The Legend of Lizzie Borden Page #3

It's always been harder for you,

hasn't it?

Why do things need to be

so cruel with me, Em?

Cruel?

District Attorney Knowlton...

The newspapers...

They call me a sphinx of coldness.

Why do they want

to hurt me like that?

Poor Lizzie...

I don't think they mean to.

It's just that you're... Special.

And special people have always

been misunderstood. You know that.

Oh, Em.

I don't want to be special!

I know, Lizzie. I know.

... And good night,

may thy slumber bedight...

It's perfect!

I knew you wanted something special.

You got the whole ensemble?

Read it!

Lizzie, we must have gone over this

a hundred times!

Then we'll go over it

the hundred and oneth.

Well, there's your new hat,

the navy blue bangling dress...

No, we said the black, remember?

The one with the legging button sleeves.

Yes, I'm sorry, I forgot.

And your little broach...

The one for posies. It's in the top

back drawer of my chiffonier.

Oh, and don't forget my six buttoned

black kick gloves. I want them.

Mr. Julian Ralph, of the New York Sun,

he'll be here for an interview

Oh, gracious! I completely forgot!

Give me a moment, will you?

You don't mind, do you, Em?

I understand your father's estate

came to more than a quarter million dollars.

Only slightly.

All these months of legal expenses

are fast eating it away.

Now, the point is one can't help wondering

why a family of the Borden means

couldn't enjoy even

the simplest convenience of a bathroom.

I'm sure your father could afford

more than just a basement letrine.

But he wanted to give us all bathrooms,

we begged him not to.

You see, we had intented to move very shortly

to a more fashionable location on the hill.

It seemed a...

an expensive extravagance

for such temporary conveniences.

My father was a kind and

considerate man, Mr. Ralph.

Such stories about him

are a vicious slander.

You're a most unusual woman, miss Borden,

difficult to penetrate.

What is it like, for a lady of your

station, of your sensibilities,

to be here in prison?

The... um... The hardest thing for me

to stand is the night,

when there is no light.

They will not even allow me

a candle to read by.

To sit here all the evenings

in the dark is very hard.

There is one thing that hurts me very much.

They say I don't show any grief.

Certainly, I don't in public.

I never did reveal my feelings

and I cannot change my nature now.

They say I don't cry.

They should see me when I'm alone.

Yet district Attorney Knowlton

urges us to believe

that miss Borden is capable

of any cold blooded deed,

even the murder of her father

and his wife.

Mr. Knowlton goes so far as to call her

a sphinx of coldness,

not even moved to wear mourning

out of respect.

But Miss Borden explains it so simply,

so honestly.

"There was not a moment when I could think

of such things as hat or dress.

Something was talking to me all the time

about the murders

and asking me questions."

And here's the part that really galls.

"If people would only do me justice,

that is all I ask.

But it seems as if every word

I utter is distorted

and such a false construction placed on it

that I am bewildered.

There was not a trace of anger in her tone,

simply a pitiful expression."

Rubbish! Cheap feminist sentimentality!

I told you public sentiment

would be on her side.

Lizzie Borden is a Sunday school teacher,

Hosea, a devoted worker

a temperance Christian aid

and foreign missioner.

She is held in high esteem in this

community. Very high esteem.

Mr. Mayor, that woman is a murderess.

I hope you can prove that, Hosea.

Well, better be on our way.

Can't miss the opening session.

- Coming, Mrs. Knowles? - I'll be

along shortly, your honor. You two go ahead.

- It's not too late to pull out, Hosea.

- No, sir.

Every time I see this case

being tried in the press like this

I'm more determined than ever

to see miss Lizzie Borden

tried and convicted in the courts.

Well? Who are they?

Oh, Lizzie... The crowds...

You cannot imagine...

I said the six button black gloves.

- Oh, but... Oh, dear, I'm sorry, in my haste...

- How can you be so witless?

- Well, I'll go back and fetch them.

- Never mind, never mind, there isn't time.

Sometimes I think you actually want

to see me hanged.

That's a very cruel thing to say, Lizzie.

Oh, Em, I'm sorry.

It's time. They'll not wait any longer.

- What a floor!

- I suppose you can't blame 'em.

We haven't had a good witch hunt

in this state since Salem!

Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye!

All rise!

All persons having anything to do

before the honourable justices

Basin, Bludgeton, jury or the

superior court for criminal business

now sitting at Bristol, draw near.

Give your attention and you shall be heard.

God save the commonwealth

of Massachusetts.

Be seated.

Now, tell us, miss Sullivan, did you ever

have any trouble there in the Borden family?

No, sir.

Pleasant place to live?

Yes, sir, I liked it

And, for all you know,

they liked you.

I suppose so.

Well, you never saw anything out of the way?

No, sir.

Never saw any conflict in the family?

No, sir.

Never saw anything that leads to

any quarreling or anything of that kind?

No, sir.

Then Maggie is lying!

I swear to you, father:

I did not take the money from your desk.

That is God's truth!

What does she know about the truth?

Always making things up, imagining things!

Lizzie, you know I have protected you,

I have excused you, I have paid your fines,

I've prayed for your soul,

I've endured it, the shame and

humiliation, as a father and a Christian.

But this is the limit, when you

steal from your own father.

If I did, and I most certaily did not,

would it be any wonder?

Well, you talk of shame.

What of mine when I'm forced to walk down

the street year after year in the same old dresses?

Listen to her! Spoiled rotten she is!

The way we live!

Well, we can't even entertain properly.

Entertain, indeed!

Who would you invite in this house?

Lord, how I hate this house!

No baths, no modern conveniences...

Did you know that we are

laughing stocks, father?

It's true.

Behind your back, people

snigger and call you skinflint.

That will be enough!

I don't understand you, girl.

You and I were always so close.

Specially close.

Yes, father.

Specially.

Then... Then why do you

behave like this?

I'm suffocating. Father, look at me,

I'm 32 and practically a prisoner

in this ugly old house.

But you're perfectly free

to come and go as you like!

And how far would I get on the... On the paltry

$200 allowance you allow me each year?

Emma seems to manage.

I notice that didn't keep her from going

on the grand tour of Europe two summers ago.

Yes.

And you'll never get over that,

will you, Mrs. Borden?

Well, that money was mine.

Every penny, mine.

If you chose to squander

your mother's inheritance,

you'd have no one to blame but yourself.

- Half of Emma's, to boot!

- Don't forget that!

I'm sure you won't let him!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes