The Tomb of Ligeia

You cannot bury her in consecrated ground.

- She was not Christian. - This is my ground.

- It is the Lord's ground. - Then let the Lord refuse her.

She will not rest with Christian dead.

She will not rest because she is not dead.

To me.

And she will not die because she willed not to die.

Is her will stronger than the Lord's?

These are her words.

"Man need not kneel before the angels.

Nor lie in death forever,

but for the weakness of his feeble will.

- Blasphemy. - Benediction.

Now hear mine. She desecrates the earth in which she lies.

And her will rots with her bones.

Both are as damned and dead as the devil's soul.

A nervous contraction.

Nothing more.

Nothing more.

So silent now?

Well, why don't you speak?

Or you? Or you?

Pray, speak.

Or has the cat got your tongues?

You must have met in hell.

- The fox may go to ground, my lord. - Damn the fox! Where's my daughter?

Hey I say, where's my daughter?

Rowena!

- Rowena! - Hello, Christopher.

Come on, boy.

Rowena, the fox has...

Don't bother the fox. I found something far more intriguing.

Ligeia...

Now puss...

- What do you want? - I heard her scream.

She was thrown by her mount. I thought it unwise for her to move immediately.

In preventing it, I seem to have frightened her.

Yes, quite.

I thought the abbey was deserted.

- It is... - Yes, but...

Save for myself, a servant and...

- Is she all right? - Yes, quite all right, Christopher.

Verden?

Good Lord!

I never would have...

Those glasses...

The result of a rather morbid reaction to sunlight.

But I thought that... that not hearing from you, I...

I mean, after the funeral...

Perhaps you had better fetch the lady's horse.

Yes. Yes, of course.

Rowena... don't be frightened.

He's an old friend.

Lady Rowena Trevanion of Tromane. May I present Mr. Verden Fell.

How do you do?

How do you do?

Terribly sorry to have trampled these lovely asphodels.

They're so bright.

The flowers of death.

How very appropriate.

Yes...

Perhaps you'd better take her in while I fetch her father.

That won't be necessary.

I'm afraid it will.

You aren't blind, are you?

No, no I live at night. My vision is painfully acute.

Oh, no! No! Please! Please, that light!

- I'm sorry. I only thought... - No.

No, please.

I'm sorry.

Kenrick!

Sherry and some linen bandages.

The same cat?

Is it broken?

It doesn't appear to be, but it needs binding, however.

Ma'am.

Thank you.

You do that rather well. Where did you learn?

I see.

Do you suppose I could make you smile? Or do you ever laugh, Mr. Fell?

Only at myself.

- I see. - Do you? You keep saying, "I see."

But I think your vision is even more limited than mine.

Rowena!

- Rowena! - Here, Father.

- Are you all right? - Lord Trevanion, may I present...

Oh, doctor here already? Splendid.

- No father. Mr. Verden... - Splendid, now are you sure you're all right?

- Yes father. - Good. Well, I want to show you this.

Damnedest fox you ever saw. Must be a freak.

The markings are so damn queer. I've never seen anything like it.

Oh, Father, please.

Lord Trevanion, Mr. Fell...

Fell? Oh of course, the doctor. Terribly rude of me.

Father he is not...

Here, doctor, have a look at this fox. What do you think of it, eh?

Of course, I suppose foxes aren't much in your line.

It belongs to the species vulpas pallida.

Peculiar to upper Egypt in the Nubian Desert.

In Egyptian art, it is found at the feet of Ashtophet,

goddess of ill-omened marriages... as her pet.

Hmm... Really?

Well I mean if it belongs in Egypt, what's it doing here?

It was once kept here by the Lady Ligeia.

As a pet? A fox?

Who on earth would do a thing like that?

My wife.

I think we ought to be going now. Christopher, help me on with my boot.

- Are...? - I'm fine now, Father.

Have I said something?

- Of course not! - It's all right, Father.

- Hey, the fox. - In the wicker, my lord.

- No, it's not! - I beg your pardon, my lord?

I said it's not.

Well, where could it...? I mean, how could it...?

Well, perhaps you can tell me.

- Through here. - But the fox was dead.

The cat was not.

It appears that the cat has made off with the fox.

But is that possible? I mean...

Were it not possible, the fox would still be here.

I trust that your ankle will give you no further trouble.

I'm afraid this is a bit awkward.

Do you mind if I send your fee by messenger, Doctor?

That won't be necessary.

Thank you.

Goodbye, then.

Well?

Has Ligeia's death changed him greatly?

He's certainly changed, but I never knew her.

- Was he always so morose? - A bit mysterious, perhaps.

Do you like him?

I don't think so, but what has that to do with it?

To do with what?

Who one is drawn to, who one loves, even who one marries.

- Marry? Marry who? - The doctor, Father.

Now you stay here, my girl.

Willful little bitch, ain't she? Hell to be married to, I should think.

Her mother certainly was, God rest her soul.

I'm told that Ligeia too was not without... willfulness.

Peperel! Peperel!

- Where the devil is... - Behind you, my lord.

Damn me if I eat with Squire Daniels again.

Bad breeding only exceeded by worse whisky.

From Mr. Fell, sir.

Please, see this reaches him immed... as soon as possible.

Christopher, I'm riding down to the village. I can easily...

That won't be necessary, my dear. Bye.

- Well, off to the assizes. - The assizes, huh.

I've got an important brief.

How a gentleman can continue to practice law is beyond me.

- My lady, I... - Thank you, Peperel.

Rowena?

I thought it was... Never, never, never come here unannounced.

Do you understand?

I do not like to be discovered unannounced.

Stop that! Stop it!

I'll get you something.

I can't send you off shivering like a frightened kitten, now, can I?

Come here.

Your hair...

It makes a shambles of the light.

Come along.

I dare say you've never had tea in the kitchen before.

No, I haven't.

- Here. - Thank you.

Does she look like me?

Who?

The woman you seem so afraid will arrive unannounced.

Why did you come here?

To deliver Christopher's reply to your note.

Really to see you. Sugar?

I have nothing to offer.

You make me want to offer you something.

Pity prompts you.

There are people one pities without being drawn to them.

I suppose I even pity Christopher.

He's blinded in his way too, you know.

His life being simply law and logic.

To be so limited.

The beauty of such a life lies in its limitations and in accepting them.

Oh, I know.

I suppose I'm spoiled and terribly willful.

Willful? You don't even know the meaning of the word.

Now, I think you'd better go.

Why?

Why must I go?

Do you suppose I might be announced? I am expected.

Very good, sir.

You don't understand.

- I can welcome no one here. - Not even in the kitchen of all places?

- Wait. Wait. - Let me go!

I'm sorry.

Please, let me go.

Yes. Yes, that is, after all what I want too, isn't it?

To be let go.

Yes, of course, of course.

Pale and cold and...

and yet, so much life...

It was her longing for life...