Far from the Madding Crowd Page #18

GABRIEL:

Have you seen Mrs Troy?

LIDDY:

(disappointed)

I think she may have left.

155 EXT. BOLDWOOD’S MANSION - NIGHT 155

TROY and BATHSHEBA face to face, TROY a little drunk now,

dishevelled, unshaven.

BATHSHEBA:

Frank.

TROY:

Black suits you. A little

premature, I’m afraid.

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BATHSHEBA:

I knew it, I knew you were alive, I

felt it.

TROY:

And here I am. Some fishermen

pulled me from the sea. Then I

discovered I was dead, and found

that I preferred it, for a while

anyway.

BATHSHEBA:

So why have you come back, Frank?

TROY:

The strangest thing. I found I

missed you. What’s the matter? You

don’t seem very pleased to see me.

No kiss after all this time?

BATHSHEBA:

You said that I was dead to you.

TROY:

Did I? Well, then - honesty at all

times. I find myself in need of

money. I gave up my profession for

you, it seems harsh that you should

have a house and farm while I’m

living hand to mouth.

BATHSHEBA:

There is no money

TROY:

Then we’ll sell the farm.

BATHSHEBA stands numb, devastated - finally defeated.

Near the house a few FIGURES can be seen. GUESTS from the

party, SPECTATORS, incredulous at the sight.

TROY (CONT’D)

Come my love, no tears. Come home

with me. We’ll talk like we used

to.

(BATHSHEBA doesn’t move)

Did you hear what I said? Come.

(No reply)

I’M YOUR HUSBAND AND YOU’LL OBEY

ME, DAMNIT!

Furious, he reaches for her hand and grabs it -

He sees the engagement ring glittering there. A realisation,

the truth dawning.

TROY smiles, and -

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An EXPLOSION. A gunshot. The force of the blast is immense,

sending TROY sprawling across the lawn, the full force of a

shotgun blast directed straight into his chest.

BOLDWOOD stands, gun in hand. BATHSHEBA’s face, her dress,

are sprayed with blood. She starts to shake. OTHER GUESTS

come running

BOLDWOOD:

I won’t be robbed again. Not again.

He gives the gun to GABRIEL. Then, with calm simplicity, he

approaches BATHSHEBA, takes her hand, kisses it -

Then BOLDWOOD walks away.

FADE TO BLACK.

156 INT. GREAT HALL, BOLDWOOD’S MANSION - DAY 156

GABRIEL walks through the great hall, empty now. The

Christmas tree stands forlorn and wilted.

157 INT. BEDROOM, BOLDWOOD’S MANSION - DAY 157

GABRIEL pulls open the wardrobe. Dresses in every colour of

the rainbow, silks and satins, poplins and serges, all ready

for his beloved fiancee...

Stitched into a pair of white calf-skin gloves, a label bears

the name -

‘Bathsheba Boldwood.’

158 INT. CASTERBRIDGE GAOL - DAY 158

Perfectly calm, BOLDWOOD sits erect in his cell, hands in

lap. Strangely peaceful and still at last.

159 EXT. CHURCHYARD, WEATHERBURY 159

A grey January day, and rain falls on TROY’s funeral. His

friend and comrade-in-arms SERGEANT DOGGETT and a small

scattering of military men represent his former regiment.

BATHSHEBA stands a little way off, dressed in black, in

mourning for the second time.

The inscription on the gravestone now reads

Erected by Francis Troy. In loving memory of Fanny Robbin and

Child. Died October 9th.

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In the same grave lies the aforesaid Francis Troy, Who Died

December 24th.

160 INT. BEDROOM, BOLDWOOD’S MANSION - DAY 160

GABRIEL opens a drawer. Jewellery; diamonds, pearls, rubies,

heavy gold bracelets.

BATHSHEBA (O.S.)

Let me see.

REVEAL BATHSHEBA, in mourning, as she steps forward gingerly,

and takes in the jewellery.

She takes something from her pocket. The engagement ring that

BOLDWOOD gave her.

GABRIEL:

If it’s any consolation, his life

will be spared. A crime of passion.

BATHSHEBA:

Because of me.

GABRIEL:

You did the right thing in the end.

BATHSHEBA puts the engagement ring back in amongst the other

jewels.

GABRIEL pushes the drawer closed.

161 EXT. FIELDS, EVERDENE FARM - DAY 161

Summer again. Another harvest. The fields are full of WORKERS

scything the corn - a fine harvest, a flourishing business.

Still in mourning black, BATHSHEBA watches, and allows

herself a smile of satisfaction.

Music continues

162 EXT. CHURCHYARD, WEATHERBURY - DAY 162

The choir is practicing in the church nearby as BATHSHEBA

tends her husband’s grave.

She is still in mourning, but some of the colour has returned

to her face now; not quite the firebrand of the last year,

but not so drawn and haunted.

She becomes aware of a figure behind her; GABRIEL.

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GABRIEL:

I’m sorry, I startled you.

BATHSHEBA:

I wanted to tend their grave. I’ve

not been here for so long.

(the church)

Are you going in?

GABRIEL:

Rehearsals. I sing bass in the

choir.

BATHSHEBA:

Yes, I’ve heard you.

GABRIEL:

Then I apologise.

(she smiles)

I’d been hoping for a chance to

talk to you. We’ve not spoken as

much as I’d have liked

BATHSHEBA:

No -

GABRIEL:

And I wanted an opportunity to

say...well, the fact is I’m leaving

England.

BATHSHEBA:

Leaving?

GABRIEL:

To go to America. I’ve a mind to

try California, and there’s a boat

leaving Bristol. Four day’s time.

I’ll be on it.

(She’s struggling to take

this all in. )

I understand that I should give you

notice.

BATHSHEBA:

No, you must go when you want.

GABRIEL:

Then I’ll leave first thing in the

morning. No fuss. I think that’s

best.

And BATHSHEBA stands, shell-shocked in the graveyard as

GABRIEL walks away.

The choir sings. She is struggling to take this all in.

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163

INT. BEDROOM, EVERDENE FARM - DAWN 163

BATHSHEBA sits on the edge of the bed. She hasn’t slept a

wink.

She stands, opens the window, looks out at her land.

Her wardrobe. Her dress of mourning black.

164

INT. GREAT HALL, EVERDENE FARM - DAY 164

No longer dressed in black, BATHSHEBA sits at the table,

attempting to sort through the accounts.

LIDDY and OLD GEORGE are there too, LIDDY, tearful, consoling

the dog, sniffing, inconsolable at the news.

BATHSHEBA:

Liddy, that’s enough.

LIDDY:

Sorry, Miss.

BATHSHEBA returns to the papers before her. Staring.

Unseeing.

Suddenly she pushes her chair back, walks from the room.

165

EXT. FARMYARD, EVERDENE FARM - DAY 165

BATHSHEBA mounts her horse, determined, a decision made.

166

EXT. FIELDS, EVERDENE FARM - DAY 166

BATHSHEBA rides and rides, just as we first saw her. Cresting

a hill, she searches the western road ahead, searching for

GABRIEL.

166A

EXT. COUNTRY LANE - DAY 166A

The spot where she found him before, but no sign of him this

time. Is she too late? She urges the horse on -

166B

EXT. COUNTRY LANE - DAY 166B

She comes to a halt. Losing hope now. Then - a figure, far

off. It can only be GABRIEL. She rides on -

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167 EXT. COUNTRY LANE - DAY 167

GABRIEL walks on, his possessions on his back. The sun is

setting now, but he doesn’t look back, not even when he hears

the sound of horses hooves behind him.

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