LADY CHATTERLEY (1993)

Lady Chatterley S01E01 WEB-DL

This programme contains some scenes of a sexual nature.

Ours is a tragic age. So we refuse to take it tragically.

The cataclysm has happened. We are among the ruins.

We start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It's extremely hard work.

But we have got to go on living, no matter how many skies may fall.

The spirit struggles on into new life. But the body is not yet filled with new blood and new fire,

which is the resurrection into full life. (How absurd.) We are indebted to the Chatterley family

for the memorial plaque which will serve to remind future generations of the brave men of this parish

who gave their lives for us in the Great War, 1914-1918.

Sir Clifford, would you kindly lay the first wreath?

ORGAN PLAYS "SHEEP MAY SAFELY GRAZE"

Who's luckier, do you think? My brother or me? Clifford, please.

I believe I am. Herbert has his immortality, but I have his title and Wragby Hall.

Thank you, Field.

A most moving sermon, Rector. Thank you, my Lady.

Our sons are dead. A whole generation of young men destroyed.

What "little hopes" remain, do you think, Rector?

- We must think of the living. - Provided they're not all dead.

Take the Chatterleys. Herbert was killed and Clifford is paralysed.

His father, the family name doomed to extinction, died of grief.

It will be a great loss when there are no more Chatterleys.

Careful, Field! Sir Clifford, Lady Constance, thank you for joining us.

We owe you every kindness. If there's anything we can do...

I hardly think so. I'm delighted there's still a Chatterley at Wragby. We'll try to keep tradition alive.

Thank you. We'd love to. I doubt we'll be putting in an appearance

anywhere that one is an object of charity. Field! We do understand.

Do come to tea next week, perhaps? I look forward to it, my Lady.

Thank God THAT'S over with! They're only trying to do the right thing.

By Jove, Connie, your neck must be more rubbery than mine if you can stand that sort of thing!

They've cut production, and they'll cut wages next! You bloody tell 'em!

The bosses are taking the food from your children's mouths!

BAND PLAYS "ANYTHING FOR JESUS"

Are you all right? Better mud than pity! Careful! Step on it, Field!

This ghastly war between classes! It's as if we're different species!

It's always been like that in the Midlands.

You'll get used to it. I shan't. Do they hate us?

Does it matter? They need us. But are they the enemy?

You see them trespassing, poaching. Don't they seem like the enemy? Why must Wragby come between us?

Be glad it does. How would you like to live in a hovel? I shouldn't.

CAR-HORN

Here's to you, Connie. You've been so wonderful to me.

A loyal wife, a good companion, a patient nurse. You're patient with me.

Patient, considerate, witty... Oh! Brave... An almost perfect husband, in fact.

Well, to us both, then. The lucky ones.

To be wounded with the war nearly over, one might almost say that was..dreadful luck.

You're alive. That's what matters. How long have we been married? Six months?

Only one month living together as a real man and wife.

I thought you'd mind terribly. I mind for your sake. Why should I mind for myself?

Perhaps you're right. There's something much stronger than sex between you and I, isn't there?

Yes, of course.

Clifford, do you think it's about time we got a valet, a manservant for you?

Lady Rathbone's butler has a cousin... We can't afford another servant. We can afford a gamekeeper.

I don't need a butler. I have you.

And we've always had a gamekeeper. Mellors has come back to his post.

I hear he terrifies the village children if they venture into our orchard.

Yes, he's a sort of wild man of the woods. Keeps very much to himself.

But he's a good keeper. And he watches fiercely for poachers. The "enemy".

Hm.

SOMEONE WEEPING

What's this now?

Give over! Jumping on the pheasants, biting their necks! Think about that, then cry for them.

What's going on? ..See now, my Lady's looking at you.

Shut it up! Why is she crying?

Better ask HER that. I asked YOU !

Aye, I know you did, but I can't say as I understand it meself.

What is it, dear? Don't be afraid to tell me.

Here's a sixpence, and tell me what hurt you. The pussycat. What cat, dear? He shot it.

No wonder she's crying if you shot it in front of her. He set about Sir Clifford's pheasant chicks.

Look, never mind. You keep your sixpence and tell me your name.

B-Betty. B-Betty Mellors.

Oh, well, that's a nice name, Betty. Do you like walking in the wood?

My dad made me go. You didn't want to? I wanted to stop with me Gran.

My mother cleans up my place every Friday. Brings the child with her.

Shall I take you back to your Gran? Come on, then.

I'll take her back whilst you do what you have to do. You don't have to. But I shall.

Why did you come by yourself, love? Oh! Whatever...? Hello, Mrs Mellors.

Betty was upset so I brought her. Very kind, I'm sure. He shot the pussycat.

It was only a poaching cat, but it upset her.

Look, Gran. Sixpence, an' all?

You've been doing very well! And what did you say? Thank you.

Thank you, Your LADYship. Thank you, Your LADYship.

Off you go and wash your face.

