Datasets:

AIRI-NLP

/

quality_counter_new_1536

like 0

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

deeper

How many times the word 'deeper' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

stillness

How many times the word 'stillness' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

go

How many times the word 'go' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

always

How many times the word 'always' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

fall

How many times the word 'fall' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

darkness

How many times the word 'darkness' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

unspiritual

How many times the word 'unspiritual' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

safe

How many times the word 'safe' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

account

How many times the word 'account' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

dionysic

How many times the word 'dionysic' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

put

How many times the word 'put' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

wrong

How many times the word 'wrong' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

shall

How many times the word 'shall' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

cry

How many times the word 'cry' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

remembered

How many times the word 'remembered' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

insists

How many times the word 'insists' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

bank

How many times the word 'bank' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

compter

How many times the word 'compter' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

useful

How many times the word 'useful' appears in the text?

you. There are plenty of women who will lie down for you to walk over them _go_ to them then, if that s what you want go to them. No, he said, outspoken with anger. I want you to drop your assertive _will_, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let yourself go. Let myself go! she re-echoed in mockery. I can let myself go, easily enough. It is you who can t let yourself go, it is you who hang on to yourself as if it were your only treasure. _You you_ are the Sunday school teacher _You_ you preacher. The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of her. I don t mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way, he said. I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other. It s like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to insist be glad and sure and indifferent. Who insists? she mocked. Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn t _me!_ There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice. He was silent for some time. I know, he said. While ever either of us insists to the other, we are all wrong. But there we are, the accord doesn t come. They sat in stillness under the shadow of the trees by the bank. The night was white around them, they were in the darkness, barely conscious. Gradually, the stillness and peace came over them. She put her hand tentatively on his. Their hands clasped softly and silently, in peace. Do you really love me? she said. He laughed. I call that your war-cry, he replied, amused. Why! she cried, amused and really wondering. Your insistence Your war-cry A Brangwen, A Brangwen an old battle-cry. Yours is, Do you love me? Yield knave, or die. No, she said, pleading, not like that. Not like that. But I must know that you love me, mustn t I? Well then, know it and have done with it. But do you? Yes, I do. I love you, and I know it s final. It is final, so why say any more about it. She was silent for some moments, in delight and doubt. Are you sure? she said, nestling happily near to him. Quite sure so now have done accept it and have done. She was nestled quite close to him. Have done with what? she murmured, happily. With bothering, he said. She clung nearer to him. He held her close, and kissed her softly, gently. It was such peace and heavenly freedom, just to fold her and kiss her gently, and not to have any thoughts or any desires or any will, just to be still with her, to be perfectly still and together, in a peace that was not sleep, but content in bliss. To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere, this was heaven: to be together in happy stillness. For a long time she nestled to him, and he kissed her softly, her hair, her face, her ears, gently, softly, like dew falling. But this warm breath on her ears disturbed her again, kindled the old destructive fires. She cleaved to him, and he could feel his blood changing like quicksilver. But we ll be still, shall we? he said. Yes, she said, as if submissively. And she continued to nestle against him. But in a little while she drew away and looked at him. I must be going home, she said. Must you how sad, he replied. She leaned forward and put up her mouth to be kissed. Are you really sad? she murmured, smiling. Yes, he said, I wish we could stay as we were, always. Always! Do you? she murmured, as he kissed her. And then, out of a full throat, she crooned Kiss me! Kiss me! And she cleaved close to him. He kissed her many times. But he too had his idea and his will. He wanted only gentle communion, no other, no passion now. So that soon she drew away, put on her hat and went home. The next day however, he felt wistful and yearning. He thought he had been wrong, perhaps. Perhaps he had been wrong to go to her with an idea of what he wanted. Was it really only an idea, or was it the interpretation of a profound yearning? If the latter, how was it he was always talking about sensual fulfilment? The two did not agree very well. Suddenly he found himself face to face with a situation. It was as simple as this: fatally simple. On the one hand, he knew he did not want a further sensual experience something deeper, darker, than ordinary life could give. He remembered the African fetishes he had seen at Halliday s so often. There came back to him one, a statuette about two feet high, a tall, slim, elegant figure from West Africa, in dark wood, glossy and suave. It was a woman, with hair dressed high, like a melon-shaped dome. He remembered her vividly: she was one of his soul s intimates. Her body was long and elegant, her face was crushed tiny like a beetle s, she had rows of round heavy collars, like a column of quoits, on her neck. He remembered her: her astonishing cultured elegance, her diminished, beetle face, the astounding long elegant body, on short, ugly legs, with such protuberant buttocks, so weighty and unexpected below her slim long loins. She knew what he himself did not know. She had thousands of years of purely sensual, purely unspiritual knowledge behind her. It must have been thousands of years since her race had died, mystically: that is, since the relation between the senses and the outspoken mind had broken, leaving the experience all in one sort, mystically sensual. Thousands of years ago, that which was imminent in himself must have taken place in these Africans: the goodness, the holiness, the desire for creation and productive happiness must have lapsed, leaving the single impulse for knowledge in one sort, mindless progressive knowledge through the senses, knowledge arrested and ending in the senses, mystic knowledge in disintegration and dissolution, knowledge such as the beetles have, which live purely within the world of corruption and cold dissolution. This was why her face looked like a beetle s: this was why the Egyptians worshipped the ball-rolling scarab: because of the principle of knowledge in dissolution and corruption. There is a long way we can travel, after the death-break: after that point when the soul in intense suffering breaks, breaks away from its organic hold like a leaf that falls. We fall from the connection with life and hope, we lapse from pure integral being, from creation and liberty, and we fall into the long, long African process of purely sensual understanding, knowledge in the mystery of dissolution. He realised now that this is a long process thousands of years it takes, after the death of the creative spirit. He realised that there were great mysteries to be unsealed, sensual, mindless, dreadful mysteries, far beyond the phallic cult. How far, in their inverted culture, had these West Africans gone beyond phallic knowledge? Very, very far. Birkin recalled again the female figure: the elongated, long, long body, the curious unexpected heavy buttocks, the long, imprisoned neck, the face with tiny features like a beetle s. This was far beyond any phallic knowledge, sensual subtle realities far beyond the scope of phallic investigation. There remained this way, this awful African process, to be fulfilled. It would be done differently by the white races. The white races, having the arctic north behind them, the vast abstraction of ice and snow, would fulfil a mystery of ice-destructive knowledge, snow-abstract annihilation. Whereas the West Africans, controlled by the burning death-abstraction of the Sahara, had been fulfilled in sun-destruction, the putrescent mystery of sun-rays. Was this then all that remained? Was there left now nothing but to break off from the happy creative being, was the time up? Is our day of creative life finished? Does there remain to us only the strange, awful afterwards of the knowledge in dissolution, the African knowledge, but different in us, who are