Mrs Dalloway

Evans!

Don't come!

LONDON, June 13, 1923

Those ruffians dead Gods|shan't have it all their own way.

Those gods who never lose |a chance of hurting, foughting ...

and spoiling human lives ...

are seriously put out|if all the same, you behave like a lady.

Of course, now I think there are no | Gods and there's no one to blame.

It's so very dangerous to live | for only one day.

I buy the flowers myself, Lucy. | Yes, ma'am.

And Mrs Walker |said not to forget that

Rumplemayers's men| will be here at eleven.

I won't forget.

Oh, what a day, Lucy! |What a day for my party.

What a luck!

What a plunge!

What a plunge!

Good morning to you, Clarissa. | Hugh!

And where are you off to? | To buy flowers for my party.

I love walking in London on a day|like this. It's better that in the country.

Evelyn wouldn't agree with you there. | She can't bear coming out to town.

I had to get her to come up to see W. Bud.

He's putting her in a nursing home, | for a few days.

Nothing serious?

No, nothing serious. She's just a good deal |out of salts.

The war may be over, | but there is still the echoe of it.

The Boxborough boy| was killed, you know ...

and she is very close|to Lady Boxborough.

And Evelyn takes things badly.

Yes, one does still hear dreadful stories.

I must get on. The'll be waiting for this, | at the palace.

Will you still come to my party tonight?

Oh, yes! Evelyn absolutly insists I go.

Hugh Whitbread. I can forgive you | liking him, Clarissa.

He's a buffon. Even when he plays tennis, | his hair doesn't move.

He's a barbers block. An imbecil. |He thinks of nothing but his clothes.

I like him.

How can you? He's never read anything. |Never thought anything.

Never felt anything!

Stabel boys are more likeable than|Hugh.

Sally says | he tried to kiss her in the smoking-room.

Oh! | She didn't let him? She rather die first.

Good for Sally. She sees through that | public school nonsense.

Old manners and breeding.

No country but England | could have produced Hugh.

He is sweet and unselfish | and he's very good to his mother.

You're so sentimental, Clarissa!

And you're impossible!

Oh, what beautiful flowers! |That's absolutly wonderful, Sally.

Oh, I thought Sally could be trusted |to do the flowers.

That's wicked. To cut off the heads | of those flowers. Really...

I think they're beautiful.

Peter, look at the flowers.

Yes.

Roses for the hall, I think.

And sweet peas for the table, | perhaps?

Yes! Sweet pea to the table. | It will be perfect!

Those awful motorcars.

Yes | Of course, it was a car.

- I'm loose it here. | - Septimus, please. We must go on.

I'm loose it here, |and I don't know with what purpose.

Septimus, please, poeple are looking at us. |Am I blocking the way?

Allright, then.

Bye, Mrs. Dalloway.

Mrs. Dalloway, Mrs. Dalloway. | I'm not even Clarissa anymore.

No more marrying, no more having children. |Just Mrs. Dalloway.

Mrs. Richard Dalloway, |who's to give a party.

You'll marry| a prime minister ...

and stand | at the top of the staircase.

Who'll give parties. |You'll be the perfect hostess.

You have the makings | of a perfect hostess.

You could do so much, | be so much.

What you want me to be?

Life seems to me to be very dangerous.

But one must live life |dangerously!

Look! Look, Septimus!

Is no crime.

There is no death.

The birds are singing in Greek.

The whole world is clamouring. | "Kill yourself!" "Kill yourself!"

Septimus, I'm going to walk to the lake and back.

"Kreemo". It says "Kreemo".

-So revigorating. | - I know what you meen.

The bushies, the flowers. |So well kept.

Yes, this is a wonderful garden. |Beautiful.

You should see the Milan gardens! |

What a strange person. | She's a foreigner.

Make it now ... Make it now ...

But there is a God! | No one kills from hatred!

Evans!

For God sake! Don't come!

T. .. O. ..

F. .. F. ..

E. .. And!

It says "toffee"! | I know it's "toffee".

Look, Lucy.

It sayed "Kreemo toffee".

There was a phone message, ma'am. Mr. Dalloway |sayed to tell you he would not be home for lunch.

He would be lunching at lady Bruton's.

He did!

Lady Bruton. Well...

Clarissa, my darling. Parliament | sits so late ...

and the doctor said | you must get your rest.

You must sleep undisturbed.

Fear no more the heat of the sun ...

nor the furious winter's rages.

It's all over for me.

The sheets stretched and | the bed narrow.

What we need to do is abolish | private property ...

because that really is what|causes all the problems.

Let's write | a letter to the Times about it.

Then, we should found | a society ...

to abolish private property |and do away with it forever and ever.

This house as well?

You always |look so virginal, Clarissa!

I am virginal.

Are you in love with Peter?

Oh, love...

I don't know.

But you love me?

Damn and blust! I left my sponge | in the bathroom.

Tell me to go and get it, like this!

You wouldn't! |I would!

Is it all over for me?

I've come up to the tower and left them all | blackberrying in the sun.

Don't run, Clarissa! | Young ladies don't run.

Leipzig is good, but I think| Heidelberg is beautiful...

especially this time of year. | The "Philosopher's Walk".

It reminds me very much of here, | with the gardens.

You are most fortunate the way |your gardens are done.

And you have many trees. The colors and|the way it's all been orchestrated.

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