Howards End

I'm asking you to be my wife.

I know.

CHARLES: If I find Miss Schlegel is monopolizing my father, I intend to put my foot down.

I found them starving.

Are you mad?

I want to see Mr. Wilcox.

Why, it's Henry.

HELEN: I believe in personal responsibility, don't you?

MARGARET: So that woman has been your mistress?

HENRY: Ten years ago.

I have the honor to release you from your engagement.

(insects chirping, owl hooting) MARGARET (voiceover): "My dearest boy... "This is not to part us.

"It is everything or nothing, and I mean it to be nothing.

"It happened long before we met, "and even if it had happened since, "I should be writing the same, I hope.

I do understand."

(pen scratching) (pen dipping in ink) "Dear Mr. Bast, I've spoken to Mr. Wilcox about you, "and I am sorry to say he has no vacancy for you.

Yours truly, M.J.

Schlegel."

(pen scratching) "Helen, give him this.

"Basts are no good.

"I've had a room got up for you here, "and will you please come round on getting this?

"I may go round to the Basts' myself in the morning "and do anything that is fair.

M." (bell tinkling) (birds chirping, door opens) Henry, dear.

(newspaper rustling) Henry, dear, look at me.

No, I won't have you shirking, look at me.

There, that's all.

You're referring to last evening.

And I have released you from your engagement.

I could find excuses, uh, but I won't.

No, I won't.

It must be left at that.

Well, leave it where you will, my boy.

It's not going to trouble us.

I know what I'm talking about.

It'll make no difference.

No difference?

No difference when you find out that I am not the fellow you thought?

I'm not worthy of you.

Had I been worthy, I, uh...

I can't bear to talk of such things.

We had better leave it.

You and your... your sheltered life and your... refined pursuits, friends, books.

You and your sister, women like you, how can you guess at the temptations that lie around a man?

I know by bitter experience, and yet... you say there can be no difference.

Not to me.

(scoffs) Am I the last one down?

(dishes clanking) Did Helen come?

(utensils scraping) She didn't send any messages or anything?

None that I've heard.

Will you ring the bell, please?

What to do?

Why, to inquire.

There is no bell.

The bell pull is broken.

There wasn't time to fix it.

I've, uh, brought a little... gong.

Have you?

Yes, it's, uh... (gong resounds) Did you bring it from London?

Yes.

Where did you find it?

Dolly picked it up at Harrods.

No doubt you find our pretensions amusing.

I don't.

You mustn't think of me that way.

You're certainly at liberty to dictate terms.

You mustn't talk to me like that either.

I'm scarcely in a position to argue.

But you are.

(knock at door, door opens) Sir?

Please, Mr. Burton, have you discovered, did my sister stop here last night?

No, Miss.

Miss Schlegel slept at the George in the village, so far as I've heard.

May I send someone to inquire?

Or I can go round myself.

I'll go, thank you, Burton.

(places plate down) It's a very simple story.

Ten years ago, in a garrison town in Cyprus, afar from... good influences, far, even, from England.

I was very, very lonely and longed to hear a woman's voice.

That's enough, I've said too much already for you to forgive me now.

But I've already forgiven you, Henry.

HELEN: Tibby?

Helen?

Come in.

Qing jinlai.

I got your telegram, I... Shall I serve lunch now?

Rather.

Very good, sir.

(door closes) Are you all right?

I-I didn't know where you'd got to.

Yes, very well.

What did you say to me when I came in?

I?

Oh, um... Qing jinlai.

It's Chinese for, "Come in, please."

There are five ways to say "Come in," actually.

If you leave off the "Qing" it's simply "Come in" without the "please."

Or nearly.

Then there's "Qing jinlai ba."

Tibby.

Say, you look rather a fright.

Anything wrong?

I've come from Oniton.

Oniton?

But I thought...

I've come from Oniton.

There's been a great deal of trouble there.

Who's for lunch?

I don't know what's to be done, Tibby.

I'm very much upset at a piece of news that concerns Meg and did not want to face her.

I stopped here to tell you this.

I... mean to go to Munich or Bonn.

