The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie Page #8

anything but reality!

Trying to useJenny and poor old Lowther,

making him play house.

I do not use Mr. Lowther.

It is I who allow myself to be used.

I give him every attention.

I cook for him.

You feed him instead of loving him.

Isn't that it?

You know nothing about what there is

of love between Gordon and me!

Oh, my God! All those boring hours

in bed with old Lowther...

puffing bravely away...

Good. That's more like it.

That was direct.

That's the first actual contact

between us in three years.

Get out! Get out!

Get out of my class! My girls.

Little girls, this is Mr. Lloyd,

the art master.

When you are 14,

if he is still at Marcia Blaine...

I will then hand you over to him,

and you will be fortunate enough...

to receive

his artistic guidance.

- Good-bye, girls.

- Good-bye, Mr. Lloyd.

See you

in three years.

Good-bye,

Miss Brodie.

I also hope

I shall see you.

For the rest

of the afternoon...

I have decided we will

not do more history.

Rather, I will show you some more slides...

of my last holidays

in Italy.

Monitors,

the blinds, please.

Clara, will you

pull down the screen?

I also spent

two weeks in Egypt...

where people do not believe

in God, but in Allah.

Kathryn, will you

switch on the light, please?

The bottom,

left-hand side.

I have brought you these slides

at my own expense.

The girls at the back

may sit up on their desks.

Rome.

This is a large formation

of II Duce's fascisti.

They are following him

in noble destiny.

I, myself,

mingled with such a crowd.

I wore my silk dress

with red poppies...

which is right

for my coloring.

Benito Mussolini.

II Duce.

Italy's leader supreme.

A Roman worthy of his heritage.

The greatest Roman of them all.

The Colosseum...

where Christian slaves

were thrown to the lions...

and gladiators

fought to the death.

"Hail, Caesar.

Those who are about to die salute thee".

Florence.

The David

of Michelangelo.

That is

the original David.

He's in the Galleria

dell'Accademia di Belle Arti.

There's a copy

in the Piazza della Signoria...

next to

the Palazzo Vecchio.

He's there for any passer-by

to gaze upon and be uplifted.

He's at once the glory of the past

and the inspiration of the future.

David,

the young warrior.

This is a picture

of the Ponte Vecchio...

"The old bridge"

Ponte Vecchio.

There's a famous painting

of Dante meeting Beatrice...

It is pronounced

"Beatrichi" in Italian...

which makes it

very beautiful...

Meeting Beatrice

on the Ponte Vecchio.

He fell in love with her

at that moment.

He was a man in his middle years.

She was 14. That can happen.

A mature man can find love

in a young girl, a very young girl.

Find the spring...

the essence

of all old loves.

It is not unlikely that

we shall never know...

that Beatrice

reminded Dante sharply...

in that moment

when he first saw her...

on the Ponte Vecchio...

of an old love...

a lost love,

a sublime love...

and he was seized

with such a longing...

such longing...

That picture

was painted by Rossetti.

Who was

Dante Gabriel Rossetti?

Jenny, who was

Dante Gabriel Rossetti?

Clara.

A painter, Miss Brodie.

What... What was that you said?

A painter.

Yes. Yes, a painter.

Oh, yes.

A paint...

A painter.

Where you're mistaken is in supposing

that Jean Brodie is unique.

There's an army of these ladies

in Edinburgh.

It's simply that they do not

attempt to teach in schools...

of the traditional character

of Marcia Blaine.

She is

a magnificent specimen.

She's utterly

ridiculous.

There's no contradiction in being

both ridiculous and magnificent.

Your young mind will have to

stretch a bit to grasp that.

I think my young mind

is stretched astonishingly...

to be able to discuss

at 17... at 17...

the enduring passion

of my lover for another woman.

It is not only

astonishing, Sandy...

it is unnatural.

You should be passionate...

and involved...

and shortsighted.

- I'm tired.

- Take a rest, then.

I'll make some tea.

Her and her passions,

her fascisti.

You should see her skulking around

the third formers, trying to raise funds for Franco.

Franco? Oh, my God.

Oh, yes.

We've gone very Spanish this term...

what with Mary McGregor's

brother and all.

What's Mary McGregor's

miserable brother got to do with Franco?

Haven't you heard?

He's run off to Spain to fight.

Miss Brodie's

beside herself with joy.

Jean knows nothing of politics

or politicians.

She simply invests all leaders

with her own romantic vision.

Why isn't there ever

anything to eat in this place?

You know, it occurred to me

that the Brodie set...

has been Miss Brodie's faithful fascisti,

marching along...

and I suddenly thought

of her disapproval of the Girl Guides.

Why, it's simply jealousy.

The Guides are a rival fascisti...

and she

cannot bear it.

How I wish

I'd joined the Brownies.

What a spiteful

child it is.

You're too irritable

for a girl of your age.

My age does bother you,

doesn't it?

How much longer are you going to be

tempted by this firm, young flesh?

Until you're 18

and over the hill.

Hey, Teddy,

take me dancing.

- Certainly not.

- What a coward.

A man with a wife and six children

plus a schoolgirl for a mistress...

can be called any number of rude names,

but "coward" is not one of them.

So sweet,

the flesh of the neck.

If only it could be

bottled and sold across the counter.

I really shouldn't feed

your depraved appetite.

Hey, Teddy. Teddy, listen.

When can I look at my painting?

I'm very bored with not being allowed

to see my own portrait.

When I've finished it,

and I shall never finish it.

We shall go on like this

until one or both of us is dead.

Now. I want to see myself

mirrored in your eyes.

- I need a vision of myself.

- No, Sandy. No.

I haven't

finished it yet.

- I'm not pleased with it yet.

- Oh, you.

You'll never

be pleased.

Sandy!

I cannot

help myself, Sandy.

Believe me, it has nothing to do

with what I feel for you.

Even the skin tones

are hers.

It's not even my skin.

And I thought...

I really thought that you...

Well, you know,

desired me.

Desired me.

I... I do.

It might just as well

have been Jenny after all.

It would have been

the same with anyone.

Sandy,

listen to me.

Love is the most irrational thing

on God's Earth.

Do you think I choose

to love Jean Brodie?

If I could choose,

I would love my wife or you.

You are the most

remarkable girl I've ever known.

You are marvelous

and astonishing and desirable.

Why would I not choose to love you,

if I could choose?

Please don't think less

of yourself because I am...

bewitched.

Very well.

I shan't.

- Believe what I'm telling you.

- Oh, I believe you, Teddy.

I even believe that

you are bewitched.

I'm not sure about God, but I am now

quite sure about witches.

Will you be back

tomorrow?

No, I won't be back.

That really would be

a waste of time, wouldn't it?

Good night, Teddy.

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