A Quiet Passion Page #6

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as hard to please as yourself.

Well, if he does come,

he will have to be as spectacular

as Disraeli and as sincere as Gladstone.

And as upright as George Washington?

- George who?

Emily?

Mr Emmons is coming to see us.

Our beautiful friend?

- Will you come down?

- No.

This is discourteous.

Why will you not come down and meet him?

Because he is so beautiful,

and I am not beautiful enough.

He's read some of your published poems

and admires them.

Admiration always masks envy.

What does envy mask?

Oh, that masks admiration.

He may come to the foot of the stairs.

- Miss Dickinson?

- Yes.

- I cannot see you.

- That, sir, is no matter.

It is the first time

I've conducted a visit in this fashion.

It seems unfair that you can see me

but I can only hear you.

That can be no hardship, sir,

for I am best heard and not seen.

Er... Will you take a ride

with Vinnie and me?

I do not cross my father's ground

to any house or town.

That seems such a shame,

especially in such lovely weather.

The weather will remain lovely

whether I drive through it or not.

Then I wish you good day,

Miss Dickinson.

Good day, Mr Emmons.

He will mount the stairs

at midnight

The looming man in the night

No ordinary bridegroom he

But I will wait all my days

And he will come before the afterlife

Oh, please, let him come

Let him not forget me!

Since first I saw your face, I resolved

To honour and renown you

If now I am disdained, I wish

My heart had never known you

What! I that loved, and you that liked

Shall we begin to wrangle?

No, no, no, my heart is fast

And cannot disentangle

If I admire or praise you too much

That fault you may forgive me

Or if my hands had strayed to touch

Then justly might you leave me

I asked you leave, you bade me love

Is't now a time to chide me?

No, no, no, I love you still

What fortune e'er betide me

If I have wronged you, tell me wherein

And I will soon amend it

In recompense of such a sin

Here is my heart, I'll send it

If that will not your mercy move

Then, for my life I care not

Then, oh, then, torment me still

And take my life and spare not

Oh, Emily, you should have come -

it was radiant.

Yes. And I'm sure you would have

made it even more radiant, Miss Emily.

Ridicule is not the way to

any woman's heart, sir. Least of all mine.

It was meant sincerely.

Or should I judge beauty

by the common standard?

Any standard may be common.

Familiarity, as they say, breeds contempt.

Perhaps contempt breeds familiarity.

At any rate,

beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

That is no longer true, sir.

For that truism has become a clich.

Miss Dickinson,

you are just a little too sharp.

And you, sir, are a little too quick

to play the martyr.

Then I'll take my leave

before any blood is spilt.

There are wounds which do not bleed,

but which aggrieve nonetheless.

I just assumed that you wanted

to be rid of me. I meant no injury.

Nor did I, sir. I only wish to be honest.

May I call again?

If it gives you no pleasure,

what is the point?

I had hoped that my company

wouldn't be a burden.

A burden can always be laid down, sir.

You are not required

to be another Sisyphus.

Oh, Emily, why do you behave like this?

He is a kind man and he was hurt.

I don't know.

As soon as they get too close,

I feel as if I'm suffocating.

I long for... something.

But I am afraid of it.

A man may love and then cool,

but it is not that way with me.

But you cannot be equal to a man.

If I cannot have equality,

then I want nothing of love.

I will not be so confined

that I cannot breathe.

But a rebellious spirit

invites only retribution.

Then I will be silent in my rebellion,

so that no one will know

what my true feelings are.

- God will know.

- But I will not be married to God.

But you are His possession

and answerable to Him.

He will know of my struggle

and be merciful.

And if He does not exist,

then I will be eternally free.

We never know we go, -

when we are going

We jest and shut the door;

Fate following behind us bolts it,

And we accost no more.

He fumbles at your spirit

As players at the keys

Before they drop full music on;

He stuns you by degrees,

Prepares your brittle substance

For the ethereal blow,

By fainter hammers, further heard,

Then nearer, then so slow

Your breath has time to straighten,

Your brain to bubble cool, -

Deals one imperial thunderbolt

That scalps your naked soul.

Have you noticed any blood

in your urine?

Yes, Doctor.

- Back pain?

- Yes, Doctor.

Severe?

Very severe.

She's had a fever and vomiting.

And your breathing?

It's very restricted.

You have all the common symptoms

of Bright's Disease.

- It's a disease of the kidneys.

- Is there a cure?

Not to my knowledge.

What is the prognosis, Doctor?

Diuretics and laxatives

can ease some of the symptoms.

But there is definitely no cure?

No.

Thank you, Doctor.

I'll see you out.

This world is not conclusion;

A sequel stands beyond,

Invisible, as music,

But positive, as sound.

It beckons and it baffles;

Philosophies don't know,

And through a riddle, at the last,

Sagacity must go.

To guess it puzzles scholars;

To gain it, men have shown

Contempt of generations,

And crucifixion known.

Oh, no.

I can hear her sigh

before she makes one.

Emily, Mother has had a stroke.

There.

There.

We've come to say goodnight, Mother.

Why?

I...

Father believed...

...and Mother loved...

She achieved in sweetness

what she lost in strength.

Heil'ge Nacht

Du sinkest nieder

Nieder wallen auch die Trume

Wie dein Mondlicht durch die Rume

Your wife plays beautifully, Mr Todd.

My wife does everything beautifully,

and with her whole being.

They say every man

that meets her falls in love with her.

No, she says that.

Die belauschen sie mit Lust

Die belauschen sie mit Lust

Rufen, wenn der Tag erwacht

Kehre wieder, heil'ge Nacht

Holde Trume, kehret wieder

Holde Trume

Kehret wieder

Is this a private rehearsal,

or is it open to the general public?

Mrs Todd, the exit is to your right.

Emily?

Mrs Todd is about to depart.

This life? Or just this house?

Stop it. She'll hear you.

Goodbye, Emily.

Goodbye, Mrs Todd.

Please give my regards to Mr Todd.

A man of rare patience and fortitude.

I'll remember you to him.

Perhaps next time, Emily, when

you wish to say goodbye to a guest,

you might consider using semaphore.

There aren't enough flags

to say what I wish to say.

Use the back stairs, Austin. It's quicker.

Oh, Emily, why do you behave like this?

- Now there'll be hostility for days.

How is Susan?

Well, thank you.

She's taking tea with Mabel.

Ah, Mrs Todd. And her dull narcissism.

You mistake confidence for narcissism,

and womanly reticence for dullness.

Whatever else can be said of Mrs Todd,

no one could ever accuse her

of reticence.

Or does one only

require reticence in a wife?

- My wife is perfectly happy.

- Yes, of course.

I'm sure she sees infidelity,

when accompanied by Schubert,

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