As regards my share of the furniture, you and she are to do exactly as you like.

But... My head is rather wretched.

(latching door) Has anything gone wrong at Evie's wedding?

Not there.

(sobs) (sniffles, exhales) (knock at door) It's Annie with the cutlets.

They're rather spoiled by waiting.

Do you mind her coming in, or I can get them from her at the door?

Could I bathe my eyes, Tibby?

(sniffles) Annie?

Can you come back in a moment?

ANNIE: Very good, sir.

Are you quite well, Miss Helen?

(sniffles) Yes, quite well, Annie.

Thank you.

(exhales) Leonard knew about it all along.

Meg cannot have heard it yet, I think.

Let them marry.

(breathes deeply) There remains the question of compensation.

I don't see who is to pay it if I don't.

This part is in confidence.

Meg must not hear about it.

As soon as possible, I am placing �5,000 to your account and when I am in Germany, you will pay it over to Leonard and Mrs. Bast.

Good God alive.

What's the good of driblets?

To-to go through life having done one thing, to have raised one person from the abyss?

I doubt people will think me extraordinary.

I don't give a damn what people think, but it is half of what you have.

Not nearly half-- I have far too much.

What I give will bring in 115 between two to live on.

It isn't enough.

(exhales) I didn't expect you to understand me.

I?

I understand no one.

But you'll do it?

(quietly): Apparently.

Oh, thank you, Tibbykins.

You have been very good to me.

Mm-hmm.

LEONARD (voiceover): "Mr. Theobald Schlegel, 2 Wickham Place.

"While mindful of the generosity "which prompted her kind offer, "I enclose Miss Schlegel's check for �5,000, "being in no need of money, and beg you return it to her."

TIBBY: "Dear Helen, "Mr. Bast has returned me your check for which he claims he has no need."

HELEN: "Dear Tibby, "In that case, you must go to South London yourself, "and you must find the Basts and make them take the check."

(speaking German) TIBBY: "Dear Helen, "I have tried time and again "to find Mr. Bast and his wife, "but they seem to have disappeared "off the face of the earth.

"I must admit, that considering the temptation offered him, "your Leonard Bast seems to me a monumental person after all."

HELEN: "Dear Tibby, "You must find them.

"It is insupportable that they should be homeless, and that I should be the cause."

TIBBY: "Dear Helen, It's no use.

"I'm afraid you'll have to abandon "your philanthropic venture "and reinvest your money in some sensible concern.

"On the advice of our new future brother-in-law, "I myself have lately bought shares "in the Nottingham and Derby Railway "and consequently become rather richer "than I was before.

"I suggest you do the same.

Tibby."

(bells chiming) MARGARET: "Dearest Helen, "Henry and I were married Tuesday.

"Tibby and Aunt Juley were there.

"Also Charles and Mr. Cahill to represent the Wilcoxes.

"After Oniton, I didn't mind the smallness of the ceremony "but I did wish my dear Helen had been there as well.

"Henry and I wonder about coming to visit you "in Innsbruck.

"I'm really longing to meet you if you're stopping there still."

HELEN: "Dear Meg, "I plan on leaving for Lake Garda, "where I mean to stop for a few weeks.

"But I'm afraid my plans are uncertain and had better be ignored."

MARGARET: "Although I shall most likely "be spending the summer in Italy, "possibly Naples.

H." What an unsatisfactory postcard.

Do you know, I believe she fled Innsbruck because we suggested coming there.

I suppose she dislikes meeting you.

Well, I'm sorry for that.

Certainly I bear her no ill will.

Why should you not?

She's lost all self-control.

It's maddening and not like her, Henry.

I suppose if there is a war, Helen will have to come back.

Mind the Schlegels don't repatriate back to Prussia when it comes.

I shall not allow you to go with them.

Oh, no fear of that, my boy.

The Schlegels are English to the backbone, as my Aunt Juley says.

Of course, she only says that when she suspects us of being unduly German.

(chuckles) We should ask your aunt here to Ducie Street soon.

Oh, Henry, why don't we invite her to Oniton instead?

She's longing to see it.

Whatever for?

I've only just let the place.

Let Oniton?