blond and blue-eyed from the north? Birkin thought of Gerald. He was one of these strange white wonderful demons from the north, fulfilled in the destructive frost mystery. And was he fated to pass away in this knowledge, this one process of frost-knowledge, death by perfect cold? Was he a messenger, an omen of the universal dissolution into whiteness and snow? Birkin was frightened. He was tired too, when he had reached this length of speculation. Suddenly his strange, strained attention gave way, he could not attend to these mysteries any more. There was another way, the way of freedom. There was the paradisal entry into pure, single being, the individual soul taking precedence over love and desire for union, stronger than any pangs of emotion, a lovely state of free proud singleness, which accepted the obligation of the permanent connection with others, and with the other, submits to the yoke and leash of love, but never forfeits its own proud individual singleness, even while it loves and yields. There was the other way, the remaining way. And he must run to follow it. He thought of Ursula, how sensitive and delicate she really was, her skin so over-fine, as if one skin were wanting. She was really so marvellously gentle and sensitive. Why did he ever forget it? He must go to her at once. He must ask her to marry him. They must marry at once, and so make a definite pledge, enter into a definite communion. He must set out at once and ask her, this moment. There was no moment to spare. He drifted on swiftly to Beldover, half-unconscious of his own movement. He saw the town on the slope of the hill, not straggling, but as if walled-in with the straight, final streets of miners dwellings, making a great square, and it looked like Jerusalem to his fancy. The world was all strange and transcendent. Rosalind opened the door to him. She started slightly, as a young girl will, and said: Oh, I ll tell father. With which she disappeared, leaving Birkin in the hall, looking at some reproductions from Picasso, lately introduced by Gudrun. He was admiring the almost wizard, sensuous apprehension of the earth, when Will Brangwen appeared, rolling down his shirt sleeves. Well, said Brangwen, I ll get a coat. And he too disappeared for a moment. Then he returned, and opened the door of the drawing-room, saying: You must excuse me, I was just doing a bit of work in the shed. Come inside, will you. Birkin entered and sat down. He looked at the bright, reddish face of the other man, at the narrow brow and the very bright eyes, and at the rather sensual lips that unrolled wide and expansive under the black cropped moustache. How curious it was that this was a human being! What Brangwen thought himself to be, how meaningless it was, confronted with the reality of him. Birkin could see only a strange, inexplicable, almost patternless collection of passions and desires and suppressions and traditions and mechanical ideas, all cast unfused and disunited into this slender, bright-faced man of nearly fifty, who was as unresolved now as he was at twenty, and as uncreated. How could he be the parent of Ursula, when he was not created himself. He was not a parent. A slip of living flesh had been transmitted through him, but the spirit had not come from him. The spirit had not come from any ancestor, it had come out of the unknown. A child is the child of the mystery, or it is uncreated. The weather s not so bad as it has been, said Brangwen, after waiting a moment. There was no connection between the two men. No, said Birkin. It was full moon two days ago. Oh! You believe in the moon then, affecting the weather? No, I don t think I do. I don t really know enough about it. You know what they say? The moon and the weather may change together, but the change of the moon won t change the weather. Is that it? said Birkin. I hadn t heard it. There was a pause. Then Birkin said: Am I hindering you? I called to see Ursula, really. Is she at home? I don t believe she is. I believe she s gone to the library. I ll just see. Birkin could hear him enquiring in the dining-room. No, he said, coming back. But she won t be long. You wanted to speak to her? Birkin looked across at the other man with curious calm, clear eyes. As a matter of fact, he said, I wanted to ask her to marry me. A point of light came on the golden-brown eyes of the elder man. O-oh? he said, looking at Birkin, then dropping his eyes before the calm, steadily watching look of the other: Was she expecting you then? No, said Birkin. No? I didn t know anything of this sort was on foot Brangwen smiled awkwardly. Birkin looked back at him, and said to himself: I wonder why it should be on foot ! Aloud he said: No, it s perhaps rather sudden. At which, thinking of his relationship with Ursula, he added but I don t know Quite sudden, is it? Oh! said Brangwen, rather baffled and annoyed. In one way, replied Birkin, not in another. There was a moment s pause, after which Brangwen said: Well, she pleases herself Oh yes! said Birkin, calmly. A vibration came into Brangwen s strong voice, as he replied: Though I shouldn t want her to be in too big a hurry, either. It s no good looking round afterwards, when it s too late. Oh, it need never be too late, said Birkin, as far as that goes. How do you mean? asked the father. If one repents being married, the marriage is at an end, said Birkin. You think so? Yes. Ay, well that may be your way of looking at it. Birkin, in silence, thought to himself: So it may. As for _your_ way of looking at it, William Brangwen, it needs a little explaining. I suppose, said Brangwen, you know what sort of people we are? What sort of a bringing-up she s had? She , thought Birkin to himself, remembering his childhood s corrections, is the cat s mother. Do I know what sort of a bringing-up she s had? he said aloud. He seemed to annoy Brangwen intentionally. Well, he said, she s had everything that s right for a girl to have as far as possible, as far as we could give it her. I m sure she has, said Birkin, which caused a perilous full-stop. The father was becoming exasperated. There was something naturally irritant to him in Birkin s mere presence. And I don t want to see her going back on it all, he said, in a clanging voice. Why? said Birkin. This monosyllable exploded in Brangwen s brain like a shot. Why! _I_ don t believe in your new-fangled ways and new-fangled ideas in and out like a frog in a gallipot. It would never do for me. Birkin watched him with steady emotionless eyes. The radical antagnoism in the two men was rousing. Yes, but are my ways and ideas new-fangled? asked Birkin. Are they? Brangwen caught himself up. I m not speaking of you in particular, he said. What I mean is that my children have been brought up to think and do according to the religion I was brought up in myself, and I don t want to see them going away from _that_. There was a dangerous pause. And beyond that ? asked Birkin. The father hesitated, he was in a nasty position. Eh? What do you mean? All I want to say is that my daughter he tailed off into silence, overcome by futility. He knew that in some way he was off the track. Of course, said Birkin, I don t want to hurt anybody or influence anybody. Ursula does exactly as she pleases. There was a complete silence, because of the utter failure in mutual understanding. Birkin felt bored. Her father was not a coherent human being, he was a roomful of old echoes. The eyes of the younger man rested on the face of the elder. Brangwen looked up, and saw Birkin looking at him. His face was covered with inarticulate anger and humiliation and sense of inferiority in strength. And as for beliefs, that s one thing, he said. But I d rather see my daughters dead tomorrow than that they should be at the beck and call of the first man that likes to come and whistle for them. A queer painful light came into Birkin s eyes. As to that, he said, I only know that it s much more likely that it s I who am at the beck and call of the woman, than she at mine. Again there was a pause. The father was somewhat bewildered. I know, he said, she ll please herself she always has done. I ve done my best for them, but that doesn t matter. They ve got themselves to please, and if they can help it they ll please nobody _but_ themselves. But she s a right to consider her mother, and me as well Brangwen was thinking his own thoughts. And I tell you this much, I would rather bury them, than see them getting into a lot of loose ways such as you see everywhere nowadays. I d rather bury them Yes but, you see, said Birkin slowly, rather wearily, bored again by this new turn, they won t give either you or me the chance to bury them, because they re not to be buried. Brangwen looked at him in a sudden flare of impotent anger. Now, Mr Birkin, he said, I don t know what you ve come here for, and I don t know what you re asking for. But my daughters are my daughters and it s my business to look after them while I can. Birkin s brows knitted suddenly, his eyes concentrated in mockery. But he remained perfectly stiff and still. There was a pause. I ve nothing against your marrying Ursula, Brangwen began at length. It s got nothing to do with me, she ll do as she likes, me or no me. Birkin turned away, looking out of the window and letting go his consciousness. After all, what good was this? It was hopeless to keep it up. He would sit on till Ursula came home, then speak to her, then go away. He would not accept trouble at the hands of her father. It was all unnecessary, and he himself need not have provoked it. The