I knowed there'd be trouble of some sort when he took her off with him. He's too ready wi' his hand.

She's the sort as never forgives. So you may imagine how they get on together.

Not at all, I suppose. You're right. I'm his mother and we don't get on too bright either, I can tell you.

Well, anyway, goodbye, Mrs Mellors.

Good day, your Ladyship. Thank you for bringing the child home.

"Two horses draw the chariot of a man's soul,

"the savage black horse of desire and the delicate white horse of the spirit.

"When the soul beholds the vision of love,

"the obedient steed, always under the government of shame, refrains from leaping on the beloved.

"But the other, heedless of the pricks and blows of the whip, plunges and runs away." Damn!

I do think Socrates is stupid and overbearing with his black horse.

Black Horse is merely a symbol of our passions. Do you think he has a right to his desires? Why not?

He has a right to his desires, or he shouldn't exist. Shouldn't desire and passion be curbed?

Don't you curb your black horse? I don't want to. I mean to set him free once he's found his way.

Oh, damn philosophers and their curbings! What do they know?

But I know, and I want to speak of it now so YOU'LL know.

I don't want you to feel you've brought me a sacrifice.

I don't.

You did want me before this happened, didn't you? Yes!

I've been mutilated, but what about you?

Your body hasn't been broken,

and you don't need to be buried up to the waist to keep me company. I'm not deprived of anything I want.

You're the real loser. I know how I depend on you. I live on you.

You know how I want you to.

I know, and it's bitter. We've got to make the best of it so I tell you now.

If you meet a man you absolutely want, for your sexual life, take him! Have a lover if you want to.

Let's speak no more of this. I am your wife for better or for worse. I don't want anyone else.

"A LONG, LONG TRAIL A-WINDING"

SINGING AND MARCHING FEET

EXPLOSION

MACHINE-GUN FIRE AND SHOUTING

STATIC

GENTLE CLASSICAL MUSIC

Are you going out today? I was thinking of getting some fresh air.

Could you pass Mellors' cottage and ask him to drop in tomorrow?

Yes, if you want me to.

You don't sound too eager! No, I'm happy to, it's just that he can be so disagreeable.

Well, if you don't want to, get Field or Marshall to ask him. No, I'll do it. Don't be silly.

Oh! Oh...

I'm sorry, I didn't know. Your Ladyship... Shall you come in?

Did you knock before? Em... No.

I sort of wondered if I heard something.

Oh, em... Sir Clifford says, could you come and see him tomorrow afternoon?

Oh, aye, I'll call in before lunch, then, tomorrow, if Sir Clifford wants.

Thank you.

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon, your Ladyship.

Ha! Connie, you must listen to this. "Oh, if only the women had covered their faces,

"what fire of passion would have flamed through Hajji Baba's body!

"But, seeing all the bold, naked indecency of their countenances, his fire was quenched!"

Don't you think that it's rather a pity that we never see anything of people but their faces?

What, cover their faces and walk with their bodies naked? Yes. Why should we see nothing but a face?

The face reveals the personality.

Perhaps the body has a life of its own truer than the personality. What part? Stomach? Heart? Lungs?

Well, why is a torso in a sculpture often so lovely without a head?

It's because it has a life of its own. A rather mindless one, I suspect.

BELL RINGS

You called, master?

This is no time for practical jokes.

I am your faithful servant.

What sort of game is this?

Your wish...is my command.

Stop play-acting!

Why are you doing this to me? You don't even WISH to touch me!

I can't. Not any more.

It would be cruel to both of us.

I'm sorry, Cliff.

I think this is really the very heart of England.

When you think of the past, the men who've gone from here to war...

My father and his workmen felling trees for the trenches...

Now you and me. Who'll come after us, Connie?

I suppose the colliers will take it over.

They'll tear it down and turn it into a day-school for their kids. Perhaps it won't be so.

It's never the obvious that happens.

To me, Wragby stands for all that is decent, dignified and beautiful.

If some of old England isn't preserved, there'll be no England left.

We, who have this property and the feeling for it,

must preserve it. Well, I'm not from an ancestral hall, so all this leaves me rather unmoved.

Well, it wouldn't if you had children.

I'm sorry that I can't give you a son, carry on your family tradition.

Yes, well... Do you think you might...consider it? Consider what?

Having a child. I could train it to hang on to Wragby, the mines... All of it!

The fight for property and the right to own it! You wouldn't mind if another man touched me?

Mind? Of course I'd mind. But it's no use my minding, is it?

It might be a good idea if you had a child by another man.

If we brought it up at Wragby, it would belong to us, and the place.

I don't mind about fatherhood. If we had a child to rear, it would be ours, and it would carry on!

Do you think you might consider it? You know quite well that I couldn't.

DOG BARKING Bramble!

I say, Mellors!

Come over here and give me a hand with the chair! Sir.

WHEELCHAIR MOTOR ROARING

Connie! Not too tired, are you?

Oh, no.

That'll do, Mellors.

Goodnight, your Ladyship.