Henry...

Yes?

(opens lighter) But I thought... you said we were going to live there.

Did I?

Oh no, it's no good, you know.

Why wasn't I consulted?

Well, I didn't want to bother you.

(closes lighter) Besides, I've only just heard for certain this morning.

Well, where are we to live?

Why isn't it good?

I love the place extraordinarily.

Well, it's the wrong part of Shropshire, for one thing.

I didn't realize when I bought it.

And, uh, for another, the house is damp.

Oh, this is news.

I never heard until this minute that Oniton Grange was damp.

My dear girl, have you not eyes?

Have you not a skin?

I thought I had.

How could it be anything other than damp in such a situation?

The grange is built on clay.

And there's that detestable little lake steamer... Detestable?

Well, detestable's perhaps too strong a word, but you know what I mean.

These Shropshire valleys are notorious.

Why did you go there, then?

Because I... Well, why... why do, why do you want to go to Innsbruck, if it comes to that?

To visit Helen, Henry.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, but one might go on asking questions indefinitely.

(opening envelope) The truth is that I...

I took Oniton on account of Evie.

She was so keen on a country wedding, wouldn't wait for me to make proper inquiries about the shooting.

She was afraid it would be snapped up.

Well, there is no shooting at Oniton Grange.

There isn't a grouse or a partridge within five miles of the place.

Well, there's no harm done.

She had her country wedding, and I've got rid of my house to some fellows who are starting a preparatory school.

Won't the boys be damp?

Well, that's their lookout.

I've told the fellows the condition of the place.

They've been through it themselves.

Where are we to live?

I should enjoy living somewhere.

I've not yet decided.

Well, it's not yet May.

So suppose we camp out here in Ducie Street for the moment, then look for somewhere in the summer.

Somewhere permanent, Henry.

We leave Wickham in a few weeks, and... No fear.

There are rooms enough here for your brother and your sister Helen too.

That's not what I mean.

Then what?

(knock at door) May I?

Certainly.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

(dishware clatters) MARGARET (voiceover): "Dearest Helen, "Today the last box was packed, "the last of the furniture wrapped, "and the last van has rumbled away from Wickham Place.

"I don't know if I should mind so much "if another family were to move in once we've gone.

"But the house is to be torn down with the others "to make room for a new block of flats.

"I am glad, though, that you never saw the house "with the life gone from it.

"But it seems so odd to say goodbye to our home "without you.

"Henry would say it is only sentimentality, "as Tibby is no further away than Ducie Street "and you no farther away than ever-- "which, oh Helen, is too far.

(crying) "Henry has most kindly offered Howards End "as a warehouse.

"Until he re-lets it, "we are welcome to stack our furniture and books "in the garage and lower rooms.

"They've been entrusted "to the guardianship of Miss Avery, "whom, you will remember, "lives at the farm down the road.

"Meanwhile, after much discussion, "we have decided to go down to Sussex and build.

"I do miss you terribly and wish you would write me a proper letter."

Dolly!

How are you?

I'm well.

How are you?

Good.

How are the boys and the baby?

Oh, the boys and the baby are well.

Yes.

Um... Oh, are those the plans?

Does it matter me seeing them?

No, of course not.

Um, how's Helen?

Is she never coming back to England?

Everyone thinks it so awfully odd that she doesn't.

So it is.

Helen is odd, awfully.

(both chuckle) But hasn't she any address?

A poste restante somewhere in Bavaria is her address.

Do drop her a line.

I'll look it up for you.

Oh, no, don't bother.

Oh, have you heard the news?

Miss Avery's been unpacking your packing cases.

Why's she done that?

That wasn't necessary.

I supposed you ordered her to.

I gave her no such orders.

Or perhaps she was airing the things.

It was far more than air.

The floor stands covered with books.

Charles sent me to know what is to be done, for he feels certain that you don't know.

Books?

Dolly, are you serious?

She's been touching our books?

Hasn't she, though.

What used to be the hall's full of them.

Dolly, I'm much obliged.

I must go down about them at once.

Some of them belong to my brother, and they're quite valuable.

She has no right to unpack our cases.

I say, she's dotty.

(birds chirping) (knocking on door) Well, come right in, Mrs. Wilcox.

Thank you so much.

I didn't know... Come right into the hall first.

(gasps) (sighs) But...

This is my father's sword.

I didn't know if it was best hung with the scabbard or without.

(exhales) Miss Avery, I'm afraid this isn't what we meant.

Mr. Wilcox and I never intended our cases to be touched.

When you kindly undertook to look after these things, we never expected you to do so much.

The house has been empty long enough.

It's a mistake.

Very likely our mistake.

(sighs) Mrs. Wilcox, it has been mistake upon mistake for 50 years.

I don't know.

(exhales) (breathes deeply) I really don't know what's to be done.

(chuckles) (sighs) (chuckling) I dare say...

Thank you very much, Miss Avery.

Yes.

That's all right.

It's delightful.

It's delightful.

(chuckles softly) There's still the parlor and the dining room.

It's all a mistake.

It's a misunderstanding.

Mr. Wilcox and I are not going to live at Howards End.

Oh, indeed?

We've settled on building a new home for ourselves in Sussex.

Part of the furniture, my part, will be going down there presently.

Oh.

You think you are not coming back to live here, Mrs. Wilcox, but you will.

That remains to be seen.

We have no intentions of doing so presently.

We happen to need a larger house.

Circumstances... of course, some day... One never knows, does one?

"Some day"?

Don't talk about "some day."

You are living here now.

Am I?

(seagulls squawking) MARGARET: "To Miss Helen Schlegel, "Poste Restante, Munich.

"Aunt Juley ill. Stop.

"Come at once to Swanage.

Stop.

Love.

Stop.

M." Aunt Juley?

Darling?

Oh, dear children.

(weakly): You see, Doctor?

These are my sister's children.

I said all the time they would come.

And now they're here.

But we've been here for days, Aunt Juley.

You say the same thing every morning.

AUNT JULEY: Do I?

Tibby, hush.

It doesn't matter, darling.

You've been ill. What is the matter with me?

You've got pneumonia.

It's only a chill-- Tibby!

She has got pneumonia.

You've got pneumonia, Aunt Juley.

Pneumonia?

You caught a chill, and it developed into pneumonia.

But the doctor says you may be getting stronger.

Where's Helen?

We telegraphed her to come.

We had a telegram from Munich.

She'll be in London on the morrow, down by the first train.

She...

There are three of them, you see, doctor.

Such eccentric children, but loveable, oh, very loveable.

Not to everyone, you know.

But I'm very partial to them.

Especially the girls.

DOCTOR: I think perhaps your aunt should rest.

DOCTOR: Truth is, she seems to be getting stronger.

Bit of luck, she may yet pull through.

Oh, I do hope so.

Margaret.

Could you not take some steamer expeditions when Helen comes?

The weather is so beautiful.

And Tibby can do his Chinese.

Helen won't be able to stop, Aunt Juley.

She telegraphed that she could only get away just to see you.

She must go back to Germany as soon as you're well.

Really?

Helen is odd.

Helen is odd.

Very.

MARGARET: Read this letter she's written me.

She doesn't mean to come down at all.

Her London address will be care of the bankers, and we're to write or wire her there.

"Is our furniture still at Howards End?

"I should like to take out one or two books.

"The rest are for you.

Your loving Helen."

What does it mean?

Perhaps she's mad.

Tibby!

If you write to her that Aunt Juley is still in danger, she is sure to come down.

You wouldn't even lie to Aunt Juley about pneumonia.

I didn't consider that Aunt Juley was unbalanced.

And you consider Helen is?

You said so yourself.

I said she was out of balance.

What?

I don't know what to think, Tibby, I don't.

It's been ever so long, I'm dreadfully worried.

We'll tell her to meet us at the bankers in London if she wants us to tell her where to find her bloody furniture.

Let's try that.

TIBBY: I was so sure she'd turn up.

What now, Tibby, love?

It's extraordinary.

Why don't you ask Mr. Wilcox?

Henry?

Why?

Well, you know best, but he is practical.

