Far from the Madding Crowd Page #2
A greeting between them. She steps out and looks after him.
The ice melting -
8B EXT. GABRIEL’S CARAVAN, NORCOMBE HILL - DAY 8B
GABRIEL has two dogs, YOUNG GEORGE who barks and nips at the
flock, and OLD GEORGE who sits contentedly by BATHSHEBA.
A new development. BATHSHEBA watches GABRIEL go about his
work with some admiration. GABRIEL, for his part, is showing
off a little.
GABRIEL:
Come by, George. Come!
(Returning to BATHSHEBA)
He’s keen enough, Young George, but
he doesn’t know when to stop.
(petting OLD GEORGE)
(MORE)
FFMC Shooting Script Sept 2013
5
GABRIEL (CONT'D)
Not like this one. Been with me a
long time, haven’t you?
BATHSHEBA:
And what’s that one called?
GABRIEL:
This is Old George.
BATHSHEBA:
(she laughs)
Of course. Old George.
And GABRIEL walks away towards his caravan.
GABRIEL:
Find me amusing, do you?
9 EXT. NORCOMBE HILL - NIGHT 9
BATHSHEBA is out riding once more. She stops. It’s a
beautiful night, the stars framing her, steam rising from the
horse. From somewhere in the distance, the sound of dogs
barking.
Some distance away stands GABRIEL’s hut, the small building
on wheels that he uses for shelter when watching the flock at
night. Smoke rises from the chimney.
But something is amiss.
We follow her towards the caravan. She knocks on the door -
no answer. She goes in and finds -
10 INT. GABRIEL’S CARAVAN, NORCOMBE HILL - NIGHT 10
GABRIEL lies unconscious in the smoky interior. BATHSHEBA
takes in the scene then leaps into action. With all her
strength, she drags him upright, slaps his face.
BATHSHEBA:
Mr Oak! Mr Oak, wake up! Gabriel
Oak!
Nothing. Now she tries to haul him to her feet. But he falls,
a dead-weight, across her lap. This is all new to BATHSHEBA.
A man in her lap. She takes it in. To her side, a jug of
milk. She takes it, throws it into his face.
Gasping, dazed and confused he comes round. Looks up, sees
her face. She laughs with relief. GABRIEL is confused,
breathless.
GABRIEL:
What’s the matter? What is it?
FFMC Shooting Script Sept 2013
6
BATHSHEBA:
Nothing, since you’re not dead. I
was heading home when I heard the
dogs barking.
(she busies herself,
ventilating the hut)
It’s very foolish of you, Farmer.
Oak. My uncle had a hut just like
this, I used to play in it as a
little girl and he told me, always,
always keep a window open or you’ll
suffocate.
( - the wetness - )
I’m sorry about the milk. At least
it was warm.
(he attempts to stand,
stumbles. Takes her HAND)
Rest a moment. You know, Farmer
Oak, I think I may have saved your
life.
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"Far from the Madding Crowd" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 May 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/far_from_the_madding_crowd_571>.
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