Picnic at Hanging Rock Page #3

all about Miranda.

She's an orphan.

Sara reminds me of a little deer

Papa brought home once.

I looked after it...

...but it died.

Mama always said it was doomed.

Doomed? What's that mean, Irma?

Doomed to die, of course.

'The boy stood on the burning deck,

whence all but he had fled, tra la... '

I forget the rest.

I think I must be doomed.

I don't feel at all well.

I do wish you'd stop talking for once.

Poor Edith. We'll go back soon.

Irma! Look at them!

Where in the world are they going?

Without their shoes!

Irma, wait! Wait for me! Please wait!

Wait, Irma, wait!

Whatever can those people

be doing down there?

Like a lot of ants.

Surprising the number of human beings

are without purpose.

Although it is probable they're performing

some function unknown to themselves.

Everything begins and ends...

...at exactly the right time and place.

Look!

Oh, Miranda, I feel awful

... really awful.

Miranda, I feel perfectly awful.

When are we going home?

Miranda?

Miranda!

Miranda!

Miranda, don't go up there!

Come back!

I've gotta go. That's Mrs Appleyard.

Let someone else go.

They won't. No. lm on.

What time is it?

What've you got to do?

- Mrs Appleyard'll skin me.

- We got plenty of time.

You'd better go.

Why are they so late?

God be praised!

Mademoiselle, why are you so late?

Madame... something terrible has happened.

What?

What do you mean?

I can't...

And where in heaven's name is

Miss McCraw?

We left her behind

at the rock.

You left her behind?

Has everyone taken leave

of their senses?

Miss Lumley, get these girls to

bed immediately.

And Cook, Cook!

Hot soup, please, for all of them.

Mrs Appleyard...

I must speak to you alone.

Very well.

Straight up the stairs, girls.

Come along, quickly as you can.

Cook, I asked you for hot soup!

Well, ma'am... ma'am,

the strength of it is this.

Three of your young ladies...

...and, er... Miss McCraw...

...are m-missing...

...on the rock.

What happened?

Well, now, Mrs Appleyard.

That's just the trouble.

Nobody knows what happened.

How soon after the girls

did Miss McCraw leave?

Don't know. No one knows.

No one saw her leave. We were asleep.

And the little one?

Edith Horton.

Like I told ya,

she come tearin' out of the bushes,

dress all torn,

screamin' fit to...

Well, after we'd shushed her screamin',

all we could get out of her was that

she'd left the other three

somewhere up on the rock.

That's about all I can tell ya.

Miranda!

Marion!

Irma!

Go on, get out of it.

Ah, stop it!

Come on.

Miranda!

Try to remember, Edith...

...what it was that frightened you

on the rock.

Think carefully, darling. Carefully!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes