B1 Intermediate UK 5678 Folder Collection
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Oh, my dear Pipito.
My dear sweet obedient Pipito.
You can take him with you if you wish.
Oh, I could just imagine my father's face if I were to return to the vicarage with Pipito.
Oh, besides, he is yours, Edith.
Your own children will be playing with him soon.
- Cousin Margaret, one doesn't say such things. - (Laughs)
Oh, three days.
And you'll be the happy radiant bride.
And then lots of little ones all clamouring for rides on Pipito.
What fun we used to have in this room.
(Piano plays in the next room)
Look. Here is the sample we worked together.
Under that most forbidding governess we had.
''Young ladies must always have clean hands
and press their lips tightly when they chew their food.''
She was an old dragon.
Oh, yes, she was rather.
And this is the bed I lay in the first night I arrived.
A little girI of nine.
I sobbed and sobbed all night.
I tried desperately not to wake you with my sobs.
You lay here. Remember?
You've not regretted it?
Mm?
Regretted being my companion?
What, living here in Harley Street?
1 0 whole years in the most fashionable part of London.
Oh, dear Cousin Edith, what girI in the worId could regret having had such an opportunity?
Then why leave?
My mother would be delighted for you to stay on.
Besides, what hope will there be for you if you bury yourself in the country?
Hope?
There are no husbands in Hampshire.
Not for you.
Come.
Oh, it's beautiful.
You'll marry a man from London.
- I'm certain of it. - Oh, will I?
I'll tell you his name if you like.
You needn't bother. It will not be him.
I promise you that.
- (Giggles) - Edith.
Your mother bids me command you to return to your guests.
They're anxious to examine these Eastern delights.
Part of your trousseau, I believe.
But we have yet to fold them.
Well, you've folded one. Now, that's sufficient. Go and display it.
Margaret and I will follow after with the others.
Good excuse, Henry.
Good excuse.
You're returning to Hampshire then, to Helstone?
Yes.
Why?
Everyone asks me why.
Well?
Well, is it so absurd a thing to want to live away from London for a while?
You say for a while.
You'll return?
Perhaps one day.
When?
Henry, you've become rather importunate.
Margaret, I have good reason.
- You must have guessed at my feelings for you. - Henry, please.
I have never thought of you but as a friend.
Pray let us keep it so.
Forgive me.
Why, Margaret, why?
I've wracked my brains continually.
Knowing all that London has to offer, why should you wish to bury yourself in the country?
Life may be fuller and richer elsewhere.
EIsewhere? Margaret, there is no place for you but London.
Oh, if you could only see the village green and the church.
And the country cottages and the gardens.
- And besides... - Yes?
I want to have a better acquaintance of my parents.
Their humiliation must cease.
What humiliation, pray?
Well, it is generally noised in London that I've been Edith's companion all these years
because my mother suffers from ill-health.
Well, is that not true?
Partly true.
The real reason is that my aunt considered my mother had married beneath her.
That is why I've been, as it were, adopted.
But your father's a clergyman.
Yes. But Papa's living is a very small one.
My father is a man of conscience.
He thinks for himself.
And that is what I intend to do, Henry.
Think for myself.
Dixon, where've you been, my dear? These flowers should be in the drawing room.
I'd finished Miss Margaret's room, ma'am,
so I thought I'd give the furniture in Master Frederick's room an extra bit of polish.
Frederick's room? But why?
Well, I'd like Miss Margaret to see that I've been keeping her brother's room spick and span.
It's a wasted effort, Dixon.
You know as I do he'll never return.
Oh, yes, he will, ma'am.
The day is not far off when you'll have your family under this roof once more.
You mark my words.
Dixon, my son will never come back to England. He can't.
But he's innocent, ma'am.
And there'll prove him innocent.
Dixon, please.
All these years I've tried to protect Margaret from the truth.
She thinks he's happy living in Spain. Well, let her.
- Forgive me, but... - (Horse and carriage)
I think I hear them.
Charlotte, Miss Margaret's here.
Allow me, ma'am.
- Margaret. - Oh, Mama!
- Welcome home. Welcome home, dear. - Oh, dear Mama.
- Had a good journey, Miss Margaret? - Yes, thank you.
How are you, Dixon?
All the better for seeing you back with the family.
- As I said to the mistress, gadding about... - Thank you, Dixon. Thank you.
Come along upstairs, dear.
- Your room's ready. - Thank you.
