Desperate Romantics

Congratulations, John. You've changed everything.

You've enhanced your reputation and that of the brotherhood.

We are sweethearts, are we not?

I thought it was because you were in love with her... Fred!

Of course I'm in love with her.

So you are secretly engaged?

So secretly engaged that only one of you knows that you are engaged.

You don't understand their world, Charlotte.

I want to buy you manners. Why would you do that? So that we might step out together.

Am I a patron? If you wish it. Of course I wish it.

John, do you think my wife would make a good model?

Sir, it isn't a job for a respectable woman. No, you're right.

It isn't. I do hope you can grow as fond of Johnny Millais as I have done.

Why do you say such things?

If you could kindly imagine that you are a loyal Highland wife,

who has secured the release of her Jacobite husband.

And how has she secured that release?

This loyal Highland wife?

Well, I imagine by... persuasion of some sort or other.

Perhaps she has traded her virtue for her husband's release.

Perhaps she has, that, that would certainly be possible.

Does that make her a good woman or a bad woman in your eyes? Well, she has sacrificed her virtue for love.

In my eyes, that is the noblest sacrifice any woman can make.

Do you think her husband knows, or has guessed?

I hadn't really thought about that.

Perhaps he doesn't care. I can't imagine such a thing.

Perhaps he is too full of his own suffering to have time to think of hers.

That does happen, doesn't it, between man and wife?

Mrs Ruskin...

You seem both unhappy and agitated.

Do I really? Please.

I think you should sit down and rest a while.

Shall we call for a pot of camomile tea?

I find it settles my nerves when I get all fluttery and bird-like.

HE GRUNTS

I'm finding it hard to draw under such damned pressure.

It's every drawback, every false beginning,

reminds me how far behind I have fallen.

Surely it's not a competition? Is it not?

Millais has got Ruskin.

Hunt has sold his painting.

Copied from my idea. But surely there are other ideas.

Agh!

I-I was thinking,

perhaps of Dante and Beatrice, but what's the point?

I have no money for paint. Or canvas, or, or... food.

If you allow me to model for just one painting for Hunt again,

I could pay for all that. I will not have you posing for others.

And I will come to you each evening

and you can begin your preliminary sketches. No, I will not have it.

I cannot stand it. So your petty jealousy

is of greater weight than your desire to paint a masterpiece! My masterpiece?

Well, that does have a certain ring to it, I suppose.

As Rossetti struggles with his muse I struggle to keep at bay

the poisonous image of Lizzie lying in his arms.

Hunt, our... King of Pain, finds himself trapped between the demands of Annie and the demands of God.

Millais, however, remains blissfully unaware of mental and emotional struggle.

I thought it most unusual when Mr Ruskin suggested you modelled for me.

If I had thought for one moment you were in any way unhappy with the arrangement... The arrangement?

It's not for everyone, standing there dressed as a peasant woman, completely still

while some dunderhead stares and paints and stares and paints.

You really don't know why you're here, do you?

I'm here to paint you.

Am I not?

When Hunt arrives let me do the talking.

He can afford whatever we ask, he sold his painting.

Miss Siddal, Mr Rossetti.

How's the work progressing?

Still painting juvenile daubs of no artistic merit?

Are you still hanging them? Miss Siddal, when will you be sitting for John Millais again?

She won't. Miss Siddal will be modelling for my masterpiece.

Oh, well.

At least you have millinery to fall back on.

Not here! Not here!

It's a Landseer, not a crate of monkeys! More's the pity.

Gabriel.

Lizzie?

Hello.

I am looking for Christ's hair.

Lizzie is reluctant tomodel for a painting that just features her hair.

A shilling an hour, shall we say? Two shillings and six pence at the very least. I am Ophelia.

I can walk into any studio and demand double that! Two shillings.

With a guarantee of at least one week's work.

I thought the rules of the Brotherhood demanded that we shared what was ours.

Hmm, that was before I realised how little I'd have to share.

Still...

I'm sure you'll find Christ's hair in the Holy Land. Don't forget to write.

Very well! Two and six it is.

Thank you.

Miss Miller.

Hunt.

What's this about the bleeding Holy Land, then, eh?

Annie!

Listen!

Sometimes things happen to a man which convince him that God

is telling him to do penance.

