium with the rest of your grass specimens, Ursula?
Oh, I've come without them today.
On the morning after his wedding to my mother,
my father said he felt as if the heavens had fallen to the earth
and he woke up among the ruins.
It must have been like that for Noah to waken
when everyone was under the Flood.
To be survivors with time to squander in a new world.
Like Anton and me this morning.
We are conscienceless gods, and the world has come under our spell.
I wish we could go away together.
- Oh, I'd love that. - Where shall we go?
Dorothy has a cottage.
- Oh, yes, let's! - What will you tell your family?
I'll tell them I'm going to London.
I suppose we should get married.
I don't think I want to marry you.
Why not?
Because it's so magnificently free as it is. It's a pity to draw attention to it.
But I'll tell you if I ever want to marry you.
I can see your wild ancestors in you, all right.
You're much more at home prancing in a wolf skin than in that dress.
This is a wonderful hat, Dorothy.
- Will you give it to me? - It suits you.
What have you got there?
- Are we going to eat these? - Yes, for supper.
- Are they safe? - We are experts.
- Well, you're not going, are you? - I have to get supper ready.
- Well, let me help you. - No, you stay and talk to Ursula.
Dorothy! I'm not a married man yet.
I want to sleep out of doors tonight.
I can't sleep in a house any more. I hate houses and I hate beds.
There's something hateful to me in your coming to me in a bed.
We shall take rugs and sleep on the downs.
I'm glad you want me to come with you.
- Won't we need torches? - We have the moonlight.
Everything indoors is artificial. I hate rooms.
Of course, I should have known you hate rooms.
- I hate rooms too. - Oh, God!
You're so transparent, flirting with Dorothy.
Because you can't satisfy one woman, you hang around others.
Oh!
- Don't I satisfy you? - No. You don't satisfy me.
You never satisfy me now.
What does it mean to me, your having me?
It felt as if I was standing at the bottom of the sea,
and the birds swam in waves over my head,
and the world lay beneath the Flood
in the terrifying swim of molten light.
Why are you crying?
It's so beautiful.
It's a pity anyone ever has to wake up.
I'm very glad you do not walk around naked,
or all women would fall in love with you.
I'm very jealous of your body.
I love it so much.
I often think you're looking for more than me.
I always need to be in love, Anton.
I always need to be swept off my feet.
You've been very quiet since you came back.
You didn't say what you did in London.
You haven't said Anton Skrebensky's name once.
And what's more, you've been crying.
He wants me to marry him.
And he wants me to go to India.
Is that something to cry about?
India will be interesting.
I'd like to go to India.
I would like to go to Africa as well, but India would do.
It wouldn't be the same.
I would be married.
I would be an army wife.
Do you love him?
Yes, I know I do.
And don't you think that will be enough?
- Enough? - For you.
I don't know.
I know I can't exist without him.
That's curious.
Why?
I find it a distraction, letting one's feelings invade a subject
- before you know what it is. - Oh, Gudrun, you are lucky.
I wish I could stop myself.
- Do you see much of Anton? - Sometimes.
Every day.
How is college?
Oh...
- I don't go very often. - Why?
I hate academics.
They think it's better to be clerks and professors than to be fertile beings.
They sit there,
in their gowns and spectacles, pretending,
when all the time, they are lurking blood-sniffing creatures,
peering through the jungle darkness,
snuffling out their desires.
That's what they are.
Only they won't admit it.
Well, I do.
I want to be free as a leopard.
I like leopards.
You'd make a good leopard.
If I draw one, I'll draw it with your face.
I have fallen in and out of love so many times.
Anton, Winifred, David, Anton.
So much action, wearying repetition, over and over,
without any understanding.
Yet I know of no other way to find my happiness.
And we have a right to happiness.
Don't run, Ursula, you'll fall!
What are you doing here?
How was your exam?
Fine.
My pay will be more when we get to India. We should be able to get along.
You'd like India. You'd be able to ride.
And you'd know just about everyone.
India sounds lovely.
I can just see myself riding an elephant between rows of obsequious natives.
Oh, but I don't know.
I should be glad to leave England.
Everything's so... meagre and paltry.
It's so unspiritual.
God, I hate democracy.
What do you mean, you hate democracy?
Only greedy and ugly people come to the top in a democracy,
because they're the people who push themselves there.
