How Green Was My Valley Page #5

You have my permission to speak.

Very well, then. Here is what I think.

First, have your union.

You need it. Alone, you are weak.

Together, you are strong.

But remember that with strength goes

responsibility, to others and yourselves.

For you cannot conquer injustice

with more injustice,

only with justice, and the help of God.

Are you coming outside

your position in life, Mr Gruffydd?

Your business is spiritual.

My business is anything

between man and the spirit of God.

The deacons shall hear that

you have been preaching socialism.

- Mr Parry...

- Loose the old devil.

- Mr Parry...

- Stop now. He is our guest.

- Beth, a pint of home-brew for Mr Parry.

- I'll give him a clout with the frying pan.

Miss Jenkins. A sweet song. The harp, is it?

Come on, men. Get in here.

Now look, a little song...

Angharad.

Mr Gruffydd, will we always be in your debt?

Now you have made us a family again.

Here. Let me.

Your hands. There's a pity.

No matter.

Have you ever been down the collieries?

- Ten years.

- Ten years?

While I was studying.

- A bit of soap now.

- Don't bother, please.

There's a man for you,

spoiling his good handkerchief.

Look now, you are king in the chapel,

but I will be queen in my own kitchen.

You will be queen wherever you walk.

What does that mean?

I should not have said it.

Why?

I have no right to speak to you so.

Mr Gruffydd?

If the right is mine to give,

you have it.

Then the strike was settled,

with the help of Mr Gruffydd and my father.

Work again, work to wipe out

the memory of idleness and hardship.

The men were happy

going up the hill that morning.

- One and nine.

- One and ten.

But not all of them, for there were

too many now for the jobs open,

and some learned that never again would

there be work for them in their own valley.

It is the same all over South Wales, it is.

Father, in Cardiff the men are standing

in line to have bread from the government.

Not for us, eh, lad?

We will have our share of the box

and go, if you please, sir.

- Where will you go?

- America.

- My share too, Owen.

- And mine.

No. Our own.

- We will take no charity.

- Not charity, man. Sense.

No, only our own.

Say nothing of this to your mother.

Let this day be over first.

Never mind saying nothing.

I heard.

America.

My babies.

Shall we have a chapter, my sons?

What shall we have, sir?

Isaiah 55.

Those two gone. This is only the beginning.

Then all of you will go,

one after the other. All of you.

I will never leave you, Momma.

Huw, boy, if you should ever leave me,

I'll be sorry I ever had babies.

Why did you have them?

Indeed to goodness, boy, why?

To keep my hands in water

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