Now it's my intention to follow up on The Awakening Conscience,

exploring more overtly the religious themes.

There's no shortage of religious themes right here in this room!

I need to travel to the Holy Land to do this. For how long? Six months or so.

Six months! You engender in me a constant state of sexual arousal.

Don't try and sweet talk your way out of it. I am going to paint.

It is my intention to tether a goat

in the Desert and to paint it as a symbol of Christ's sacrifice.

A goat!

You are leaving me for a goat!

What's wrong with an English goat?! It's not the goat. It's the light, it's the...

it's the thought of Christ's presence!

I see. You do?

Oh.

Annie! No...

You don't mean that. I wish I did.

You chose a goat over me.

Fine! Go to the Holy Land!

But don't you ever think you'll taste my fruits again!

GROANS AND GASPS

So. How are things proceeding, Johnny?

She has a difficult head.

Indeed she does, Johnny, in every sense.

But not without its rewards.

This is to tide you over

until I am in a position to... sell your painting.

I don't know what to say.

I just hope that the three of us,

you, myself and Mrs Ruskin

will be very happy together.

Indeed, sir, so do I. So take it.

As a sign of my affection and my gratitude

and... and indeed, Effie's future gratitude.

Her future gratitude?

Her future gratitude.

Oh, and by the way, I'm planning to nominate you as an Associate of the Academy.

An Associate of the Academy?!

An Associate?!

Her future gratitude?!

But I can't help thinking that I am expected to do something other than painting to repay Ruskin's loyalty.

How long before you're a full member?

I don't know. And Effie Ruskin said you didn't know why you were there? I didn't.

Well, I did. But I don't now.

Will somebody please tell me what is happening in my life?

Effie Ruskin gives off the air of a dissatisfied woman.

But John Ruskin gives off the air of a man who is interested in mounting paintings and little else.

You are young, Johnny, good-looking,

talented and in his debt.

What?

You don't think that John Ruskin is inviting you to seduce his wife?

This is one of Rossetti's practical jokes, isn't it, Maniac? Isn't it?

Lust has finally taken agrip of Gabriel's mind so he canthink of nothing else.

Two gins, please.

Dear Fred,

how long before we can be friends again?

How long does a broken heart take to mend?

I know you were sweet on Lizzie.

Yet you chose to pursue her. It was almost as if my declaring my love for her spurred you on.

And so it did. You admit it, then?

I pursued Lizzie in order to protect you. Protect me?

Lizzie is the kind of person that would destroy a less experienced man.

She has an intensity that would burn you up.

Burn?

She seems such a gentle soul.

You will learn, as you grow wise in the ways of women, dear Fred,

that it is the gentle souls who will lure you to your ruin.

Oh, well,

perhaps I will take that drink after all.

Hey, that's the spirit!

Cheers.

Mr Dickens. I hear great things are going on behind Mr Ruskin's door, Mr Millais. What?

I can't think what you mean.

Another masterpiece, I hear.

Well, one can only hope.

Are you quite all right, Mr Millais? You seem rather agitated. The other day,

you said I had no idea why I was here.

Perhaps you would care to explain what you meant by that.

When I was living in Venice with John,

I was left to myself,

day after day.

With John's encouragement I attended balls and parties and dances,

always alone.

But surely that would have brought you admirers.

Only two or three. No, four.

Four?!

Did Mr Ruskin not object? I am not so sure Mr Ruskin

did not put them in my path.

I am equally certain that cannot possibly be the case.

Look at you and I.

Left alone.

A married woman and a single man.

Together, every day for weeks to come. Why do you think he has allowed that?

So that I can better get on with painting your portrait?

Of course. Of course. I'm, I'm sure you are right.

Erm, if I may.

Always best to protect your reputation by pretending that which is, is not.

I simply do not believe

that a man of Mr Ruskin's towering character would ever contemplate what you are suggesting.

What if I were to tell youthat Mr Ruskin is a giant as an author,

but a poor, weak creature in everything else.

I... I don't know what has got into you, Effie.

But you have rendered me into a terrible fug that can only be resolved if I leave immediately!

I can't stay and hear you attack Mr Ruskin in this way.

He is my friend and my patron, and he is your husband! How can you say such things?!