TIBBY (voiceover): Margaret's point is this, her sister may be mad.

MR. WILCOX: Surely not.

Charles, come in.

Charles, can you help us at all?

We are again in trouble.

I'm afraid I cannot.

What are the facts?

Surely you don't mean she really is mad?

TIBBY: The facts are that Helen has been in England for three days, and she will not see us.

She has forbidden the bankers to give us her address.

There are other facts, but these are the most striking.

Has she never behaved like this before?

Of course not.

She's grieving us deeply.

That's why I'm sure that she is not well.

Mad is too terrible a word, but she is not well.

Well, it's perfectly easy, leave it to me.

You want to get hold of her, she wants her books, so we send her down to Howards End, tell her she must unpack them herself, and you meet her there.

That's just what she won't let me do.

Of course you won't tell her you're going.

That's quite impossible.

Why?

It doesn't seem impossible to me.

Nor me.

It's impossible, because... because it's not the particular language that Helen and I talk, if you see what I mean.

I see.

No, I see.

You have scruples.

Yes.

Sooner than go against them you would have your sister suffer alone because she wishes it?

She may be ill, she may be mad, as you fear, but your, your scruples forbid a deception.

I deny it's madness.

My dear, do you want my help or not?

Yes, but not in this way.

CHARLES: Pater, we may as well keep Howards End out of it.

The whole house is at sixes and sevens.

Who's "we," my boy?

Pray, who's "we"?

I'm sure I beg your pardon.

I appear always to be intruding.

Now then, if you want my help, you have it.

TIBBY: Meg.

Yes, all right.

MR. WILCOX: Good.

I will dictate.

MR. WILCOX: "Dear Helen, "The furniture is all at Howards End "but can be seen on Monday next at 3:00 p.m. "when a charwoman "will be in attendance.

Margaret."

Or what you will.

(sniffles) (car motor humming) And after luncheon, Henry and I will ambush Helen in the garden and then... pack her away to the madhouse, I suppose, if she doesn't appear to be overjoyed when she sees us.

Oh, Tibby.

(word catching) (door opens) Anything wrong with you, Charles, this afternoon?

No, Pater.

But you may be taking on a bigger business than you reckon.

How so?

Don't ask me.

(footsteps approaching) MR. WILCOX: Well, she's at the house.

Uh, I went round to the livery stable and they say a lady arrived after lunch, took a cab to Howards End.

I can't make it out.

Finish your coffee, dear.

We must be off.

DOLLY: Yes, Margaret, you know you must take plenty.

Uh, yes.

(cup rattles) Margaret, if you're not fit for it, let me go.

Let me go alone.

I know exactly what to do.

Oh, yes, I am fit.

Only most frightfully worried.

(cup clinks) (sighs) There.

We'll be off.

(doorbell buzzes) There's a gentleman downstairs after Mrs. Wilcox.

She's not here.

He's in quite a state.

Tell him she's at Howards End.

Mr. and Mrs. Wilcox have taken a car to Howards End.

When will they be back?

Mr. Schlegel doesn't know.

MR. WILCOX: By accounts, she'd have already arrived at Howards End, and our first move will be to send her down to wait at the farm.

Now, Crane won't drive in, but he'll wait a little short of the front gate just behind the laurels.

You have the keys to the house?

Hen-Henry, really... And if we don't find her at the porch, then we can stroll round into the garden.

Our object... Oh.

MARGARET: Why have we stopped?

MR. WILCOX: Pick up the local doctor.

Is that the doctor?

(brake engages) He's a very good man.

He's scarcely older than Tibby.

She needs to see a doctor.

We can take her to see an older one if we get the chance later.

Margaret, you've asked me to help, so I'm helping.

Good afternoon, Mansbridge.

Good afternoon, Mr. Wilcox.

(door closes) May I present Mrs. Wilcox?

Margaret, this is Mr. Mansbridge, the doctor.

How do you do?

On we go, Crane.

(motor humming) MR. WILCOX: I was saying to my wife, Mr. Mansbridge, that our main object should not be to frighten Miss Schlegel.

The trouble's evidently nervous.

Wouldn't you say so, Margaret?