Only degenerate races are democratic.
What do you want, then? An aristocracy?
Yes, I do want an aristocracy.
And I'd rather have an aristocracy of birth than of money.
The people elect the government.
But look at England.
Who are the people?
Each of them is a money interest. I hate equality on a money basis.
- It's the equality of dirt. - I don't care about money.
I wasn't talking about you.
No.
You're talking about getting married and going to India.
Mm! Thank you.
I suggest the 28th of August, a week before we sail.
I don't think I want to be married.
Do you mean... never?
Or not just yet?
I mean never.
Don't!
Don't.
Please don't.
Anton!
Anton! Why are you like this? What are you doing this for?
Please don't.
Look, the words came without my knowing, they didn't mean anything.
Look, shall we sit down?
Hey. You won't cry again, will you?
- I didn't know you cared so much. - I didn't.
I was knocked over myself.
But I care... all the world.
- Oh, my love. - I care all the world.
I care for nothing else.
Neither in life nor in death.
- Than for what? - Than for you...
to be with me.
Don't leave me tonight.
- You have to go home. - Oh, please.
Did you sleep well?
- Very well. - So did I.
And do you love me?
I do.
And we'll be married on the 28th of August.
Yes.
I've wasted three years.
Don't take it so hard.
You haven't wasted anything.
You just don't have a degree, that's all.
You're still qualified to be a schoolteacher.
I detest the very thought of it.
But Ursula, you have everything to look forward to.
You're getting married and you're going to India.
Oh, God.
What's the matter? Don't you love him?
Oh, it isn't a question of loving him.
I love him well enough.
Certainly more than I shall ever love anybody else in the world.
But I don't care about love.
I don't value it.
I don't care whether I love or whether I don't,
whether I have loved or whether I haven't.
What is it to me?
Then what do you care about?
I don't know.
Love!
Love, love, love. What does it mean?
What does it amount to?
So much personal gratification.
I could love a hundred men, one after the other.
Why should I end with a Skrebensky?
The question is, what do you want?
Is it just other men?
Because if it is...
you'd better marry Anton.
The other can only end badly.
Then I'm to marry out of fear.
Fear?
Of my own nature.
So, if you take the smaller ones to Lincolnshire,
when you return, you can distribute the rest of your things
among the bigger trunks.
I'll not close them up until you come back.
Now, Anton gave me a box of labels and name tags.
Where did I put them?
When are you off?
Now.
- How long will you be away? - Only a week.
A week on the coast at his great-aunt's.
It's a house party.
It's our farewell, I suppose.
Here we are. The Embassy Country Club, Calcutta.
Lieutenant and Mrs Skrebensky.
I'd better put British Embassy. They won't know which embassy.
Ursula! The cab's here to take you to the station!
He's early, she's just coming!
What's wrong?
Nothing. We were saying goodbye.
You shouldn't wear that silly hat, Ursula.
It doesn't suit you.
Don't be silly! No, he's no use...
Let's get home for that.
- Seen owt of Lincoln? - ... still in Africa.
- More tea? - Tea?
She's so pretty.
Can... can you tell me please where I might find Mr Skrebensky?
- Who? Who is it? - It's Miss Brangwen.
- Oh, there is no Miss Brangwen, ma'am. - Ursula?
- It's all right, he's here. - Anton!
Catherine! How wonderful.
Louisa!
And here's Oggy!
Has your mother come?
She's giving the driver a ticking off. Went too fast.
- You know what she's like. - Oh, dear.
- George, go and help Mrs Phillips with... - I'll go.
This is Ursula Brangwen.
- I'm delighted to meet you. - My fiancée.
Indeed. Miss Brangwen.
Are you Anton's fiancée?
- Poor girl! - You have our sympathy.
This is Louisa and Catherine Phillips.
- Don't take any notice of them. - Hello.
- Will you show Miss Brangwen her room? - Yes, ma'am.
George will bring your bags along later.
Is this all your luggage?
Oh, my dear, you should speak to her about travelling abroad.
You'll lose most of it.
- Oggy! - Oh, my dear.
- Welcome. - Anton!
Mrs Phillips, how delightful.
You have such beautiful hands.
I imagine you must play an instrument?
No, I'm afraid I don't. My father does.
You are an artist, then? Do you paint?
No. I don't paint.
I suppose I'm only an artist in that I'm continually recreating myself.
What did she say?
She says her father does.
Such a shame.
Would you be a sweetie and ask Ethel for Mrs Phillips' sunshade?
- Of course. - Oggy, really, it's not necessary.
- Ursula won't mind. - No, it's no trouble, really.
Oh, excuse me. I'm sorry to bother you
but could you get Mrs Phillips' sunshade?
Oh, it's in the cloakroom under the stairs.
Oh, thank you.
Well, we got to the station, Ingram and I.
And there was a private from our regiment, and his girl,
locks in a passionate embrace.
She couldn't tear herself away from him.
"Clem!" she said.
"Clem, when you get out there, you give 'em one for me!"
Absolutely terrifying, she was.
Clem was our batman, from Barrow-in-Furness.
At last, I can have you to myself.
Why don't they frighten you?
They?
All those people.
I don't know. I'm not afraid of them.
What is there to be afraid of?
I feel so...
Oh, I don't know.
Is this it?
Is this all it is?
What?
My fulfilment!
No, there.
Under the moon.
Come in.
Have you done with me?
It isn't me.
You've done with me.
We've done with each other.
What have I done?
I don't know.
It's finished.
It has been a failure.
What will you tell them?
That our engagement is broken.
Is it my fault?
You...
I was only ever exciting to you.
I was never beautiful to you.
No. Don't tell me. I don't want to know the reason.
I'm only your mother, it's none of my business.
Anton Skrebensky's name will not be mentioned.
We will not mention Anton Skrebensky's name in this house!
"Dear Anton,
"since you left me, I have suffered a great deal.
"So I've come to myself.
"I cannot tell you the remorse I feel for my wicked, perverse behaviour.
"It was given to me to love you.
"But I must have the moon in my keeping.
"Because I could not have it, everything must go. "
"I do not know if you can ever forgive me.
"I could die with shame to think of my behaviour with you
"during our last times.
"And I don't know if I could ever bear to look you in the face again.
"Truly, the best thing would be for me to die
"and cover my fantasies for ever.
"But I find I am with child,
"so that cannot be.
"It is your child,
"and for that reason, I must revere it..."
"...and submit my body entirely to its welfare,
"entertaining no more thought of death."
"Therefore, because you once loved me,
"and because this child is your child,
"I ask you to have me back.
"I swear to you to be a dutiful wife,
"and to serve you in all things.
"Once I am with you again,
"I shall ask no more than to rest in your shelter all my life.
"For now, I only hate myself
"and my own conceited foolishness.
"I love you.
"I love the thought of you.
"You are natural and decent all through,
"whilst I was so false.
- Oh, mind yourself. - Whoa, oh!
- Whoa! - Oh, here we go!
Whoa-ho-ho!
Oi!
Mummy! Ursula's crying.
For God's sake, Ursula! Will!
Ursula, we'll be up in a minute!
- What do you want? - What are you doing?
Dancing.
Go away!
Mother. It's me.
I'm sorry, Mother.
I'm sorry.
She's delirious.
Ursula.
You have a telegram from Anton.
He's married.
I shall bring the child up on my own.
Ursula.
There is no child.
Don't cry, Ursula.
Your father loves you.
But when I'm grown-up.
Will somebody love me?
Yes, some man will love you,
because it is your nature, Ursula.
I hope it will be somebody who will love you for what you are
and not for what he wants of you.
- Tom! - Aaaaah!
- Tom! - Oh! Oh!
Tom!
Tom! Tom!
David?
Forgive me.
Get up, Ursula.
You must get up.
I cannot make a man after my own image.
I must be patient.
In time, he will come.
And I will know him when he comes.
Until then...
I've brought you these.
It's autumn.
- Is it autumn? - Yes.
Well.
What's that sound?
It's the rain.
Grandma used to say the earth was weeping when it rained.
It's been raining all the time you've been ill.
There will only remain that we detach ourselves
and become unique,
moving in freedom more than the angels,
having no laws but the laws of our own being.
Oh, look.
And the rainbow stood on the earth,
that new, clean, naked bodies would issue to a new generation,
to a new growth,
rising to the light and the wind
and the clean rain of Heaven.
Until then.
Ripped By mstoll