Howards End

"Dearest Meg, I'm having a glorious time.

I like them all.

They are the happiest, jolliest family you can imagine.

The fun of it is, they think me a noodle.

And say so. At least Mr. Wilcox does.

Oh, Meg, shall we ever learn to talk less.

But dearest Meg...

i don't know what to say or what you will say.

Paul wilcox and I are in love.

We are engaged."

- Well, you Schlegel girls! - Tibby, look.

Margaret, if I may interfere.

What is going on?

I can tell you nothing, aunt Juley. I know no more than you do.

We only met the wilcoxes last spring while we were hiking in germany.

Oh, dear.

Someone must go down to howards house to make inquiries.

- Howards end. - Inquiries are necessary.

What do we know about these wilcoxes? Are they our sort? Likely people?

But aunt Juley, what does it matter?

Helen's in love. That's all I need to know.

Please get me a train timetable, dear.

- Good morning. - Good morning.

Paul?

I'm afraid Crane has reported sick again.

He was to take me to the worrington's today for tennis. I told them.

He's standing, of course.

Get rid of him, father, hire a new chauffeur.

Mother, we're off. Good-bye.

Charlie, wait.

- What? - Is papa there?

Wait a minute. I've got some cherries.

- About last night. - Nothing happened.

- I'm afraid I lost my head. - Yes, we both did.

Must've been the moonlight, except there was no moon.

Well, that's quite all right.

- Do you mind? - No.

I have no money of my own...

and I have to make my way in Nigeria.

It's beastly there for a white woman, with the climate, natives and all that.

- I think you're a ripping girl. - It's quite all right.

No one knows about it.

- Meg! I wrote to my sister. - You didn't!

Yes, I'm sorry. She's sure to come. We must stop her.

We'll send a telegram. Crane's off sick.

- Isn't there a bicycle? - Yes, there is somewhere.

That'll be one and threepence 70, sir.

M.j. Schlegel. 6 Wickham place.

London, west.

"Dear Meg. All over.

Wish i'd never written. Tell no one. Helen."

Excuse me. I'm looking for somewhere called howards house.

Mr. Wilcox, this lady wants Howards End.

Forgive my asking. Are you the younger Mr. Wilcox or the elder?

The younger.

The station's unorganized. If I had my way, the whole lot would be sacked.

- Thank you, bernard. - Thank you, sir.

I should introduce myself. I am miss Schlegel's aunt.

Rather. Yes, miss Schlegel's stopping with us.

- Do you want to see her? - That would be very nice.

I could run you up.

All the Schlegels are exceptional.

They are british to the backbone...

but their father was german...

and that is why they care for literature and art.

Just one minute.

Wilcox, Howards End!

Know that I come in no spirit of interference.

I'm here to represent the family...

and to talk to you about helen wilcox...

my niece, and you.

Miss Schlegel and myself?

I trust there's no misunderstanding.

It's true I'm engaged to be married...

but to another young lady, not to miss Schlegel.

Helen wrote to us. She has told us everything.

Good god! It's some foolery of Paul's!

- But you are Paul. - No, I'm not.

- Why did you say so? - I said nothing of the sort.

- You did. - I did not. My name is Charles.

You mean to tell me that Paul and your niece have... the idiot!

Damn fool!

Look, I warn you.

It's useless. Paul hasn't a penny.

No need to warn us. The warning is all the other way.

He hasn't told us, but your niece lost no time in publishing the news.

If I were a man, for that last remark i'd box your ears.

You're not fit to sit in the same room as my niece.

- She spread the news, he hasn't. - Or to clean her boots.

- Might I finish my sentence? - No! I won't argue with such a person.

Let me out of this car this instant.

Don't stand up. Sit down! Sit down!

Just sit down! Goodness sakes!

It will, I think, be generally admitted...

that beethoven's fifth symphony...

is the most sublime noise...

ever to have penetrated the ear of man.

But what does it mean?

You can hardly fail to recognize in this music...

a mighty drama.

The struggle of a hero beset by perils...

riding to magnificent victory and ultimate triumph...

as described in the development section of the first movement.

I want to draw your attention to the third movement.

We no longer hear the hero, but a goblin.

Thank you, mother.

Single, solitary goblin...

walking across the universe...

from beginning to end.

Why a goblin?

- I beg your pardon? - Why a goblin?

It's obvious.

The goblin signifies the spirit of negation.

But why specifically a goblin?

Panic and emptiness. That is what...

a goblin signifies.

Miss!

Excuse me, miss, but my umbrella.

Miss!

Miss?

Mrs. Wilcox never got her wedding dress wet.

Hurry up, Charles.

In you go.

Good-bye. See you there.

Astonishing bad luck...

that in the whole of london they could find no flat to rent...

except the one bottled up against our library window.

Who could find no flat?

Tibby, the wilcoxes.

Surely you remember that business last summer...

with helen and Paul wilcox.

Paul wilcox?

The one I was expected to thrash within an inch of his life?

Oh, miss!

What is it? Is Tibby ill?

Tibby's making tea.

Well, there's nothing worse than that.

Now, helen...

something odd has happened.

Promise me you won't mind.

It's the wilcoxes.

They've taken the flat opposite for the wedding of their son.

The other son.

You do mind.

Will Paul wilcox point and say, '; there lives the girl who tried to catch me"?

Ridiculous.

They've only taken the flat for a few weeks, the porter said.

Do we bow or cut them dead?

Darling, why don't you take up cousin frieda's invitation...

and go to hamburg for those few weeks?

I think I shall.

Not that it matters, but...

one wouldn't want to keep bumping into wilcoxes.

Don't hog all those scones, Tibby.

Is that young man for us, do you suppose?

He is for us.

If you'll pardon me, miss. You took my umbrella.

Inadvertently, I'm sure.

At the ethical hall. ;'music and meaning."

I'm so sorry.

I do nothing but steal umbrellas. Come in and choose one.

Let's see. Is yours a hooky or a knobbly?

I think mine's a knobbly.

That's Tibby's. How about this one? You shouldn't open these indoors.

It's gone along the seams.

This is an appalling umbrella. It must be mine.

I'm sorry.

Has my sister stolen your umbrella?

Not again, helen. She is an incorrigible thief. I am so sorry.

Do stay for tea, Mr...

- bast. - Won't you stay for tea?

Do stay for tea.

It's the least we can do, having made you all wet.

Our brother's upstairs to chaperone.

- He's soaked, Meg. Please come up. - Bring him upstairs.

What did you think of the lecture? I don't agree about goblins.

But I do about the heroes and shipwreck.

I'd always imagined a trail of elephants dancing at that point.

He obviously didn't. ;'music and meaning," margaret.

Does music have meaning, of the literary kind, I mean?

- That's pure slush. - We've a guest.

- Mr. Bast, take off your coat. - Trust us with your umbrella.

- Sit down. - Have some tea.

How boring it would be if it were only the score.

China tea? Only the score? What an insidious omen.

We have other tea if you prefer.

Thank you.

Here's some scones that Tibby hasn't yet consumed.

We're sorry to have inconvenienced you. I hope you will come another day.

Would you?

We should be so glad. Do take our card.

Thank you.

If you'll excuse me, i must be going.

I'll see you out. Are you sure you don't want a spot for the journey?

No, thank you. I must be going. Good-bye.

Why didn't you make that young man welcome, Tibby?

You must do the host a little, you know.

You could've coaxed him into stopping...

instead of letting him be swamped by screaming women.

Get your hot soup here!