Dixon, has the... Has the postman called?
There's a letter on the mantelpiece, sir.
And how was the wedding? You must tell me.
Oh, Mama, I should need a whole day to tell you about that.
Such excitement.
And Edith so lovely.
Well, wasn't she, Papa?
Another cup, dear?
No, thank you.
- If you'll excuse me, I'll... - Oh, yes, Richard.
I have a rather urgent letter I must answer.
Certainly, Richard, by all means. Certainly.
Mama...
Tell me, was it a pretty dress?
What is troubling him?
Your father?
Nothing that I know of.
He looks so careworn.
You've grown up now, Margaret.
You see him as others see him.
He's always like that?
Well, I married a scholar.
He's only happy in his books.
But h is worried, isn't he, Mama?
I sometimes think your father enjoys worrying.
Oh, Mama, no.
Well, it's only a small parish. He should be able to cope.
- I shall help him. - Help him?
Yes, he readily commands people's help.
Everyone is sorry for your father.
Oh, I shall enjoy helping him, Mama.
After London, I want a useful life.
Are your shoulders broad enough?
Hm?
If you once start helping him, it'll never stop. That's something I discovered.
But it's not Papa exactly, it's the cares of the parish.
Visiting the old people, reading to them.
Well, perhaps even teaching in the school.
Sacrifice your life to charitable works?
Well, the young do have noble aims.
Fleeting perhaps, but noble.
I seek the alternative to London society, Mama.
And what's that?
No veneer.
No pretence.
The core of things.
The heart.
The truth.
How like your father you are.
In London it is always driving in carriages instead of walking.
Oh, how I long to use my own two feet.
I shall tramp through the woods and across the common.
The warm and scented air against my cheeks.
And what a delight it will be simply to stand and gaze.
Gaze? At what?
Oh, everything, Mama. Everything.
The wild, free living creatures as they bask and revel in the sunshine.
- Margaret. - Yes.
Well, I should warn you, we do have a dreadful lot of rain in the district.
Oh, Mama, what a thing to say!
Well, it's true.
Besides, a young girI of your age should have other interests.
Indeed.
And now that you're home, I must tell your father that we must associate more with the Gormans.
Why the Gormans?
Well, they do have a son.
Mama, I do not want to know the Gormans, father, mother, nor son.
But they're very well-respected.
They made their fortune in trade, did they not? They are coach builders.
And those are the very people I do not want to mix with.
But who will you have as friends now you're home?
- The village is full of them. - Oh?
Cottagers, labourers.
Well, ordinary, simple people who are part of it all.
Those are the friends I want.
- They are? - Yes.
Because I want to be part of it all too.
Don't you see? That is why I am here.
Mama, we really must start thinking about the distribution of winter clothing.
I always rely upon Dixon to tell me about the needy and the truly deserving.
But if you wish, I'll consult her now.
While it's fresh on our minds.
Thank you, Mama.
- Margaret. - Yes, Papa?
Is it of immediate consequence, that tapestry that you're doing?
I would like to speak to you in the study.
Do sit down, my dear.
Well?
My mind is made up.
I'm resolved.
I am leaving the ministry.
Papa...
I can no longer be a minister in the Church of England.
I've prayed to God for guidance.
Night and day.
For years.
But your coming home, Margaret, your honesty and innocence,
has caused me to hold fast to my own integrity.
I believe in God but I cannot accept the Thirty-Nine Articles.
I dissent from the dogma of the established Church.
Papa, have you well considered it?
It seems so terrible.
So shocking.
Listen, Margaret, this is the testimony
of one who was once clergyman in a country parish.
Like myself.
It was written by Mr OIdfield,
the minister of Carsington 1 60 years ago or more.
''When thou canst no longer continue in thy work,
without dishonour to God,
forgoing thy integrity,
wounding conscience,
and hazarding the loss of thy salvation,
thou mayest, yea, thou must believe,
that God will turn thy very silence to his glory.
When God will not use you in one kind, yet he will in another.''
I must do what my conscience bids me, must I not, Margaret?
Assuredly, Papa.
What does Mama say to this?
Your mother...
has always been ambitious for me.
A country parish was not what was in her mind all her years.
She wished me to climb.
A month ago her wish was granted.
The bishop offered me a much better living.
A town parish.
I refused it.
Poor Mama.
Had I accepted I would have had to make a fresh declaration of my conformity.
I would have had to declare again my belief in the whole of the liturgy
and I...
