Time Regained (Le Temps retrouvé)

TIME REGAINED

Then, one day,

everything changes.

Things that had been

detestable

to you,

that had always been banned,

are now allowed.

For instance:

"May I have some champagne?"

"Why, certainly,

if it makes you happy."

You can't believe your ears.

You send for everything

that had been most forbidden.

That's why there is something...

rather indecent...

about the unbelievable frivolity

of the dying.

Dictating is too tiring.

I'll try to write.

You may...

You may bring me

a little hot milk, but only if it makes you happy.

You know, Céleste,

if I get through the night,

tomorrow

I'll show the doctors

I'm more than a match for them.

Wait.

There, in the desk.

Thank you.

You may go now.

Don't leave me alone too long.

Odette.

Grandmother.

The Verdurins.

Mama.

Papa.

Cottard.

Robert... Robert de Saint-Loup.

What's he doing here?

Papa again.

Rachel.

Gilberte.

Me.

- Disgraceful! - But pretty.

I adore Chopin, don't you?

Oh, yes!

What can we do? Odette is around.

- Isn't this Beethoven? - I'm afraid so.

The nerve of her, just turning up!

She's aged. Or am I dreaming?

You're dreaming.

She's ravishing.

Darling! Lovely to see you!

I'd lost hope. How is Monsieur?

You know Charlie. He's hilarious!

You missed his latest jest. Beethoven's German dances!

Your son-in-law loves Beethoven.

Schumann, actually.

Of course. I had an awful night. A migraine.

I shouldn't have read the news before bed!

You heard about that soldier on leave?

He returned only to find his house bombed,

his children dead, his wife crippled. It's too much!

So unfair.

I'm babbling! Some refreshment?

Morel's gone again.

Always breezing in and out.

Perhaps I chased him away.

Come! Look at this!

Do come! It's much funnier than any of your stories!

Marcel?

Once upon a time, a jealous husband

ordered his innocent wife to be killed.

She was Genevieve de Brabant.

In the deep, dark forest his henchmen took pity on her

and spared her life.

A few years later, Count Siegfried found her sleeping in a hollow tree.

Am I disturbing you? Should I stop?

Game's over?

Feeling bored?

I'm afraid you're too sensitive to look at this.

It takes a real soldier

to look such butchery in the eye.

See? I was right.

Gilberte?

Why won't you answer me?

I was short of time that day, you know.

I'd like to have rebuffed you.

Really? Why?

To make you remember me.

I, for one...

often think about that sign you made.

Some things you don't forget.

I was twelve. It was completely innocent.

Indecent, you mean!

Whatever did you imagine?

I was only saying how pretty you were.

Did I do wrong?

Gilberte!

Marcel! Come here!

Céleste?

Are you there?

Tell me the truth. Are there roses in the house?

Roses? No, sir.

Upon my word.

I believe you, but...

Just now when...

Mr. de Charlus came by, I dozed off.

No one came by.

He may have worn a rose in his buttonhole.

Or thrown it away on the doorstep.

You know how a few specks of pollen...

Mr. de Charlus was wearing no rose.

Do me the pleasure

of calling him to ask if he threw one away.

All day long in this too countrified house,

which seemed more like a backwood shelter,

its wallpaper awash with apple trees in the Japanese style

to hallucinate the hours you spend in bed,

I spent all day in my bedroom

with its view of sweet greenery and lilac,

the leaves of the tall trees down by the shimmering water

and Méséglise Forest.

I enjoyed this view because I thought

it was so nice to have all this greenery in my window...

Until, in the vista of green, I recognized,

etched dark blue in the distance,

the belfry of Combray church.

That belfry seems so natural and distinguished.

Laugh if you like.

It's not classically beautiful but I like its strange old face.

If it played the piano, it wouldn't play crisply

I'll be back tomorrow evening.

And gone the day after?

I'm sorry, Gilberte.

I forgot I have to meet a local man

in Paris.

Couldn't you...

I don't know... call him and say...

Sorry, no.

I'm terribly sorry.

Do you believe me?

Feel how quick my heart beats.

Abnormally quick. Because of you.

I hate to see you so sad.

I feel guilty.

You can't believe how guilty.

You're overdoing it, Robert. By far.

Gilberte! Won't you kiss me?

What are you reading?

May I see?

The Goncourts' Journal.

It's fun. They write about Papa

and people he knew.

- May I borrow it? - Take it.

Read it on the train.

I'm keeping that one.

The Girl with Eyes of Gold.

It's very improper!

I know it.

It's admirable.

You think so?

Those women are jealous only of women.

For others, man is the enemy,

the one who brings the wrong caress.

I was miserable

when my fiancée loved another man.

But not half as miserable as if she'd loved women.

That "fiancée"... Did you love her as much as me?

Because you claim to have loved me.

Perhaps not.

She wasn't your equal.

But still, I really loved her.

Did she love women?

I think so.

I'm not sure.

Here.

You should remember her.

Albertine.

You told me she was disreputable.

I said that?

If I did, you misunderstood.

I was talking about flirting with boys.

And at that age, nothing much happens.

You know what I think?

We're talking too much.

And forgetting to eat.

I think that when you stop loving a woman

and see her again, years later...

Between you and her, there's death.

As if she'd passed away

because your love is over.

You mean I'm dead?

I'm only thinking

about all those questions that once tormented me

but are of no interest to me now.

Such as?