I must ask if the girl has had any sort of shock.

No, no, nothing like that.

Is there anything hereditary or congenital?

She was always highly strung.

Tendency to... spiritualism, that sort of thing.

Nothing, nothing serious.

Musical, literary, artistic, that sort of thing.

But I should say normal.

Charming girl.

Please wait here for me.

Margaret, I insist.

I'll go in first.

Margaret... Margaret!

(gate opens, shuts) (panting) Margaret!

Oh.

Meg?

(catching breath) Oh, my darling.

Is the truant all right?

Yes, yes, all right.

Oh, my darling, forgive me.

(crying softly) (door opens) (sniffles) (exhales) Margaret?

You look upset.

Let me come inside, I want you to wait in the car.

Go away, Henry.

Margaret, give me the keys.

What have you been doing with Helen?

Oh, dearest, do go away.

I will manage it.

Manage what?

Stop that, at least!

Stop?

Stop what?

Stop what?

Come, this is an odd beginning.

I cannot help it.

Please, all four of you must go now.

Mr. Wilcox.

Stop!

We are relying on you to help us, Mrs. Wilcox.

Could you persuade your sister to come out?

On what grounds?

Come, come, Margaret.

Uh...

This is an appalling business.

Doctor's orders, open the door.

Forgive me, but I will not.

You need us, Mrs. Wilcox.

And we need you.

Quite so.

I do not need you in the least.

Nor does my sister, who is still many weeks from her confinement.

Margaret, Margaret.

From whom do you pretend to hide this dreadful secret?

Mrs. Wilcox... You are not qualified to attend my sister, Mr. Mansbridge.

Henry, send your doctor away.

What possible use is he now?

I must ask you to be calm.

For one sensible remark, I will let you in.

But you cannot make it.

You will trouble my sister for no reason.

I will not permit it.

I will stand here all the day sooner.

Perhaps not now, Mr. Mansbridge.

Now, Henry, you.

Go away now, dear.

I shall want your advice later, no doubt.

Helen and I will stop here.

Forgive me if I've been cross, but you must go.

MANSBRIDGE: Come now, Mr. Wilcox.

(car door opens) (engine starts) (birds chirping) (clock ticking) (footsteps approaching) HELEN: But why go at all?

MARGARET: Helen, I must speak to Henry.

He is my husband.

This is his house, not ours.

Charles may say no.

Well, then, we won't consult him.

Expect me back before dark.

Is it what we feared?

Yes.

My dear girl, there is troublesome business ahead.

And nothing but the most absolute honesty and plain speech will do.

Now, I am... As you know, I am not one of your Bernard Shaws, who consider nothing sacred.

We are husband and wife, you and I, not children.

I am a man of the world, and you are... you are a most exceptional woman.

Was your sister wearing a wedding ring?

No.

I see.

I am now obliged to ask the name of her seducer.

Seducer?

Yes.

I don't know her seducer's name.

She would not tell you?

I never even asked her who seduced her.

That is singular.

Why?

It is in Helen's interests that we are acting.

Who is "we"?

I thought it best to ring Charles.

He's at once gone to call on your brother.

Oh, that was unnecessary.

It is still not too late to save her name.

Are we to make her seducer marry her?

If possibly, yes.

Henry, suppose it turns out that he is married already?

One has heard of such cases.

If that is the case, then he should be thrashed within an inch of his life.

And as for Helen staying the night at Howards End, I think that is...

I think that is highly inadvisable.

I will take her to London tomorrow.

She cannot stay in England.

She will go to Munich until the child is born.

I only ask that she and I be permitted to spend one night amongst our own things before she goes.

Will you give us leave?

I cannot.

Why?

Would her condition depreciate the property?

My dear!

You're forgetting yourself.

Helen commands my sympathy as your husband.

I...

I will do all for her that I can, but I cannot treat her as if nothing has happened.

It is my request and the request of an unhappy girl.

Tomorrow she will go to Germany and trouble you no longer.

Tonight she asks-- we ask-- to spend one night in your empty house, a house you do not care about, a house that you have not occupied for a year.

May she?

Will you give my sister leave?

Will you forgive her, as you hoped to be forgiven?

As you actually have been forgiven.

(scoffs) As I actually have been forgiven?

Yes.

I have my children and the memory of my dear Ruth to consider.

I am afraid that your sister had better sleep at the hotel.

I am sorry, but see that she leaves my house at once.

You mentioned Mrs. Wilcox.

I beg your pardon?

A rare occurrence.

In reply, may I mention Mrs. Bast?

You have not been yourself all day.

No more of this, Henry.

You will see the connection if it kills you.

You have had a mistress, I forgave you.

Helen has a lover, you drive her from the house.

I've had enough of your unweeded kindness.

You have been spoiled long enough.

All your life you have been spoiled.

Mrs. Wilcox spoiled you.

No one has ever told you what you are.

You are muddled.

Criminally muddled.

Don't repent.

Just say to yourself, "What Helen has done, I have done."

The two cases are different.

In what way different?

You have betrayed Mrs. Wilcox, Helen, only herself.

You remain in society, she can't.

You have had only pleasure, she may die.

You were lonely.

You were lonely.

You have the insolence to talk to me about differences, Henry.

(catching breath) I do not give you and your sister leave to sleep at Howards End.

(birds chirping) (car engine humming) CHARLES: If a man played about with my sister, I'd send a bullet through him-- but perhaps you don't mind!

I mind very much.

(sighs) You're hiding something.

When you saw her last, did she mention anyone's name?

Yes or no?

Uh, Wickham Place.

She mentioned some friends, called the Basts.

Great Scott.

One of the guests at the wedding told me about some ragtag.

Was she full of them when you saw her?

Excuse me?

I ask you, was there a man?

Did Helen speak of the man?

Have-have you had any dealings with him?

See here, Wilcox.

She is my sister, and whatever she's done, I'm not to be bullied, not even in your father's house.

I see.

You're in his confidence.

They met at your house in Wickham Place, or-or she spoke of them.

I know nothing of the matter and have nothing more to say.

What a family!

What a family.

God help the poor pater.

(train rumbling) Are you sure we won't be evicted before dawn?

Quite sure.

I do hope so.

I'm so tired, Meg.

(breathes deeply) But I am steady now.

I shall never rave against Wilcoxes anymore.

I understand how you married him and... will now be very happy.

My Helen.

Poor Leonard.

He was not to blame.

Right up to the end, we were Mr. Bast and Miss Schlegel.

(quietly): I was very lonely.

I want never to see him again.

Though it sounds appalling.

(chuckles bitterly) He would have gone on worshipping me.

Oh, Meg, the little that is known about these things.

Except Mrs. Wilcox, dearest, no one understands our little movements.

(door opens) (door closes) (tap at door) Can I do anything for you, sir?

I can't sleep, my boy.

I think we had better have a talk, get it over.

I cannot let this kind of thing continue.

I shall do all I can for Helen, but, uh, on the understanding that they clear out of the house.

You see?

Then at 8: 00 tomorrow, I may go up in the car.

8:00 or earlier.

And, of course, use no violence, Charles.

(startles awake, panting) (coughing) (objects rustling) JACKY: Hello, Len?

What ho, Len?

What ho, Jacky.

I'm going out for a bit.

(coins clink) Going out?

What time is it?

It's early yet.

Go back to sleep.

(coins jingling) I'll see you again later.

(birds chirping) (people arguing in next room) CHARLES: I really must insist you leave at once!

It wouldn't do for others to see.

Our family's quite the most respected in the village and so if anyone, God forbid, should see you... Mr. Bast.

Oh.

Is he here?

I'm not surprised.

Now I shall thrash him within an inch of his life!

Mrs. Wilcox, I've done wrong... No!

(Charles grunts) Charles!

Where's a stick?

Damn you!

Charles!

Charles, no, no!

(grunts) No!

Helen!

Leonard, come away!

(Charles grunting, Helen gasps) HELEN: No!

Stop it!

Please stop!

(grunts) No!

(Helen shrieks) (Charles catching breath) Leonard?

(quietly): Leonard.

(birds chirping) Thank you for coming.