I do not. I cannot.
- Have you acquainted the bishop with all this? - He has been most kind.
He has tried many arguments.
Arguments which I have applied to myself with no avail.
On Sunday, I preach my farewell sermon.
Next Sunday?
But what does Mama say to this?
She...
She does not know.
Not know?
You have not told her?
I'm a coward, Margaret.
- But she must be told. - She must.
She must.
I would like you to help me to tell her.
The idea of her distress fills me with dread.
I shall be out tomorrow, saying farewell to the parish.
Perhaps then?
It is a painful thing but she must be told.
Let us have everything clear.
What is going to happen to us?
Where shall we go? Where shall we live?
I have been in correspondence with your godfather, with Mr Bell.
He has helped me throughout my life.
Ever since my days at Oxford when I studied under him.
He suggests that we should take up residence in Milton.
- Milton? - He knows the place well.
He was born there.
- Milton the town in the north? - Yes, Margaret.
- A manufacturing town? - Yes.
But why?
Why there?
Mr Bell owns a great deal of property there, tenements and houses. And factories.
He rarely sees them but he is bound to keep up his connections.
He... He assures me there is a very good opening for a private tutor there.
A private tutor?
I must earn food for the family, Margaret.
The small income I have is not enough. Not nearly enough.
But in Milton of all places.
What in the worId do manufacturers want with the classics?
They are the accomplishments of gentlemen.
But Mr Bell tells me there are many who are conscious of their deficiencies
and willing to learn.
Dear Papa.
- I have one pupil already. - Oh?
Mr Bell has recommended me to a tenant of his, a Mr Thornton.
A most intelligent man.
Have you met him?
No, of course not.
You will probably find he is some very pretentious nobody.
When do we leave?
In a fortnight.
A fortnight?
Not exactly to the day. Nothing is fixed.
But something must be fixed.
Oh, poor Mama.
To know nothing about it.
But what does he mean ''doubts''? He knows better than the Church? Is that it?
Can't the bishop do anything to change his mind?
I'm afraid not.
It is all settled.
He is going to leave Helstone in a fortnight.
A fortnight?
Oh, no, that's not right.
I call that very unfeeling.
- How could he! - It is his conscience, Mama.
No, it's not his conscience, it's him.
Mama!
Forgive me.
He is the man I married.
And I love him.
But how different all this is from what I expected.
I had hopes of a cathedral cloister, you know.
Such a gentle life is a cathedral cloister.
And there's society there.
You love society, don't you, Mama?
I was born in it.
I lived in the middle of society once.
Now the very last door will be closed against me.
- Oh, Mama. - But it's true, Margaret.
If your father leaves the Church, we shall not be admitted into society anywhere.
A private tutor to cotton-spinners?
Oh, how we have come down.
If only it were Oxford. Teaching gentlemen who have difficulty with examinations.
He is a dissenter, Mama.
A dissenter.
Yes.
Well, he would do no good at Oxford.
Well, now.
Well...
Oh...
All this furniture. How in the worId are we going to manage the removal?
I've never removed in my life.
And only a fortnight to think about it.
Oh, Margaret, such haste, such haste. (Sobs)
Sir?
Well, Dixon?
I think you should go straight away to your womenfolk, sir.
Oh?
They are deeply distressed, sir.
- Yes. - They want your comfort, sir.
Thank you, Dixon.
Richard, Richard...
You should have told me.
Not Margaret. Me.
You should have come to me.
Why didn't you? (Sobs)
(Sobs)
(Clanking)
My name is Thornton.
John Thornton.
I'm looking for Mr Hale.
I am Margaret Hale.
How do you do?
Mr Hale's daughter?
Yes.
Welcome to Milton.
Thank you.
(Clears his throat) I...
I am sure my father will not be a moment. He is just taking a last look at the rooms upstairs.
You are to be my father's future scholar, I believe?
Yes.
I hope so.
Papa, this is Mr Thornton.
Ah, how do you do?
How do you do, sir?
I take it most kindly that within two hours of our arrival in Milton you have sought us out.
It's my pleasure.
How did you know we were here?
No mystery. I knew the hour and date of your arrival from Mr Bell.
I went to the estate agent's to discover what properties you might be viewing.
How shrewd of you, Mr Thornton.
Not shrewd. It was the obvious thing to do.
- Have you chosen a house? - Well...
Since a choice has to be made, we have chosen this one.
The aspect is squalid and dirty.
