How to Make Love Like an Englishman

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(Richard) It's important

you understand:

it's not you, it's me.

What we have is so special.

I love you more than I can say.

But I'm sorry.

Truly.

Because- I f***ed up.

Look...

I owe you an explanation.

But honestly, I don't

know where to begin.

Maybe there...

at the beginning.

You see, I grew up

above a great party.

(Music plays)

(Loud moaning)

(Woman) Oh, Gordon!

(Young Richard) Mummy?

(Gordon) She's-

she's in the kitchen.

Just what are you doing?

I'm waiting for

your mother to bring

out the hors d'oeuvres.

Now bugger off.

(Richard) After school,

I used to love to listen

to my father lecture.

(Gordon) Now the faculty would

have me teach it was Wordsworth,

Keats and Coleridge who,

in writing about love,

defined the Romantic Age.

And they've told

me to ignore Byron.

'Mad, bad, and dangerous to

know' was how one of his many

lovers described him.

He was controversial.

Now did you know, this esteemed

establishment told Byron that

he wasn't allowed to bring

his beloved dogs to college.

So he said 'screw the rules. '

He went out and he

bought himself a bear.

Brought it to class

on a chain and leash,

tied it up to that

very pipe just there.

So, you see, it was Byron

who defined the Romantic Age,

which wasn't about love.

It was about going your own way.

Defying authority and

following your heart.

Sticking it to the man and

as many women as possible.

Now that's- that is Romantic!

(Laughter)

And if the faculty don't

like me saying so, well,

they can take this job and

they can shove it. Because like

Mr. Bob Dylan, I ain't gonna

work on Maggie's Farm no more!

(Cheering)

(Richard) Dad hated authority...

and everyone loved him for it.

All I wanted was to

be just like him.

Forget the critics.

Let them have their opinions.

Let them publish their books

and brag about them at tedious

faculty parties, and let

university librarians

file those books away.

The faculty

has called this class:

'The Romantics

and Literary Theory'.

I want you all to forget the

second half of this sentence.

There's nothing theoretical

about the Romantics.

Where true love burns, desire

is love's pure passion.

It is the reflex

of our earthly frame

that takes its meaning

from the nobler parts,

and but translates the

language of the heart.

(Kate) Wakey, wakey,

Professor Haig.

Oh, sh*t...

it's Saturday, isn't it?

Now don't look like that.

Are you sure about this?

I mean, I make a terrible

first impression.

Will you relax, Richard?

My dad is gonna love you.

Really?

Yeah, you'll

have lots to talk about.

Yeah, corporate,

hard-nosed raider meets

libidinous Lit professor.

It's a match made in heaven.

I just want my dad to

meet the wonderful man

I've been dating for

the last six months.

Six months?

Broke your

record, didn't I?

- Done what?

- Easy.

Love is begun by time,

and time qualifies the

spark and fire of it all.

Relax. You're still

very sparky, darling.

Really sparky, I mean-

Well, my Liege, I must hie me

to Heathrow, thou to London.

Chimes of six o'clock sharp.

- Sure. Of course.

- Sharp.

Sharp. six o'clock. Chimes.

(Olivia) Sal, I've got to go.

Why? Because we've

been talking for so long,

I've lost track of

time, space and myself.

(Sal) Hello, Olivia?

(Doorman) Not to worry,

madam, I'll call maintenance.

We'll fish it out later.

(Sal) Are you there?

Can you hear me?

- Please don't.

- Hello?

Olivia?

(Cell phone vibrates)

Hoopla!

There you go.

Are they fishing your

phone out of the drain?

(Olivia) No, I told them not to.

I am cutting myself

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