Carrington Page #2

You mustn't deny us our few pleasures.

We've not much else

to look forward to, except old age.

Dear God, can you imagine it?

The rain, the loneliness, the regret.

- No, I can't imagine it.

- You wait till it's staring you in the face.

How old are you, anyway?

I'm 36 next birthday.

Oh, Ottoline's invited me

up to Garsington next weekend.

- Me too.

- Oh. I'll go if you'll go.

Last time I was there,

everyone was either deaf or French.

(door opens)

Well, how is the campaign proceeding?

- Campaign?

- The Carrington matter.

I take it you're still working on her.

Really, Ottoline, must you

put things quite so baldly?

I prefer to think of myself

as an educator, rather than as a...

What?

- As a pimp.

- Oh, now don't be silly.

You know as well as I do

it's a sickness with Carrington.

A girl of that age still a virgin.

It's absurd.

I was still a virgin at her age.

But that's my whole point.

Don't you see? So was l.

Is there to be no progress?

Now I must have a serious talk

with you before Mark arrives.

I know how difficult it is, my dear,

to reconcile puritanism

with a love of beauty.

It's a consideration that's never far

from my thoughts when I'm in Burnley.

I mean, take this garden, for example.

Surely it wouldn't be right to plant

nothing but cabbages and cauliflowers.

Or do you think it's wanton of us to love

the bastard tulip or the Turk's-head lily?

Of course not. No.

One can't have it all ways.

Remember that.

And I firmly believe it's high time

you took the bull by the horns.

We can't always live under glass,

like a cucumber.

We have to engage with life.

Ah, there you are, Carrington.

I was hoping to find an opportunity to

talk to you in private before Mark's arrival.

(Carrington) Then Pipsey harangued me

for half an hour on the perils of virginity.

He got all breathy and the hairs

in his nostrils became horribly agitated.

Finally, he said it was someone like me

had driven his brother Hugh to suicide.

Ah, semen.

What is it about that

ridiculous white secretion

that pulls down the corners

of an Englishman's mouth?

You see, I'm not against it in theory.

It's just the thought of Mark, somehow.

Well, I can't, of course,

agree with you, but... there we are.

- Lytton.

- Hm?

I love being with you.

You're so cold and wise.

These last few months, whenever

I know I'll see you, I get so excited inside.

If you... were to kiss me again,

I don't think I'd mind at all.

You know, it's a strange thing,

but I'd rather like to.

Your skin is like ivory.

That day I came in - you remember

- to cut your beard off... I knew then.

I don't think this is

what Mark had in mind.

- He's not to know.

- Still, I can't help feeling rather shifty.

What I knew was

that I was in love with you.

I heard from the military doctors' board

this morning.

They've rejected me.

"Medically unfit for any kind of service."

But, Lytton, that's wonderful.

Wonderful for me.

(# harmonium)

Thousands of boys are dying

every day to preserve this.

- Did you know?

- Yes.

God damn, blast, confound

and f*** the upper classes.

Let's see if we can't

avoid all this, shall we?

Go and read some Rimbaud.

You're the lady,

I'm the Jew-boy from the East End.

- That's it, isn't it?

- Of course not.

- Don't know why you don't admit it.

- Because it's not true!

You don't understand. I need my freedom.

Freedom? How can you have that when

you're frightened to use your own body?

You must have patience.

What do you mean, patience?

It is killing me, all this.

It is killing me.

I'm sorry.

Think how much your body's deteriorated

in the past four years.

All that time, just wasted.

- Keats's letters...

- Don't talk to me about Keats's letters!

What the hell use is Keats to me?!

(Lytton) I have a suggestion.

- What?

- I'm planning a holiday in Wales.

Why don't I take her with me?

You see, I've been teaching her French.

We're about to get on to the French poets.

I've a feeling they may prove decisive.

I've come to the sad conclusion there's

no such thing as a beautiful Welsh boy.

At any rate, I've seen nothing

but the most unparalleled frumps.

Wouldn't it be lovely to live

in the country? I'm sick of towns.

Yes.

Perhaps we should set up house together.

Do you really mean that?

Well, yes, I did. Yes.

No, I don't think so.

Probably just as well.

Anyway, I couldn't afford it.

I see.

I'm sorry. I tend to be

rather impulsive in these matters.

Like the time I asked

Virginia Woolf to marry me.

- She turned you down?

- No. No, she accepted.

It was ghastly.

And if I'd accepted, I suppose

that would have been ghastly.

No. I don't think it would.

What's that you're taking?

Doctor Gregory's rhubarb pills.

I find them sovereign.

One bed is warmer than two.

Anything you like, Lytton.

Anything.

Well... It's all very well...

It doesn't matter.

Really, it doesn't.

Mark's borrowed Gilbert Cannan's

place at Cholesbury.

He wants me to spend

a few days with him.

Then you must go.

I'm not sure I want to.

Then you mustn't go.

Can't you see, Lytton,

I'm asking you to help me?

My dear, as we both know,

I'm supposed to be bringing you together.

But in these matters, above all,

you must make your own decisions.

- Ready?

- (Carrington) It's too big, Mark.

I can't get it in.

I've tried and tried, but I can't.

Don't come in!

(Dora cries out)

(# Schubert's String Quintet in C)

(whispers) Lytton.

Yes?

What you said about us

living together in the country...

Yes?

Did you really mean it?

Yes.

Yes, but a pound a week -

I don't see how I can manage it.

Our own Roman bath, look.

Most hygienic.

And this will be your room.

- An electric light in every room, look.

- Oh, yes. That is a blessing.

Now, don't worry. By the time I've

finished with it, you won't recognise it.

Are you... going to live with him?

No. I just felt I had to tell him

I was in love with him.

What did he say?

He said he was sorry.

Is that all?

Well, it's not his fault.

What else could he say?

Good God.

Er...

I never want to see you again.

So, would you mind

if I left you directly after dinner?

- No.

- No?

I've always said life

was a crooked business.

After all these years, you fall in love

with a man like Strachey, twice your age.

I thought I'd better tell Mark,

as it was so difficult going on.

- (Lytton) Tell him what?

- That it couldn't go on.

So I told him. I told him.

That I was in love with you.

Aren't you being rather romantic?

Are you certain?

There's nothing romantic about it.

What did Mark say?

He was terribly upset.

Oh, it's all too incongruous.

I'm so old and diseased.

I mean, I wish I was more able.

It doesn't matter.

What ought we to do about the physical?

- I don't mind about that.

- Ah, but you should.

All this is quite deliberate, you know.

I wish I was rich.

- Then I could keep you as my mistress.

- What difference would that make?

Will you stay?

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