But it is the best we can find.
The dirt and grime of our chimney stacks keeps the country's industry forever flowing.
You will of course take luncheon with us at the hotel?
My excuses. Today's market day.
There's a lot of raw cotton. A shipment from Liverpool comes in in half an hour.
You trade in cotton?
I'm a textile manufacturer.
How very civil of you to sacrifice your time to us.
It's not altogether generosity on my part. I'm a businessman. You have something I want.
What is that, I pray you?
An education.
I... I wish to appropriate the very best of leisured learning.
I wish to master Greek before I perfect my Latin.
And, with your acceptance, sir, I should like to go through Homer's lliad with you,
- and then move on to Plato's Republic. - Excellent!
Well, Greek it shall be, then.
If there is anything I can do to assist you, don't refrain from mentioning it.
Thank you, sir.
Now, I request your permission to take my leave of you.
- Good day, Miss Hale. - Good day, Mr Thornton.
- Good day, Mr Hale. - Good day, Mr Thornton.
What a delightful man.
Surely a study of Homer and Plato are somewhat advanced.
Do not conjugations and declensions come first?
Not with Mr Thornton.
Until the age of 1 5, he attended a school.
He did?
How much do you know about him?
Only what Mr Bell has told me in his letters.
And what is that?
At the age of 1 5, Mr Thornton was left to support his mother and sister alone.
His father had...
His father had speculated wildly
and gambled with other people's money
and lost.
He took his own life.
According to Mr Bell, young Thornton was removed from school
and found employment in a draper's shop
and he was paid 1 5 shillings a week.
And of that sum, three shillings was set aside as savings
and a similar amount was used to pay off his father's debts.
Well, one wonders...
One wonders how they lived.
And yet now he is a manufacturer.
Self-help, Margaret.
Self-help.
Well, there is certainly a power and a resolution in his face.
I should never wish to cross swords with a man of Mr Thornton's temperament.
One thing at least is certain...
We have chosen a new home.
Yes, Papa.
We have a house.
Oh, this fog.
You can smell it in the house.
It creeps in everywhere.
Margaret, do this catch for me.
If we don't keep the windows tightly shut, we shall be choked.
(Factory hooters)
Richard.
Richard, are we to spend the rest of our lives here?
These last few weeks have been the worst part of the year, my dear.
The spring will be here presently and with the sun the fogs will disperse.
Is there ever any sun in Milton?
I've seen no sign of it.
In London, Mama, the fogs are sometimes far worse.
But then you had friends in London.
And so did I when I was a girI.
Gay social evenings that could shut out any fog.
But here we are quite desolate.
I took the liberty of lighting the lamps, ma'am.
I know they're a half hour before their time.
But 'tis best to get these shutters barred up.
Good idea, Dixon.
It'll keep the bad air out.
The fog brings an awful smell with it from these canals.
Margaret.
Yes, Mama?
Get me my wool, dear.
You're not going out, are you?
Yes, Mama. With your permission I would like to go out.
But where, child?
In this fog, at this hour, unescorted?
Oh, Mama, you heard the factory hooters.
Well?
Hundreds of girIs have finished their day's work and are walking home alone at this moment.
But you're not a factory girI, Margaret.
No, Mama, but I'm going to visit one.
- Visit one? - I promised.
Who is she, Margaret?
Neighbours, Papa.
She and her father live nearby.
Oh, not in the back-to-back houses?
If we are not to remain desolate, we must mix a little more.
Oh, but, Margaret, such people. You cannot be serious.
But I am.
Have you been invited?
Yes, twice.
That is what makes it so embarrassing.
Well, I cannot pass them again in the street and let them invite me a third time.
The girI is so desperately sick and ill.
It's pitiful to see her.
Margaret loves to do good works.
But this is not Hampshire, dear.
We haven't the means to comfort the poor.
There's no alms box to distribute, is there, Richard?
- No, my dear. - Mama, this is not charity.
It is a girI of my own age.
She's too ill to work in the factories as she used to.
She needs a friend.
I need a friend too.
And here is my real opportunity of getting to know someone who lives here.
But, Margaret, she lives in one of those little hovels.
Their whole way of life, it's different from what you've been used to.
I am a little apprehensive, Mama.
That is why I've put off going to see them, I suppose.
But we must not stand aloof.
Life is so much richer when you are part of it all.
One thing is certain, Maria.
This northern town and its ways has a great fascination for our daughter.