Did you get my message?

Message?

No.

I'm going to Germany with my sister.

I must tell you now I shall make it my permanent home.

I...

I'm unable to forgive you, and I'm leaving you.

Here are your keys.

I...

I have something I'd like to tell you.

I don't want to hear it.

My sister is going to be ill. My life is going to be with her now.

Where are you going?

Munich.

We start after the inquest.

After the inquest?

Yes.

Have you realized what the verdict at the inquest will be?

Yes.

Mr. Bast had heart disease.

He had not long to live.

The... what happened only brought on the inevitable.

That's what the doctor said.

The verdict at the inquest will be manslaughter.

Manslaughter.

There can be no other.

I have spoken to the police.

I have spoken to the magistrate.

I've used all my influence.

But Charles will go to prison.

I dare not tell him.

I don't know what to do.

I'm...

I'm broken.

I'm ended.

(Henry sobbing) (sobbing continues) But... (birds chirping, insects buzzing) I wish Henry was out here to enjoy this.

This lovely weather.

To be shut up in the house, it's very hard.

Meg, is he ill?

I can't make it out.

Not ill. Eternally tired.

He's worked hard all his life and noticed nothing.

Most people collapse when they do notice a thing.

Meg, may I tell you something?

I like Henry.

You'd be odd if you didn't.

I usen't to.

Usen't.

I do hope it will be permanent, Meg.

Two years ago, I should never have guessed.

You did it all, sweetest.

I?

Yes.

Though you're far too stupid to see.

You picked up the pieces and made us a home.

Can't it strike you even for a moment that your life has been heroic?

No, darling.

It's not like that at all.

But it is.

Oh, take care.

Oh.

The conclave's breaking at last.

I'll go.

(men talking nearby) My father has asked for you.

We have been talking business, but I dare say you knew about it beforehand.

Yes, I did.

(clock ticking) Is this going to suit everyone?

'Cause I don't want you all coming here later on complaining that I've been unfair.

It's apparently got to suit us.

I beg your pardon, my boy.

You have only to speak, and I shall leave the house to you instead.

And what would I do with the house when I'm in Africa?

Well, you may not be in Africa for much longer, my boy, the way things are looking now.

Nevertheless, I shall not want to be here.

This arrangement suit you, Evie?

Of course, Father.

And you, Dolly?

DOLLY: Perfectly splendidly.

I thought Charles wanted it for the boys, but last time I saw him, he said no because he cannot possibly live in this part of England again.

Charles says we ought to change our name but I cannot think what to, for Wilcox just suits Charles and me.

And I can't think of any other name.

Then I leave Howards End to my wife, absolutely.

And let everyone understand that.

And after I am dead, let there be no jealousy and no surprise.

In consequence, I leave my wife no money.

That is her own wish.

All that she would have had will be divided among you.

She intends after she dies to leave the house to her... her nephew, down in the field.

Does everyone understand?

"Down in the field."

Oh, come... Paul, you promised to take care.

Goodbye, old girl.

Don't you worry about me.

Goodbye, Dad.

Goodbye, Mr. Wilcox.

It does seem curious that Mrs. Wilcox should have left Margaret Howards End all that time ago, and yet she gets it after all.

(awkwardly): Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Bye, Dolly.

So long, Father.

Bye, my boy.

Always take care of yourself.

Goodbye, Mrs. Wilcox.

Goodbye.

Could you tell me, Henry, what was that about Mrs. Wilcox leaving me Howards End?

Yes, she did.

That is a very old story.

When she was ill, and you were so kind to her, she wanted to make you some return and... not being herself, she... she scribbled on a piece of paper, "Howards End."

I went into it thoroughly and... as it was clearly fanciful, I set it to one side, little knowing what my Margaret would be to me in the future.

I didn't do wrong, did I?

You didn't, darling.

Nothing has been done wrong.

(Helen talking indistinctly outside) What is that?

Ah, here they are, at last.

(chuckles) Oh, dear!

Sorry, darling, I'm sorry.

Helen, what is it?

The grass is coming up like mad.

We've seen to the very end and it'll be such a crop of hay as never.

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