two men sat in complete silence, Birkin almost unconscious of his own whereabouts. He had come to ask her to marry him well then, he would wait on, and ask her. As for what she said, whether she accepted or not, he did not think about it. He would say what he had come to say, and that was all he was conscious of. He accepted the complete insignificance of this household, for him. But everything now was as if fated. He could see one thing ahead, and no more. From the rest, he was absolved entirely for the time being. It had to be left to fate and chance to resolve the issues. At length they heard the gate. They saw her coming up the steps with a bundle of books under her arm. Her face was bright and abstracted as usual, with the abstraction, that look of being not quite _there_, not quite present to the facts of reality, that galled her father so much. She had a maddening faculty of assuming a light of her own, which excluded the reality, and within which she looked radiant as if in sunshine. They heard her go into the dining-room, and drop her armful of books on the table. Did you bring me that Girl s Own? cried Rosalind. Yes, I brought it. But I forgot which one it was you wanted. You would, cried Rosalind angrily. It s right for a wonder. Then they heard her say something in a lowered tone. Where? cried Ursula. Again her sister s voice was muffled. Brangwen opened the door, and called, in his strong, brazen voice: Ursula. She appeared in a moment, wearing her hat. Oh how do you do! she cried, seeing Birkin, and all dazzled as if taken by surprise. He wondered at her, knowing she was aware of his presence. She had her queer, radiant, breathless manner, as if confused by the actual world, unreal to it, having a complete bright world of her self alone. Have I interrupted a conversation? she asked. No, only a complete silence, said Birkin. Oh, said Ursula, vaguely, absent. Their presence was not vital to her, she was withheld, she did not take them in. It was a subtle insult that never failed to exasperate her father. Mr Birkin came to speak to _you_, not to me, said her father. Oh, did he! she exclaimed vaguely, as if it did not concern her. Then, recollecting herself, she turned to him rather radiantly, but still quite superficially, and said: Was it anything special? I hope so, he said, ironically. To propose to you, according to all accounts, said her father. Oh, said Ursula. Oh, mocked her father, imitating her. Have you nothing more to say? She winced as if violated. Did you really come to propose to me? she asked of Birkin, as if it were a joke. Yes, he said. I suppose I came to propose. He seemed to fight shy of the last word. Did you? she cried, with her vague radiance. He might have been saying anything whatsoever. She seemed pleased. Yes, he answered. I wanted to I wanted you to agree to marry me. She looked at him. His eyes were flickering with mixed lights, wanting something of her, yet not wanting it. She shrank a little, as if she were exposed to his eyes, and as if it were a pain to her. She darkened, her soul clouded over, she turned aside. She had been driven out of her own radiant, single world. And she dreaded contact, it was almost unnatural to her at these times. Yes, she said vaguely, in a doubting, absent voice. Birkin s heart contracted swiftly, in a sudden fire of bitterness. It all meant nothing to her. He had been mistaken again. She was in some self-satisfied world of her own. He and his hopes were accidentals, violations to her. It drove her father to a pitch of mad exasperation. He had had to put up with this all his life, from her. Well, what do you say? he cried. She winced. Then she glanced down at her father, half-frightened, and she said: I didn t speak, did I? as if she were afraid she might have committed herself. No, said her father, exasperated. But you needn t look like an idiot. You ve got your wits, haven t you? She ebbed away in silent hostility. I ve got my wits, what does that mean? she repeated, in a sullen voice of antagonism. You heard what was asked you, didn t you? cried her father in anger. Of course I heard. Well then, can t you answer? thundered her father. Why should I? At the impertinence of this retort, he went stiff. But he said nothing. No, said Birkin, to help out the occasion, there s no need to answer at once. You can say when you like. Her eyes flashed with a powerful light. Why should I say anything? she cried. You do this off your _own_ bat, it has nothing to do with me. Why do you both want to bully me? Bully you! Bully you! cried her father, in bitter, rancorous anger. Bully you! Why, it s a pity you can t be bullied into some sense and decency. Bully you! _You ll_ see to that, you self-willed creature. She stood suspended in the middle of the room, her face glimmering and dangerous. She was set in satisfied defiance. Birkin looked up at her. He too was angry. But none is bullying you, he said, in a very soft dangerous voice also. Oh yes, she cried. You both want to force me into something. That is an illusion of yours, he said ironically. Illusion! cried her father. A self-opinionated fool, that s what she is. Birkin rose, saying: However, we ll leave it for the time being. And without another word, he walked out of the house. You fool! You fool! her father cried to her, with extreme bitterness. She left the room, and went upstairs, singing to herself. But she was terribly fluttered, as after some dreadful fight. From her window, she could see Birkin going up the road. He went in such a blithe drift of rage, that her mind wondered over him. He was ridiculous, but she was afraid of him. She was as if escaped from some danger. Her father sat below, powerless in humiliation and chagrin. It was as if he were possessed with all the devils, after one of these unaccountable conflicts with Ursula. He hated her as if his only reality were in hating her to the last degree. He had all hell in his heart. But he went away, to escape himself. He knew he must despair, yield, give in to despair, and have done. Ursula s face closed, she completed herself against them all. Recoiling upon herself, she became hard and self-completed, like a jewel. She was bright and invulnerable, quite free and happy, perfectly liberated in her self-possession. Her father had to learn not to see her blithe obliviousness, or it would have sent him mad. She was so radiant with all things, in her possession of perfect hostility. She would go on now for days like this, in this bright frank state of seemingly pure spontaneity, so essentially oblivious of the existence of anything but herself, but so ready and facile in her interest. Ah it was a bitter thing for a man to be near her, and her father cursed his fatherhood. But he must learn not to see her, not to know. She was perfectly stable in resistance when she was in this state: so bright and radiant and attractive in her pure opposition, so very pure, and yet mistrusted by everybody, disliked on every hand. It was her voice, curiously clear and repellent, that gave her away. Only Gudrun was in accord with her. It was at these times that the intimacy between the two sisters was most complete, as if their intelligence were one. They felt a strong, bright bond of understanding between them, surpassing everything else. And during all these days of blind bright abstraction and intimacy of his two daughters, the father seemed to breathe an air of death, as if he were destroyed in his very being. He was irritable to madness, he could not rest, his daughters seemed to be destroying him. But he was inarticulate and helpless against them. He was forced to breathe the air of his own death. He cursed them in his soul, and only wanted, that they should be removed from him. They continued radiant in their easy female transcendancy, beautiful to look at. They exchanged confidences, they were intimate in their revelations to the last degree, giving each other at last every secret. They withheld nothing, they told everything, till they were over the border of evil. And they armed each other with knowledge, they extracted the subtlest flavours from the apple of knowledge. It was curious how their knowledge was complementary, that of each to that of the other. Ursula saw her men as sons, pitied their yearning and admired their courage, and wondered over them as a mother wonders over her child, with a certain delight in their novelty. But to Gudrun, they were the opposite camp. She feared them and despised them, and respected their activities even overmuch. Of course, she said easily, there is a quality of life in Birkin which is quite remarkable. There is an extraordinary rich spring of life in him, really amazing, the way he can give himself to things. But there are so many things in life that he simply doesn t know. Either he is not aware of their existence at all, or he dismisses them as merely negligible things which are vital to the other person. In a way, he is not clever enough, he is too intense in spots. Yes, cried Ursula, too much of a preacher. He is really a priest. Exactly! He can t hear what anybody else has to say he simply cannot hear. His own voice is so loud. Yes. He cries you down. He cries you down, repeated Gudrun. And by mere force of violence. And of course it is hopeless. Nobody is convinced by violence. It makes talking to him impossible and living with him I should think would be more than impossible. You don t think one could live with him asked Ursula. I think it would be too wearing, too exhausting. One would be shouted down every time, and rushed