Unfortunately, this is the very evening Mr Thornton is coming.
Well, what difference does that make?
You must realise, my dear, that after I've given him his lesson in Greek,
he delights to relax amongst us for a time.
Papa, I'm going to visit a girI who is desperately sick. Near death.
Oh, dear.
Yes, I see.
I shall be back before you finish your lesson with Mr Thornton.
Please, Papa.
Very well, my dear.
(Door thuds)
Is that you, John?
Yes, Mother.
What are you doing here?
I thought you were going straight from work to that friend of Mr Bell's, that Mr Hale.
Yes, so I am. I've come home to change.
Change?
Why should you change to visit an old parson?
Mr Hale's a gentleman. His wife and daughter are ladies.
Ladies?
Do they teach too?
Mother...
Take care you don't get caught by a penniless girI, John.
I'm not easily caught, as you know.
(Laughs) Mother, you amuse me.
Oh?
Miss Hale chase after me?
She's like a queen.
And I an unwashed lackey.
Gives herself airs and graces, you mean?
No, nothing assumed.
Nothing pretentious.
A true lady.
A true lady?
Well?
And you say I amuse you?
(Laughs)
(Coughs)
(Knock at door)
Who's that? Come in.
You.
Yes, Bessy.
Father says it's out of sight, out of mind, with your sort.
Is this your sister?
How do you do?
(Murmurs)
I should leave her. Her's a bit mithered up here.
How are you, Bessy?
(Coughs) All stifled up, miss. All stifled up.
Spring is coming.
You will be better then.
Spring and summer won't do me no good.
But I shall have good weather where I'm going to, miss.
And there'll be flowers.
And amaranths.
A Tree of Life.
I shall soon be in heaven, miss.
I shall be standing before the Lamb.
Arrayed in white robes.
Revelations, chapter seven.
Know it, do you?
Yes.
(Coughs) They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more.
Neither shall the sun light on them.
Nor any heat.
And God shall wipe away all tears.
All tears.
Oh, why does God keep me waiting? Why won't he let me join him now?
Oh, Bessy, dear, you must try not to be impatient.
God gave you your life.
I'll not have my wench preached at.
Good evening, Mr Higgins.
I'll not have her preached at.
'Tis bad enough with your golden gates and your precious stones
without any more methodee fancy stuff down her.
- If that's what you've come for, you can go. - Father, don't.
Poor wench. I'm loath to vex thee, I am.
But a man must speak out for the truth.
Leave religion and set to work putting to rights what you see and know.
That's my creed.
Father, I want you with me in the City of God.
I shall mope with sorrow if you're not following after.
Father... (Coughs)
Get her a cup of water.
You're all right, love. You're all right. It'll be over in a minute.
Her ain't spit blood this time. That's a blessing.
How long has she been like this?
A gradely lass once upon a time.
But I let her go into the carding room, see.
The carding room?
I should never have let her, but her mother were alive then. We needed the money.
It were my fault in a way.
I bought books in them days.
Bought books, went to lectures. All money.
- And all the time this were happening to her. - I wanted to go in the carding room.
You didn't put me there. I begged you to let me go.
I could have stopped you.
Didn't want the others to think me soft.
Here, sup this, love.
Explain to me, will you, please, the carding room.
It's the fluff, miss. It gets in your lungs, poisons you.
Fluff?
Aye, fluff.
Bits fly off the cotton when they're carding. Fill the air till it looks all fine white dust.
They say it winds round the lungs, and tightens them up.
Some can stand it.
Some just falls into waste.
Coughing, spitting blood.
Poisoned, you see, by the fluff.
Now you know us, miss, don't you?
1 9 years of age, she is.
And now you knows.
(Recites Greek)
How would you translate that, Mr Thornton?
Let's see.
AIways aim at the highest honours and surpass all those around you.
Noble sentiments, aren't they?
Noble?
Well, yes, here we have Hippolocus telling his son Glaucus
he must never forget he is a high-born aristocrat.
Superior to all others.
If I may say so, Mr Hale, coming from the south, with aristocratic connections yourself,
- you'd be bound to give that interpretation. - What other interpretation is there?
You see, to my mind, Homer's exhortation is to any man.
Those from the north of England, had he known them.
He wants them to use their brains and talents in a competitive way,
to rise above the...the common multitude.
It's got nothing to do with aristocracy.
He's saying, those who can battle the hardest and have got the wit to do it
deserve the best positions in society.
