Fanny and Alexander Page #2

- Good night.

- Sweet dreams.

Putte kisses like a real man.

Alexander,

look what I got for Christmas!

Look what Mrs Ekdahl gave me!

Aren't I madly beautiful?

I look like a real lady, don't I?

You can't sleep in my bed tonight,

because I'll be having a caller.

And I can't fit any number

of men in my bed, you know.

But you're my sweetheart.

You do know that, don't you?

Well, it's time to turn in.

We must get up early tomorrow.

Carl...

Carlchen, wake up.

It's time to go home.

Good night, Mama.

I'll just give Carl a hand.

- It's time to go home.

- Here we go...

Good night, Mother.

Good night, Mama.

"There she lies, the beautiful girl,

poor little Arabella.

Little does she know what awaits her.

She is all alone in the big house.

Her mother is dead, and her father is

carousing with unsavoury companions.

Who comes there

at the stroke of midnight?

Dread seizes me...

What is this terrifying white figure

floating there on the moonbeams

and drawing near my bed?

'Tis the spirit of my dead mother."

Now settle down!

Go to sleep! Good night.

I thought the nursery

smelled of paraffin oil...

- There's no paraffin lamp in there.

- That's what it smelt like.

Here you go, Isak.

I made us some nice strong coffee.

A vast improvement on Vega's

awful dishwater. Here.

What can the time be? Ten past three?

That means we have two whole hours

before I must change for church.

My, it's nice to have you here!

You're my best friend.

Whatever would I do without you?

Last year, I enjoyed Christmas...

This year all I wanted to do was cry.

I suppose I'm getting old.

- Do you think I've aged?

- You've grown older, yes.

I suspected as much.

Yes, all I wanted to do was weep.

Though I love seeing

my grandchildren, of course.

I thought Oscar looked tired.

That wretched theatre wears him out.

And why does he have to play

the Ghost? He needs to rest.

- Besides, he's a terrible actor.

- Indeed...

I wonder if Emelie realizes

he's run down and needs a rest.

I think I'll have a word with her.

Oscar's capable, you know.

Capable and conscientious.

Just imagine, the theatre

is actually turning a small profit!

Isn't that splendid?

A few years back, I had to contribute

at least 50,000 a year.

I didn't mind, but it was awkward

for Oscar to ask me for money.

Not like Carl...

He's asked me for another loan,

but I refused.

If he comes to you,

promise me you'll say no as well.

I can't make sense of it. Time and

again I clear everything up for him.

But a year later,

he's in dire straits again.

He claims that he doesn't

go to moneylenders.

- Do you know anything about that?

- I know nothing.

And that poor German woman

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