Oh, aye, he's got a message for today has Homer.
Nevertheless, I must insist that Homer is here talking about the aristocratic warrior ideal.
- You think so? - Yes.
Hippolocus is only one ally of the Trojans amongst many.
Yet he insists that his tribe must shine above all others.
You could say that of us, a northern tribe.
We've got something which is far superior to anything the south can provide. And we know it.
And what is the something you have got, Mr Thornton?
I do beg your pardon, Miss Hale.
I didn't hear you come in.
Margaret. Do go through, Mr Thornton.
We shall have some tea after our herculean labours.
No labour.
- Sit down, won't you? - Thank you.
And what have you got, Mr Thornton, that is so superior to the south?
In short, hard work and true determination.
The will to win.
Only some of you, Mr Thornton.
- Only people like you. - Margaret.
Have you a carding room, Mr Thornton, and do the girIs die from the fluff?
Carding room? I don't follow, Margaret.
No doubt Mr Thornton will explain.
You have been talking to some of the workers.
Yes.
Then let me tell you this, Miss Hale, I'm willing to install a wheel in my mill.
A great wheel that'll make a draught, carry away the dust.
It'll cost libras600 but I'm willing to install it.
Then why don't you?
Because the hands say they prefer to work without ventilation.
They say if they stop swallowing the fluff, they get hungry.
Even the gods are powerless, Mr Hale, when it comes to such ignorance.
And who keeps them ignorant, Mr Thornton?
You who study Homer?
Who keeps them ignorant?
It's one of the great beauties of our system that a working man can better himself.
He can become a master if he applies himself.
Now, I've risen. They haven't.
I've become a master and, as such, I employ despotism.
I hope a wise one but a despotism nevertheless,
in a heroical sense, I mean.
Indeed.
I make order out of chaos.
That's what a master does.
And I think my order is infinitely superior to their chaos.
You put your own interest first, of course.
Certainly I do.
My interest must always come first.
It's got to because upon my survival depends theirs.
More tea?
No, thank you, Mr Hale.
I've had my hour's study. I think I should get back now.
As you wish, Mr Thornton.
- Good evening, Miss Hale. - Mr Thornton.
Ah, thank you.
Don't bother to show me out. Good night, Mr Hale.
A remarkable man, Margaret.
Remarkable, perhaps.
But personally I do not like him.
I do not like him at all.
John, I want a word with you.
Yes, Mother?
You've been keeping something from me.
There's trouble, isn't there?
Only I wish I hadn't got it from Mr Hamper. I wish I'd been told it straight by my son.
What has Hamper told you?
They're downing tools at his works unless he gives them another 5%.
- Yes. - That fool, Hamper.
He's let the union get hold of his factory.
- What's happening here? - If there's a strike, it'll be general.
- What, here as well? - Aye.
So you've let union men creep into your mill, then, have you?
The union's a growing force, Mother.
Growing disease, more like. You haven't been watchful enough, John.
I can't know the ins and outs of every man I employ.
Well, you should.
It's the only way to keep them in their place.
But still, while the cat's away, the mice will play. Isn't that so?
Oh? What do you mean by that?
I'm your mother.
And I've a right to say it.
You've been frittering away your time.
- Oh, you think so, do you? - Aye, I do.
Never forget this, John.
Masters and men in these parts,
they come from the same stock and they speak the same language.
When the master starts thinking he's got different breeding, cuts himself off,
- that's when your trouble starts. - I'm guilty of that, am I?
Well, aren't you?
Ever since you met these Hales, you've gone soft.
Oh, I knew the Hales would come into it somewhere.
You've got a grudge. That's the trouble with you.
Me? A grudge? I hardly know them.
Exactly. It's because you hardly know them you've got a grudge.
They're strangers. They don't speak the same as we do.
You can't bear anybody being different from us.
All I know is it makes me wild to see you falling for them.
Southerners.
London people.
Cut-glass with nothing in the bottles.
Fancy curtains, that's what they are.
- Mother, you're prejudiced for no reason. - I've got reason enough, don't you worry.
I won't have you snared by their daughter, a girI who hasn't two ha'pennies to rub together.
Now we come to it.
Aye, we do.
Very well.
I go to that house for the sole purpose of studying the classics.
Her father is a scholar.
I could say something about that too.
Greek and Latin are all very well for men who loiter away their lives in colleges.
Idlers. Well, you're not an idler, John.
So don't lose your senses.
Just because you met one of those London hoity-toity young women for the first time.
Mother, I've told you, she doesn't come into it.
In any case, the girI despises me.
- Because you're beneath her, I suppose. - No, nothing like that.
She's not stuck up.
Refinement comes naturally to her.
Truth to tell, she thinks we're the ones who are stuck up.
(Scoffs)
She prefers my hands out there to me.
Do you know who's her best friend here?
- Who? - A girI I had working in my carding room.
Eight shillings a week.
No, I tell you, if there is a strike, I know which side Miss Hale will be on and it won't be ours.
So, they are split, then.
Masters and men.
- That you'll own. - Aye, I'll own.
And what will you do about it?
Fight back.
How?
Call a meeting of my fellow manufacturers.
For what purpose?
Wreck the union.
- Now you're talking sensibly, my son. - It's got to be done.
You're a leader. All eyes look to you.
So lead them.
Aye.
Oh, miss.
You've been out picking them for me special?
Oh, I enjoyed searching for them.
What are they called? Name them for me like you always does.
Those are the daisies, as you know.
And the primroses.
Oh, but what's this?
That's wild violet.
How come you know so much of the country, miss?
I thought as how you come from London, that's all houses.
Oh, I lived in London for some years but my home is in Hampshire.
Is that the country? Hampshire?
Yes, Bessy.
Tell me about it.
There's a lot of countryside and trees and suchlike round the city of God, you know.
- Is there? - Oh, aye.
The Bible don't tell of no chimney stacks nor steeples.
It's all crystal steams and high mountains.
And milk and honey.
And the water's alive.
Tell me about the country, miss. (Coughs)
Where's my rag?
Oh, better out than in, miss.
Now, let's hear you speak of the country.
Please.
I wish you could see it, Bessy.
I loved the house we have left so dearly.
There are great trees with long level branches that make a deep shade of rest.
Even at noonday.
The grass is as soft and fine as velvet.
- Nearby there's a little stream. - (Door opens)
- Margaret. - Good evening, Mr Higgins.
Heard the news, have you?
What news?
There's me contanklements.
- I beg your pardon? - My tools, wench, my tools. We're out.
Oh, Da, not on strike?
Aye, Bess, and this time we're going to dang the masters.
We've laid our plans desperate deep, I tell you.
No, Dad, no, please.
Here, we don't want no blarting.
No, you mustn't.
Who says?
Well, the strike when mum died.
You know how it was.
We starved.
We clemmed and clemmed.
And you all started drifting back.
Them what held out, there was no work for them. They was turned away.
All they could do was beg.
That there strike were badly managed.
We've got a union this time.
A union?
- What difference does that make? - All the difference in the worId.
We're getting money laid by.
We're going to stand and fall together.
There's not a man of us going in for less wages than the union says is our due.
Hooray, that's what I say.
Hooray, for the union.
That Thornton and his set look to it.
- Are you gentlemen all right? - Yes, thank you.
Ah.
It's all right. We'll start at once.
Gentlemen.
Gentlemen, to business, if you please.
Now, gentlemen, as you recall, at the time of the last strike some two years ago,
we the principal manufacturers in Milton
agreed that if we should ever be faced again with a similar situation,
we should take concerted action
to punish the lawless and to protect the interests of our various businesses.
We hoped against hope such a situation would not arise.
However, here we are.
The workers have withdrawn their labour, the mills are at a standstill.
However, we have contingency plans.
We can import labour from Ireland.
Now, are you agreed?
(Murmuring)
I've corresponded with an agent in Dublin.
He's prepared to send us as much labour as we require.
His first shipment will be 1 50 hands,
90 male, 60 female, all sound of health and no criminal record.
So, I put it to the vote.
Do we accept the shipment?
Motion carried.
Business concluded, gentlemen.
Now, then, let me give you a fill-up.
That went very well for us.
The news is dreadful, Margaret.
I know.
My pupil, Mr Thornton, tells me that he's importing Irish labour into the town.
To crush the strike?
Not only that. He has the support of the military.
There may be bloodshed.
How well Mr Thornton lays his plans.
Oh, may God forgive me that I ever brought you to this place.
Oh, have no regrets, Papa.
I'm glad I'm here.
By God's guidance I am confronting real life.
You mustn't get involved, Margaret.
But I am involved.
On which side?
The side of humanity, Papa.
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Север и юг (1975) ч1 (North & South)

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smileyayu published on November 15, 2014
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