high

How many times the word 'high' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

duty

How many times the word 'duty' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

became

How many times the word 'became' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

wish

How many times the word 'wish' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

derniers

How many times the word 'derniers' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

tears

How many times the word 'tears' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

chair

How many times the word 'chair' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

parent

How many times the word 'parent' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

mrs.

How many times the word 'mrs.' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

every

How many times the word 'every' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

nerves

How many times the word 'nerves' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

marriage,--to

How many times the word 'marriage,--to' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

silence

How many times the word 'silence' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

bluestone

How many times the word 'bluestone' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

dispara

How many times the word 'dispara' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

antagonistic

How many times the word 'antagonistic' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

lorsque

How many times the word 'lorsque' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

having

How many times the word 'having' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

aware

How many times the word 'aware' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

repudiate

How many times the word 'repudiate' appears in the text?

your cousin, unless you could love him. I don't think girls should ever be told to marry this man or that. But it is very proper that they should be told not to marry this man or that. You are making everybody about you miserable, because you will not give up a most improper engagement, made with a man who is in every respect beneath you." "I wish I were dead," said Lady Anna. "It is very easy to say that, my dear; but what you ought to wish is, to do your duty." "I do wish to do my duty, Mrs. Bluestone." "It can't be dutiful to stand out against your mother in this way. You are breaking your mother's heart. And if you were to do this thing, you would soon find that you had broken your own. It is downright obstinacy. I don't like to be harsh, but as you are here, in my charge, I am bound to tell you the truth." "I wish mamma would let me go away," said Lady Anna, bursting into tears. "She will let you go at once, if you will only make the promise that she asks of you." In saying this, Mrs. Bluestone was hardly more upon the square than her husband had been, for she knew very well, at that moment, that Lady Anna was to go to Keppel Street early on the Monday morning, and she had quite made up her mind that her guest should not come back to Bedford Square. She had now been moved to the special severity which she had shown by certain annoyances of her own to which she had been subjected by the presence of Lady Anna in her house. She could neither entertain her friends nor go out to be entertained by them, and had told the Serjeant more than once that a great mistake had been made in having the girl there at all. But judgment had operated with her as well as feeling. It was necessary that Lady Anna should be made to understand before she saw the tailor that she could not be happy, could not be comfortable, could not be other than very wretched,--till she had altogether dismissed her low-born lover. "I did not think you would be so unkind to me," sobbed Lady Anna through her tears. "I do not mean to be unkind, but you must be told the truth. Every minute that you spend in thinking of that man is a disgrace to you." "Then I shall be disgraced all my life," said Lady Anna, bursting out of the room. On that day the Serjeant dined at his club, but came home about nine o'clock. It had all been planned so that the information might be given in the most solemn manner possible. The two girls were sitting up in the drawing-room with the guest who, since the conversation in the morning, had only seen Mrs. Bluestone during dinner. First there was the knock at the door, and then, after a quarter of an hour, which was spent up-stairs in perfect silence, there came a message. Would Lady Anna have the kindness to go to the Serjeant in the dining-room. In silence she left the room, and in silence descended the broad staircase. The Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone were sitting on one side of the fireplace, the Serjeant in his own peculiar arm-chair, and the lady close to the fender, while a seat opposite to them had been placed for Lady Anna. The room was gloomy with dark red curtains and dark flock paper. On the table there burned two candles, and no more. The Serjeant got up and motioned Lady Anna to a chair. As soon as she had seated herself, he began his speech. "My dear young lady, you must be no doubt aware that you are at present causing a great deal of trouble to your best friends." "I don't want to cause anybody trouble," said Lady Anna, thinking that the Serjeant in speaking of her best friends alluded to himself and his wife. "I only want to go away." "I am coming to that directly, my dear. I cannot suppose that you do not understand the extent of the sorrow that you have inflicted on your parent by,--by the declaration which you made to Lord Lovel in regard to Mr. Daniel Thwaite." There is nothing, perhaps, in the way of exhortation and scolding which the ordinary daughter,--or son,--dislikes so much as to be told of her, or his, "parent." "My dear fellow, your father will be annoyed," is taken in good part. "What will mamma say?" is seldom received amiss. But when young people have their "parents" thrown at them, they feel themselves to be aggrieved, and become at once antagonistic. Lady Anna became strongly antagonistic. If her mother, who had always been to her her "own, own mamma," was going to be her parent, there must be an end of all hope of happiness. She said nothing, but compressed her lips together. She would not allow herself to be led an inch any way by a man who talked to her of her parent. "The very idea of such a marriage as this man had suggested to you under the guise of friendship was dreadful to her. It could be no more than an idea;--but that you should have entertained it was dreadful. She has since asked you again and again to repudiate the idea, and hitherto you have refused to obey." "I can never know what mamma really wants till I go and live with her again." "I am coming to that, Lady Anna. The Countess has informed Mrs. Bluestone that you had refused to give the desired promise unless you should be allowed to see Mr. Daniel Thwaite, intimating, I presume, that his permission would be necessary to free you from your imaginary bond to him." "It would be necessary." "Very well. The Countess naturally felt an abhorrence at allowing you again to be in the presence of one so much beneath you,--who had ventured to address you as he has done. It was a most natural feeling. But it has occurred to Mrs. Bluestone and myself, that as you entertain this idea of an obligation, you should be allowed to extricate yourself from it after your own fashion. You are to meet Mr. Thwaite,--on Monday,--at eleven o'clock,--in Keppel Street." "And I am not to come back again?" When one executes the office of gaoler without fee or reward, giving up to one's prisoner one's best bedroom, and having a company dinner, more or less, cooked for one's prisoner every day, one does not like to be told too plainly of the anticipated joys of enfranchisement. Mrs. Bluestone, who had done her best both for the mother and the girl, and had done it all from pure motherly sympathy, was a little hurt. "I am sure, Lady Anna, we shall not wish you to return," she said. "Oh, Mrs. Bluestone, you don't understand me. I don't think you know how unhappy I am because of mamma." Mrs. Bluestone relented at once. "If you will only do as your mamma wishes, everything will be made happy for you." "Mr. Thwaite will be in Keppel Street at eleven o'clock on Monday," continued the Serjeant, "and an opportunity will then be given you of obtaining from him a release from that unfortunate promise which I believe you once made him. I may tell you that he has expressed himself willing to give you that release. The debt due to him, or rather to his late father, has now been paid by the estate, and I think you will find that he will make no difficulty. After that anything that he may require shall be done to forward his views." "Am I to take my things?" she asked. "Sarah shall pack them up, and they shall be sent after you if it be decided that you are to stay with Lady Lovel." They then went to bed. In all this neither the Serjeant nor his wife had been "on the square." Neither of them had spoken truly to the girl. Mrs. Bluestone had let the Countess know that with all her desire to assist her ladyship, and her ladyship's daughter, she could not receive Lady Anna back in Bedford Square. As for that sending of her things upon certain conditions,--it was a simple falsehood. The things would certainly be sent. And the Serjeant, without uttering an actual lie, had endeavoured to make the girl think that the tailor was in pursuit of money,--and of money only, though he must have known that it was not so. The Serjeant no doubt hated a lie,--as most of us do hate lies; and had a strong conviction that the devil is the father of them. But then the lies which he hated, and as to the parentage of which he was quite certain, were lies told to him. Who yet ever met a man who did not in his heart of hearts despise an attempt made by others to deceive--himself? They whom we have found to be gentler in their judgment towards attempts made in another direction have been more than one or two. The object which the Serjeant had in view was so good that it seemed to him to warrant some slight deviation from parallelogrammatic squareness;--though he held it as one of his first rules of life that the end cannot justify the means. CHAPTER XXXVI. IT IS STILL TRUE. On Sunday they all went to church, and not a word was said about the tailor. Alice Bluestone was tender and valedictory; Mrs. Bluestone was courteous and careful; the Serjeant was solemn and civil. Before the day was over Lady Anna was quite sure that it was not intended that she should come back to Bedford Square. Words were said by the two girls, and by Sarah the waiting-maid, which made it certain that the packing up was to be a real packing up. No hindrance was offered to her when she busied herself about her own dresses and folded up her stock of gloves and ribbons. On Monday morning after breakfast, Mrs. Bluestone nearly broke down. "I am sure, my dear," she said, "we have liked you very much, and if there has been anything uncomfortable it has been from unfortunate circumstances." The Serjeant bade God bless her when he walked off half an hour before the carriage came to take her, and she knew that she was to sit no longer as a guest at the Serjeant's table. She kissed the girls, was kissed by Mrs. Bluestone, got into the carriage with the maid, and in her heart said good-bye to Bedford Square for ever. It was but three minutes' drive from the Serjeant's house to that in which her mother lived, and in that moment of time she was hardly able to realise the fact that within half an hour she would be once more in the presence of Daniel Thwaite. She did not at present at all understand why this thing was to be done. When last she had seen her mother, the Countess had solemnly declared, had almost sworn, that they two should never see each other again. And now the meeting was so close at hand that the man must already be near her. She put up her face to the carriage window as though she almost expected to see him on the pavement. And how would the meeting be arranged? Would her mother be present? She took it for granted that her mother would be present. She certainly anticipated no pleasure from the meeting,--though she would be glad, very glad, to see Daniel Thwaite once again. Before she had time to answer herself a question the carriage had stopped, and she could see her mother at the drawing-room window. She trembled as she went up-stairs, and hardly could speak when she found herself in her mother's presence. If her mother had worn the old brown gown it would have been better, but there she was, arrayed in black silk,--in silk that was new and stiff and broad and solemn,--a parent rather than a mother, and every inch a Countess. "I am so glad to be with you again, mamma." "I shall not be less glad to have you with me, Anna,--if you will behave yourself with propriety." "Give me a kiss, mamma." Then the Countess bent her head and allowed her daughter's lips to touch her cheeks. In old days,--days that were not so very old,--she would kiss her child as though such embraces were the only food that nourished her. "Come up-stairs, and I will show you your room." Then the daughter followed the mother in solemn silence. "You have heard that Mr. Daniel Thwaite is coming here, to see you, at your own request. It will not be many minutes before he is here. Take off your bonnet." Again Lady Anna silently did as she was bid. "It would have been better,--very much better,--that you should have done as you were desired without subjecting me to this indignity. But as you have taken into your head an idea that you cannot be absolved from an impossible engagement without his permission, I have submitted. Do not let it be long, and let me hear then that all this nonsense is over. He has got what he desires, as a very large sum of money has been paid to him." Then there came a knock at the door from Sarah, who just showed her face to say that Mr. Thwaite was in the room below. "Now go down. In ten minutes I shall expect to see you here again;--or, after that, I shall come down to you." Lady Anna took her mother by the hand, looking up with beseeching eyes into her mother's face. "Go, my dear, and let this be done as quickly as possible. I believe that you have too great a sense of propriety to let him do more than speak to you. Remember,--you are the daughter of an earl; and remember also all that I have done to establish your right for you." "Mamma, I do not know what to do. I am afraid." "Shall I go with you, Anna?" "No, mamma;--it will be better without you. You do not know how good he is." "If he will abandon this madness he shall be my friend of friends." "Oh, mamma, I am afraid. But I had better go." Then, trembling she left the room and slowly descended the stairs. She had certainly spoken the truth in saying that she was afraid. Up to this moment she had not positively made up her mind whether she would or would not yield to the entreaties of her friends. She had decided upon nothing,--leaving in fact the arbitrament of her faith in the hands of the man who had now come to see her. Throughout all that had been said and done her sympathies had been with him, and had become the stronger the more her friends had reviled him. She knew that they had spoken evil of him, not because he was evil,--but with the unholy view of making her believe what was false. She had seen through all this, and had been aroused by it to a degree of firmness of which her mother had not imagined her to be capable. Had they confined themselves to the argument of present fitness, admitting the truth and honesty of the man,--and admitting also that his love for her and hers for him had been the natural growth of the familiar friendship of their childhood and youth, their chance of moulding her to their purposes would have been better. As it was they had never argued with her on the subject without putting forward some statement which she found herself bound to combat. She was told continually that she had degraded herself; and she could understand that another Lady Anna might degrade herself most thoroughly by listening to the suit of a tailor. But she had not disgraced herself. Of that she was sure, though she could not well explain to them her reasons when they accused her. Circumstances, and her mother's mode of living, had thrown her into intimacy with this man. For all practical purposes of life he had been her equal,--and being so had become her dearest friend. To take his hand, to lean on his arm, to ask his assistance, to go to him in her troubles, to listen to his words and to believe them, to think of him as one who might always be trusted, had become a second nature to her. Of course she loved him. And now the martyrdom through which she had passed in Bedford Square had changed,--unconsciously as regarded her own thoughts,--but still had changed her feelings in regard to her cousin. He was not to her now the bright and shining thing, the godlike Phoebus, which he had been in Wyndham Street and at Yoxham. In all their lectures to her about her title and grandeur they had succeeded in inculcating an idea of the solemnity of rank, but had robbed it in her eyes of all its grace. She had only been the more tormented because the fact of her being Lady Anna Lovel had been fully established. The feeling in her bosom which was most hostile to the tailor's claim upon her was her pity for her mother. She entered the room very gently, and found him standing by the table, with his hands clasped together. "Sweetheart!" he said, as soon as he saw her, calling her by a name which he used to use when they were out in the fields together in Cumberland. "Daniel!" Then he came to her and took her hand. "If you have anything to say, Daniel, you must be very quick, because mamma will come in ten minutes." "Have you anything to say, sweetheart?" She had much to say if she only knew how to say it; but she was silent. "Do you love me, Anna?" Still she was silent. "If you have ceased to love me, pray tell me so,--in all honesty." But yet she was silent. "If you are true to me,--as I am to you, with all my heart,--will you not tell me so?" "Yes," she murmured. He heard her, though no other could have done so. "A lover's ears will hear the lowest sound When the suspicious head of theft is stopped." "If so," said he, again taking her hand, "this story they have told me is untrue." "What story, Daniel?" But she withdrew her hand quickly as she asked him. "Nay;--it is mine; it shall be mine if you love me, dear. I will tell you what story. They have said that you love your cousin, Earl Lovel." "No;" said she scornfully, "I have never said so. It is not true." "You cannot love us both." His eye was fixed upon hers, that eye to which in past years she had been accustomed to look for guidance, sometimes in joy and sometimes in fear, and which she had always obeyed. "Is not that true?" "Oh yes;--that is true of course." "You have never told him that you loved him." "Oh, never." "But you have told me so,--more than once; eh, sweetheart?" "Yes." "And it was true?" She paused a moment, and then gave him the same answer, "Yes." "And it is still true?" She repeated the word a third time. "Yes." But she again so spoke that none but a lover's ear could have heard it. "If it be so, nothing but the hand of God shall separate us. You know that they sent for me to come here." She nodded her head. "Do you know why? In order that I might abandon my claim to your hand. I will never give it up. But I made them a promise, and I will keep it. I told them that if you preferred Lord Lovel to me, I would at once make you free of your promise,--that I would offer to you such freedom, if it would be freedom. I do offer it to you;--or rather, Anna, I would have offered it, had you not already answered the question. How can I offer it now?" Then he paused, and stood regarding her with fixed eyes. "But there,--there; take back your word if you will. If you think that it is better to be the wife of a lord, because he is a lord, though you do not love him, than to lie upon the breast of the man you do love,--you are free from me." Now was the moment in which she must obey her mother, and satisfy her friends, and support her rank, and decide that she would be one of the noble ladies of England, if such decision were to be made at all. She looked up into his face, and thought that after all it was handsomer than that of the young Earl. He stood thus with dilated nostrils, and fire in his eyes, and his lips just parted, and his head erect,--a very man. Had she been so minded she would not have dared to take his offer. They surely had not known the man when they allowed him to have this interview. He repeated his words. "You are free if you will say so;--but you must answer me." "I did answer you, Daniel." "My noble girl! And now, my heart's only treasure, I may speak out and tell you what I think. It cannot be good that a woman should purchase rank and wealth by giving herself to a man she does not love. It must be bad,--monstrously bad. I never believed it when they told it me of you. And yet when I did not hear of you or see you for months--" "It was not my fault." "No, sweetheart;--and I tried to find comfort by so saying to myself. 'If she really loves me, she will be true,' I said. And yet who was I that I should think that you would suffer so much for me? But I will repay you,--if the truth and service of a life may repay such a debt as that. At any rate hear this from me;--I will never doubt again." And as he spoke he was moving towards her, thinking to take her in his arms, when the door was opened and Countess Lovel was within the room. The tailor was the first to speak. "Lady Lovel, I have asked your daughter, and I find that it is her wish to adhere to the engagement which she made with me in Cumberland. I need hardly say that it is my wish also." "Anna! Is this true?" "Mamma; mamma! Oh, mamma!" "If it be so I will never speak word to you more." "You will; you will! Do not look at me like that. You will speak to me!" "You shall never again be child of mine." But in saying this she had forgotten herself, and now she remembered her proper cue. "I do not believe a word of it. The man has come here and has insulted and frightened you. He knows,--he must know,--that such a marriage is impossible. It can never take place. It shall never take place. Mr. Thwaite, as you are a living man, you shall never live to marry my daughter." "My lady, in this matter of marriage your daughter must no doubt decide for herself. Even now, by all the laws of God,--and I believe of man too,--she is beyond your control either to give her in marriage or to withhold her. In a few months she will be as much her own mistress as you now are yours." "Sir, I am not asking you about my child. You are insolent." "I came here, Lady Lovel, because I was sent for." "And now you had better leave us. You made a promise which you have broken." "By heavens, no. I made a promise and I have kept it. I said that I would offer her freedom, and I have done so. I told her, and I tell her again now, that if she will say that she prefers her cousin to me, I will retire." The Countess looked at him and also recognised the strength of his face, almost feeling that the man had grown in personal dignity since he had received the money that was due to him. "She does not prefer the Earl. She has given her heart to me; and I hold it,--and will hold it. Look up, dear, and tell your mother whether what I say be true." "It is true," said Lady Anna. "Then may the blight of hell rest upon you both!" said the Countess, rushing to the door. But she returned. "Mr. Thwaite," she said, "I will trouble you at once to leave the house, and never more to return to it." "I will leave it certainly. Good bye, my own love." He attempted again to take the girl by the hand, but the Countess, with violence, rushed at them and separated them. "If you but touch him, I will strike you," she said to her daughter. "As for you, it is her money that you want. If it be necessary, you shall have, not hers, but mine. Now go." "That is a slander, Lady Lovel. I want no one's money. I want the girl I love,--whose heart I have won; and I will have her. Good morning, Lady Lovel. Dear, dear Anna, for this time good bye. Do not let any one make you think that I can ever be untrue to you." The girl only looked at him. Then he left the room; and the mother and the daughter were alone together. The Countess stood erect, looking at her child, while Lady Anna, standing also, kept her eyes fixed upon the ground. "Am I to believe it all,--as that man says?" asked the Countess. "Yes, mamma." "Do you mean to say that you have renewed your engagement to that low-born wretch?" "Mamma,--he is not a wretch." "Do you contradict me? After all, is it come to this?" "Mamma,--you, you--cursed me." "And you will be cursed. Do you think that you will do such wickedness as this, that you can destroy all that I have done for you, that you make yourself the cause of ruin to a whole family, and that you will not be punished for it? You say that you love me." "You know that I love you, mamma." "And yet you do not scruple to drive me mad." "Mamma, it was you who brought us together." "Ungrateful child! Where else could I take you then?" "But I was there,--and of course I loved him. I could not cease to love him because,--because they say that I am a grand lady." "Listen to me, Anna. You shall never marry him; never. With my own hands I will kill him first;--or you." The girl stood looking into her mother's face, and trembling. "Do you understand that?" "You do not mean it, mamma." "By the God above me, I do! Do you think that I will stop at anything now;--after having done so much? Do you think that I will live to see my daughter the wife of a foul, sweltering tailor? No, by heavens! He tells you that when you are twenty-one, you will not be subject to my control. I warn you to look to it. I will not lose my control, unless when I see you married to some husband fitting your condition in life. For the present you will live in your own room, as I will live in mine. I will hold no intercourse whatever with you, till I have constrained you to obey me." CHAPTER XXXVII. LET HER DIE. After the scene which was described in the last chapter there was a very sad time indeed in Keppel Street. The Countess had been advised by the Serjeant and Mrs. Bluestone to take her daughter immediately abroad, in the event of the interview with Daniel Thwaite being unsatisfactory. It was believed by all concerned, by the Bluestones, and the Goffes, by Sir William Patterson who had been told of the coming interview, and by the Countess herself, that this would not be the case. They had all thought that Lady Anna would come out from that meeting disengaged and free to marry whom she would,--and they thought also that within a very few weeks of her emancipation she would accept her cousin's hand. The Solicitor-General had communicated with the Earl, who was still in town, and the Earl again believed that he might win the heiress. But should the girl prove obstinate;--"take her away at once,--very far away;--to Rome, or some such place as that." Such had been Mrs. Bluestone's advice, and in those days Rome was much more distant than it is now. "And don't let anybody know where you are going," added the Serjeant,--"except Mr. Goffe." The Countess had assented;--but when the moment came, there were reasons against her sudden departure. Mr. Goffe told her that she must wait at any rate for another fortnight. The presence of herself and her daughter were necessary in London for the signing of deeds and for the completion of the now merely formal proofs of identity. And money was again scarce. A great deal of money had been spent lately, and unless money was borrowed without security, and at a great cost,--to which Mr. Goffe was averse,--the sum needed could hardly be provided at once. Mr. Goffe recommended that no day earlier than the 20th December should be fixed for their departure. It was now the end of November;

parchments

How many times the word 'parchments' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

why

How many times the word 'why' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

their

How many times the word 'their' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

mankind

How many times the word 'mankind' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

fellow

How many times the word 'fellow' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

fallen

How many times the word 'fallen' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

paradis

How many times the word 'paradis' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

officers

How many times the word 'officers' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

slipper

How many times the word 'slipper' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

november

How many times the word 'november' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

experience

How many times the word 'experience' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

testament

How many times the word 'testament' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

rowan

How many times the word 'rowan' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

can

How many times the word 'can' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

dislike

How many times the word 'dislike' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

remain

How many times the word 'remain' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

stumbled

How many times the word 'stumbled' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

mighty

How many times the word 'mighty' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

told

How many times the word 'told' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

automobile

How many times the word 'automobile' appears in the text?

your laws and those of Great Britain are nearly the same. There may be divergences, as in reference to the non-infliction of capital punishment. In such matters I shall endeavour to follow your wishes, and so to govern you that you may still feel that you are living under the rule of a president of your own selection." Here I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando was a little rash. He did not quite know the extent of my popularity, nor had he gauged the dislike which he himself would certainly encounter. He had heard a few voices in the hall, which, under fear of death, had expressed their dislike to the Fixed Period; but he had no idea of the love which the people felt for their own independence, or,--I believe I may say,--for their own president. There arose in the hall a certain amount of clamour, in the midst of which Sir Ferdinando sat down. Then there was a shuffling of feet as of a crowd going away. Sir Ferdinando having sat down, got up again and shook me warmly by the hand. I returned his greeting with my pleasantest smile; and then, while the people were moving, I spoke to them two or three words. I told them that I should start to-morrow at noon for England, under a promise made by me to their new governor, and that I purposed to explain to them, before I went, under what circumstances I had given that promise, and what it was that I intended to do when I should reach England. Would they meet me there, in that hall, at eight o'clock that evening, and hear the last words which I should have to address to them? Then the hall was filled with a mighty shout, and there arose a great fury of exclamation. There was a waving of handkerchiefs, and a holding up of hats, and all those signs of enthusiasm which are wont to greet the popular man of the hour. And in the midst of them, Sir Ferdinando Brown stood up upon his legs, and continued to bow without cessation. At eight, the hall was again full to overflowing. I had been busy, and came down a little late, and found a difficulty in making my way to the chair which Sir Ferdinando had occupied in the morning. I had had no time to prepare my words, though the thoughts had rushed quickly,--too quickly,--into my mind. It was as though they would tumble out from my own mouth in precipitate energy. On my right hand sat the governor, as I must now call him; and in the chair on my left was placed my wife. The officers of the gunboat were not present, having occupied themselves, no doubt, in banking up their fires. "My fellow-citizens," I said, "a sudden end has been brought to that self-government of which we have been proud, and by which Sir Ferdinando has told you that 'ignorance has been expelled from your shores, and poverty has been forced to hide her diminished head.' I trust that, under his experience, which he tells us as a governor has been very extensive, those evils may not now fall upon you. We are, however, painfully aware that they do prevail wherever the concrete power of Great Britain is found to be in full force. A man ruling us,--us and many other millions of subjects,--from the other side of the globe, cannot see our wants and watch our progress as we can do ourselves. And even Sir Ferdinando coming upon us with all his experience, can hardly be able to ascertain how we may be made happy and prosperous. He has with him, however, a company of a celebrated English regiment, with its attendant officers, who, by their red coats and long swords, will no doubt add to the cheerfulness of your social gatherings. I hope that you may not find that they shall ever interfere with you after a rougher fashion. "But upon me, my fellow-citizens, has fallen the great disgrace of having robbed you of your independence." Here a murmur ran through the hall, declaring that this was not so. "So your new Governor has told you, but he has not told you the exact truth. With whom the doctrine of the Fixed Period first originated, I will not now inquire. All the responsibility I will take upon myself, though the honour and glory I must share with my fellow-countrymen. "Your Governor has told you that he is aware of all the arguments by which the Fixed Period is maintained; but I think that he must be mistaken here, as he has not ventured to attack one of them. He has told us that it is fitting that we should leave the question of life and death in the hands of the Almighty. If so, why is all Europe bristling at this moment with arms,--prepared, as we must suppose, for shortening life,--and why is there a hangman attached to the throne of Great Britain as one of its necessary executive officers? Why in the Old Testament was Joshua commanded to slay mighty kings? And why was Pharaoh and his hosts drowned in the Red Sea? Because the Almighty so willed it, our Governor will say, taking it for granted that He willed everything of which a record is given in the Old Testament. In those battles which have ravished the North-west of India during the last half-century, did the Almighty wish that men should perish miserably by ten thousands and twenty thousands? Till any of us can learn more than we know at present of the will of the Almighty, I would, if he will allow me, advise our Governor to be silent on that head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it would be a long task, and one not to be accomplished before your bedtime, were I to recount to you, for his advantage, a few of the arguments which have been used in favour of the Fixed Period,--and it would be useless, as you are all acquainted with them. But Sir Ferdinando is evidently not aware that the general prolongation of life on an average, is one of the effects to be gained, and that, though he himself might not therefore live the longer if doomed to remain here in Britannula, yet would his descendants do so, and would live a life more healthy, more useful, and more sufficient for human purposes. "As far as I can read the will of the Almighty, or rather the progress of the ways of human nature, it is for man to endeavour to improve the conditions of mankind. It would be as well to say that we would admit no fires into our establishments because a life had now and again been lost by fire, as to use such an argument as that now put forward against the Fixed Period. If you will think of the line of reasoning used by Sir Ferdinando, you will remember that he has, after all, only thrown you back upon the old prejudices of mankind. If he will tell me that he is not as yet prepared to discard them, and that I am in error in thinking that the world is so prepared, I may perhaps agree with him. The John Bright in our harbour is the strongest possible proof that such prejudices still exist. Sir Ferdinando Brown is now your Governor, a fact which in itself is strong evidence. In opposition to these witnesses I have nothing to say. The ignorance which we are told that we had expelled from our shores, has come back to us; and the poverty is about, I fear, to show its head." Sir Ferdinando here arose and expostulated. But the people hardly heard him, and at my request he again sat down. "I do think that I have endeavoured in this matter to advance too quickly, and that Sir Ferdinando has been sent here as the necessary reprimand for that folly. He has required that I shall be banished to England; and as his order is backed by a double file of red-coats,--an instrument which in Britannula we do not possess,--I purpose to obey him. I shall go to England, and I shall there use what little strength remains to me in my endeavour to put forward those arguments for conquering the prejudices of the people which have prevailed here, but which I am very sure would have no effect upon Sir Ferdinando Brown. "I cannot but think that Sir Ferdinando gave himself unnecessary trouble in endeavouring to prove to us that the Fixed Period is a wicked arrangement. He was not likely to succeed in that attempt. But he was sure to succeed in telling us that he would make it impossible by means of the double file of armed men by whom he is accompanied, and the 250-ton steam-swiveller with which, as he informed me, he is able to blow us all into atoms, unless I would be ready to start with Captain Battleax to-morrow. It is not his religion but his strength that has prevailed. That Great Britain is much stronger than Britannula none of us can doubt. Till yesterday I did doubt whether she would use her strength to perpetuate her own prejudices and to put down the progress made by another people. "But, fellow-citizens, we must look the truth in the face. In this generation probably, the Fixed Period must be allowed to be in abeyance." When I had uttered these words there came much cheering and a loud sound of triumph, which was indorsed probably by the postponement of the system, which had its terrors; but I was enabled to accept these friendly noises as having been awarded to the system itself. "Well, as you all love the Fixed Period, it must be delayed till Sir Ferdinando and the English have--been converted." "Never, never!" shouted Sir Ferdinando; "so godless an idea shall never find a harbour in this bosom," and he struck his chest violently. "Sir Ferdinando is probably not aware to what ideas that bosom may some day give a shelter. If he will look back thirty years, he will find that he had hardly contemplated even the weather-watch which he now wears constantly in his waistcoat-pocket. At the command of his Sovereign he may still live to carry out the Fixed Period somewhere in the centre of Africa." "Never!" "In what college among the negroes he may be deposited, it may be too curious to inquire. I, my friends, shall leave these shores to-morrow; and you may be sure of this, that while the power of labour remains to me, I shall never desist to work for the purpose that I have at heart. I trust that I may yet live to return among you, and to render you an account of what I have done for you and for the cause in Europe." Here I sat down, and was greeted by the deafening applause of the audience; and I did feel at the moment that I had somewhat got the better of Sir Ferdinando. I have been able to give the exact words of these two speeches, as they were both taken down by the reporting telephone-apparatus, which on the occasion was found to work with great accuracy. The words as they fell from the mouth of the speakers were composed by machinery, and my speech appeared in the London morning newspapers within an hour of the time of its utterance. CHAPTER XI. FAREWELL! I went home to my house in triumph; but I had much to do before noon on the following day, but very little time in which to do it. I had spent the morning of that day in preparing for my departure, and in so arranging matters with my clerks that the entrance of Sir Ferdinando on his new duties might be easy. I had said nothing, and had endeavoured to think as little as possible, of the Fixed Period. An old secretary of mine,--old in years of work, though not as yet in age,--had endeavoured to comfort me by saying that the college up the hill might still be used before long. But I had told him frankly that we in Britannula had all been too much in a hurry, and had foolishly endeavoured to carry out a system in opposition to the world's prejudices, which system, when successful, must pervade the entire world. "And is nothing to be done with those beautiful buildings?" said the secretary, putting in the word beautiful by way of flattery to myself. "The chimneys and the furnaces may perhaps be used," I replied. "Cremation is no part of the Fixed Period. But as for the residences, the less we think about them the better." And so I determined to trouble my thoughts no further with the college. And I felt that there might be some consolation to me in going away to England, so that I might escape from the great vexation and eyesore which the empty college would have produced. But I had to bid farewell to my wife and my son, and to Eva and Crasweller. The first task would be the easier, because there would be no necessity for any painful allusion to my own want of success. In what little I might say to Mrs Neverbend on the subject, I could continue that tone of sarcastic triumph in which I had replied to Sir Ferdinando. What was pathetic in the matter I might altogether ignore. And Jack was himself so happy in his nature, and so little likely to look at anything on its sorrowful side, that all would surely go well with him. But with Eva, and with Eva's father, things would be different. Words must be spoken which would be painful in the speaking, and regrets must be uttered by me which could not certainly be shared by him. "I am broken down and trampled upon, and all the glory is departed from my name, and I have become a byword and a reproach rather than a term of honour in which future ages may rejoice, because I have been unable to carry out my long-cherished purpose by--depositing you, and insuring at least your departure!" And then Crasweller would answer me with his general kindly feeling, and I should feel at the moment of my leaving him the hollowness of his words. I had loved him the better because I had endeavoured to commence my experiment on his body. I had felt a vicarious regard for the honour which would have been done him, almost regarding it as though I myself were to go in his place. All this had received a check when he in his weakness had pleaded for another year. But he had yielded; and though he had yielded without fortitude, he had done so to comply with my wishes, and I could not but feel for the man an extraordinary affection. I was going to England, and might probably never see him again; and I was going with aspirations in my heart so very different from those which he entertained! From the hours intended for slumber, a few minutes could be taken for saying adieu to my wife. "My dear," said I, "this is all very sudden. But a man engaged in public life has to fit himself to the public demands. Had I not promised to go to-day, I might have been taken away yesterday or the day before." "Oh, John," said she, "I think that everything has been put up to make you comfortable." "Thanks; yes, I'm sure of it. When you hear my name mentioned after I am gone, I hope that they'll say of me that I did my duty as President of the republic." "Of course they will. Every day you have been at these nasty executive chambers from nine till five, unless when you've been sitting in that wretched Assembly." "I shall have a holiday now, at any rate," said I, laughing gently under the bedclothes. "Yes; and I am sure it will do you good, if you only take your meals regular. I sometimes think that you have been encouraged to dwell upon this horrid Fixed Period by the melancholy of an empty stomach." It was sad to hear such words from her lips after the two speeches to which she had listened, and to feel that no trace had been left on her mind of the triumph which I had achieved over Sir Ferdinando; but I put up with that, and determined to answer her after her own heart. "You have always provided a sandwich for me to take to the chambers." "Sandwiches are nothing. Do remember that. At your time of life you should always have something warm,--a frizzle or a cutlet, and you shouldn't eat it without thinking of it. What has made me hate the Fixed Period worse than anything is, that you have never thought of your victuals. You gave more attention to the burning of these pigs than to the cooking of any food in your own kitchen." "Well, my dear, I'm going to England now," said I, beginning to feel weary of her reminiscences. "Yes, my dear, I know you are; and do remember that as you get nearer and nearer to that chilly country the weather will always be colder and colder. I have put you up four pairs of flannel drawers, and a little bag which you must wear upon your chest. I observed that Sir Ferdinando, when he was preparing himself for his speech, showed that he had just such a little bag on. And all the time I endeavoured to spy how it was that he wore it. When I came home I immediately went to work, and I shall insist on your putting it on the first thing in the morning, in order that I may see that it sits flat. Sir Ferdinando's did not sit flat, and it looked bulgy. I thought to myself that Lady Brown did not do her duty properly by him. If you would allow me to come with you, I could see that you always put it on rightly. As it is, I know that people will say that it is all my fault when it hangs out and shows itself." Then I went to sleep, and the parting words between me and my wife had been spoken. Early on the following morning I had Jack into my dressing-room, and said good-bye to him. "Jack," said I, "in this little contest which there has been between us, you have got the better in everything." "Nobody thought so when they heard your answer to Sir Ferdinando last night." "Well, yes; I think I managed to answer him. But I haven't got the better of you." "I didn't mean anything," said Jack, in a melancholy tone of voice. "It was all Eva's doing. I never cared twopence whether the old fellows were deposited or not, but I do think that if your own time had come near, I shouldn't have liked it much." "Why not? why not? If you will only think of the matter all round, you will find that it is all a false sentiment." "I should not like it," said Jack, with determination. "Yes, you would, after you had got used to it." Here he looked very incredulous. "What I mean is, Jack, that when sons were accustomed to see their fathers deposited at a certain age, and were aware that they were treated with every respect, that kind of feeling which you describe would wear off. You would have the idea that a kind of honour was done to your parents." "When I knew that somebody was going to kill him on the next day, how would it be then?" "You might retire for a few hours to your thoughts,--going into mourning, as it were." Jack shook his head. "But, at any rate, in this matter of Mr Crasweller you have got the better of me." "That was for Eva's sake." "I suppose so. But I wish to make you understand, now that I am going to England, and may possibly never return to these shores again--" "Don't say that, father." "Well, yes; I shall have much to do there, and of course it may be that I shall not come back, and I wish you to understand that I do not part from you in the least in anger. What you have done shows a high spirit, and great devotion to the girl." "It was not quite altogether for Eva either." "What then?" I demanded. "Well, I don't know. The two things went together, as it were. If there had been no question about the Fixed Period, I do think I could have cut out Abraham Grundle. And as for Sir Kennington Oval, I am beginning to believe that that was all Eva's pretence. I like Sir Kennington, but Eva never cared a button for him. She had taken to me because I had shown myself an anti-Fixed-Period man. I did it at first simply because I hated Grundle. Grundle wanted to fix-period old Crasweller for the sake of the property; and therefore I belonged naturally to the other side. It wasn't that I liked opposing you. If it had been Tallowax that you were to begin with, or Exors, you might have burnt 'em up without a word from me." "I am gratified at hearing that." "Though the Fixed Period does seem to be horrible, I would have swallowed all that at your bidding. But you can see how I tumbled into it, and how Eva egged me on, and how the nearer the thing came the more I was bound to fight. Will you believe it?--Eva swore a most solemn oath, that if her father was put into that college she would never marry a human being. And up to that moment when the lieutenant met us at the top of the hill, she was always as cold as snow." "And now the snow is melted?" "Yes,--that is to say, it is beginning to thaw!" As he said this I remembered the kiss behind the parlour-door which had been given to her by another suitor before these troubles began, and my impression that Jack had seen it also; but on that subject I said nothing. "Of course it has all been very happy for me," Jack continued; "but I wish to say to you before you go, how unhappy it makes me to think that I have opposed you." "All right, Jack; all right. I will not say that I should not have done the same at your age, if Eva had asked me. I wish you always to remember that we parted as friends. It will not be long before you are married now." "Three months," said Jack, in a melancholy tone. "In an affair of importance of this kind, that is the same as to-morrow. I shall not be here to wish you joy at your wedding." "Why are you to go if you don't wish it?" "I promised that I would go when Captain Battleax talked of carrying me off the day before yesterday. With a hundred soldiers, no doubt he could get me on board." "There are a great many more than a hundred men in Britannula as good as their soldiers. To take a man away by force, and he the President of the republic! Such a thing was never heard of. I would not stir if I were you. Say the word to me, and I will undertake that not one of these men shall touch you." I thought of his proposition; and the more I thought of it, the more unreasonable it did appear that I, who had committed no offence against any law, should be forced on board the John Bright. And I had no doubt that Jack would be as good as his word. But there were two causes which persuaded me that I had better go. I had pledged my word. When it had been suggested that I should at the moment be carried on board,--which might no doubt then have been done by the soldiers,--I had said that if a certain time were allowed me I would again be found in the same place. If I were simply there, and were surrounded by a crowd of Britannulans ready to fight for me, I should hardly have kept my promise. But a stronger reason than this perhaps actuated me. It would be better for me for a while to be in England than in Britannula. Here in Britannula I should be the ex-President of an abolished republic, and as such subject to the notice of all men; whereas in England I should be nobody, and should escape the constant mortification of seeing Sir Ferdinando Brown. And then in England I could do more for the Fixed Period than at home in Britannula. Here the battle was over, and I had been beaten. I began to perceive that the place was too small for making the primary efforts in so great a cause. The very facility which had existed for the passing of the law through the Assembly had made it impossible for us to carry out the law; and therefore, with the sense of failure strong upon me, I should be better elsewhere than at home. And the desire of publishing a book in which I should declare my theory,--this very book which I have so nearly brought to a close,--made me desire to go. What could I do by publishing anything in Britannula? And though the manuscript might have been sent home, who would see it through the press with any chance of success? Now I have my hopes, which I own seem high, and I shall be able to watch from day to day the way in which my arguments in favour of the Fixed Period are received by the British public. Therefore it was that I rejected Jack's kind offer. "No, my boy," said I, after a pause, "I do not know but that on the whole I shall prefer to go." "Of course if you wish it." "I shall be taken there at the expense of the British public, which is in itself a triumph, and shall, I presume, be sent back in the same way. If not, I shall have a grievance in their parsimony, which in itself will be a comfort to me; and I am sure that I shall be treated well on board. Sir Ferdinando with his eloquence will not be there, and the officers are, all of them, good fellows. I have made up my mind, and I will go. The next that you will hear of your father will be the publication of a little book that I shall write on the journey, advocating the Fixed Period. The matter has never been explained to them in England, and perhaps my words may prevail." Jack, by shaking his head mournfully, seemed to indicate his idea that this would not be the case; but Jack is resolute, and will never yield on any point. Had he been in my place, and had entertained my convictions, I believe that he would have deposited Crasweller in spite of Sir Ferdinando Brown and Captain Battleax. "You will come and see me on board, Jack, when I start." "They won't take me off, will they?" "I should have thought you would have liked to have seen England." "And leave Eva! They'd have to look very sharp before they could do that. But of course I'll come." Then I gave him my blessing, told him what arrangements I had made for his income, and went down to my breakfast, which was to be my last meal in Britannula. When that was over, I was told that Eva was in my study waiting to see me. I had intended to have gone out to Little Christchurch, and should still do so, to bid farewell to her father. But I was not sorry to have Eva here in my own house, as she was about to become my daughter-in-law. "Eva has come to bid you good-bye," said Jack, who was already in the room, as I entered it. "Eva, my dear," said I. "I'll leave you," said Jack. "But I've told her that she must be very fond of you. Bygones have to be bygones,--particularly as no harm has been done." Then he left the room. She still had on the little round hat, but as Jack went she laid it aside. "Oh, Mr Neverbend," she said, "I hope you do not think that I have been unkind." "It is I, my dear, who should express that hope." "I have always known how well you have loved my dear father. I have been quite sure of it. And he has always said so. But--" "Well, Eva, it is all over now." "Oh yes, and I am so happy! I have got to tell you how happy I am." "I hope you love Jack." "Oh!" she exclaimed, and in a moment she was in my arms and I was kissing her. "If you knew how I hate that Mr Grundle; and Jack is all,--all that he ought to be. One of the things that makes me like him best is his great affection for you. There is nothing that he would not do for you." "He is a very good young man," said I, thinking of the manner in which he had spoken against me on the Town Flags. "Nothing!" said Eva. "And nothing that he would not do for you, my dear. But that is all as it should be. He is a high-spirited, good boy; and if he will

period,--and

How many times the word 'period,--and' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

please

How many times the word 'please' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

trouble

How many times the word 'trouble' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

everything

How many times the word 'everything' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

sides

How many times the word 'sides' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

deserted

How many times the word 'deserted' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

redress

How many times the word 'redress' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

serious

How many times the word 'serious' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

folle

How many times the word 'folle' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

menacingly

How many times the word 'menacingly' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

mirrors

How many times the word 'mirrors' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

girlfriends

How many times the word 'girlfriends' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

frenchy

How many times the word 'frenchy' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

ear

How many times the word 'ear' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

bum

How many times the word 'bum' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

pocket

How many times the word 'pocket' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

twice

How many times the word 'twice' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

took

How many times the word 'took' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

endeavour

How many times the word 'endeavour' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

andy

How many times the word 'andy' appears in the text?

zebra-striped banquettes and bar stools, past sharpy BUSINESSMEN, BOOKMAKERS and HOODS. HENRY (V.O.) There was Jimmy and Tommy and me. And there was Anthony Stabile, Angelo Sepe, Fat Andy, Frankie the Wop, Freddy No Nose, Pete the Killer, Nicky Blanda, Mikey Franzese, and Johnny Echoes, who got that nickname because he said everything twice. Like*, "You wanna get the papers, get the papers." CAMERA TRACKS to the backroom which WE SEE is filled with racks of clothes, boxed television sets, new toaster ovens and stereos. WE SEE MAN rolling racks of fur coats into the room which looks like a discount store warehouse. MAN (to Sonny) Sonny, we got the coats. SONNY (ignoring the man, and to Henry) You got any suits? HENRY Not till Thursday. SONNY (closing door to backroom) I need suits. CUT TO: HENRY, JIMMY, TOMMY, AND ASSORTED HOODS AND THEIR GIRLFRIENDS are having a party. There are champagne buckets around the table which is littered with steak and lobster dishes. The table is a mess and everyone is laughing. WE SEE HENRY look at his watch and look at the lounge's entrance. HENRY (V.O.) For us to live any other way was nuts. To us, those goody-good people who worked shitty jobs for bum paychecks, who took the subway to work every day and worried about their bills, were dead. They were suckers. They had no balls. If we wanted something, we just took it. If anyone complained twice, they got hit so bad they never complained again. It was routine. You didn't even think about it. CUT TO: DOORWAY or BAMBOO LOUNGE WE SEE FRENCHY MCMAHON, a beefy man in a leather wind-breaker, enter. WE SEE HENRY get up and go over to greet him. CUT TO: THE BAR HENRY and FRENCHY embrace. FRENCHY is still wearing his Air France cargo worker's - coveralls under his leather jacket and WE SEE the "Air France" logo and the name "Frenchy" in script over the coverall's breast pocket. FRENCHY (trying to whisper above the din) It's all there. I can get you past the alarms and I can get the key. WE SEE HENRY torn to table and wave at JIMMY to join the at the bar. CUT TO: THE TABLE WE SEE JIMMY get up and go to the bar. WE SEE TOMMY at the table with SONNY BAMBOO, the owner, hovering around. SONNY BAMBOO is holding a thick sheaf of bills. WE SEE SONNY timidly approach TOMMY by whispering in his ear. In the BG, WE ALSO SEE the face of a terrified WAITER. TOMMY (putting his arm around Sonny's shoulder) It's okay. Put it on the tab. SONNY (whispering with fear a11 over his face) Tommy, it's not just this. Tommy, please. It's seven grand here. WE SEE TOMMY just stare menacingly at SONNY. SONNY (he started, he might as well finish) Tommy, I need the money, Tommy, please. I owe the world. TOMMY (leaping from the table in a rage) You Sonofabitch fuck. Are you calling me a deadbeat? The money I spent here? Embarrassing me in front of my friends. You miserable fuck. (turning to his pals) Can you believe this bastard? (back to a terrified Sonny) Ungrateful fuck! I oughta break your fucking legs! WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO flee toward his office, with TOMMY making a half-hearted gesture to follow, but instead, he walks over and joins HENRY, JIMMY and FRENCHY at the bar. He is smiling. FRENCHY (to Tommy) Hey, Tommy. Have a drink. INT. BACKROOM - CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE SONNY BAMBOO meekly seated at table facing PAUL VARIO. HENRY is standing behind SONNY BAMBOO for support. VARIO (groaning) If you knew those fucking kids. They're nuts. Especially that Tommy. What am I going to do with them? SONNY (sweating) But I'm worried. I'm hearing all kinds of things. Paulie. You know me all my life. I've always done the right thing. VARIO You think that matters? You think they give a shit about anything? The little bastards. SONNY But it isn't right, Paulie. That Tommy, he's making trouble for me all over town. I can't go here. I can't go there. VARIO You? You think you're the only one? I've talked to them a million times, but they don't listen. SONNY (weakly) But, Paulie, please. VARIO (barely listening) Someday they'll get what's coming to them. That's the only way they'll stop. SONNY (pleading) Paulie, I swear, I'm afraid. The guy's nuts. What do I have to do? Whatever I gotta do, I'll do. VARIO (arms outstretched like a saint) What can I do? If I could do something, don't you think I would? SONNY looks up at HENRY for support. HENRY (to Sonny) Tell him. It's okay. VARIO What? SONNY I was thinking that maybe you could come in with me. Take a piece of the place. If you were with me, maybe than they'd have to lay off. VASIO What, do I need ... SONNY (interrupting) I mean it. We could do good. VARIO You want a partner? SONNY Please? EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - OUTSIDE - DAY WE SEE trucks with liquor, beer, sides of beef, even furniture like bar stools and large mirrors being unloaded and delivered into the front door. HENRY (V.O.) Now the guy's got Paulie for a partner. Any problems, he goes to Paulie. Trouble with the bill? He can go to Paulie. Trouble with the cops? Deliveries? Tommy? He can call Paulie. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - DAY WE SEE HENRY AND TWO HOODS from cabstand checking the cases of liquor being delivered into the lounge. The entire room is filled floor to ceiling with cases of whiskey, wine, crates of lobster, and shrimp, and stacks of table linen and sides of beef. The place looks like a warehouse. HENRY (V.O.) But now the guy has got to come up with Paulie 's money every week, no matter what. Business bad? Fuck you, pay me. You had a fire? Fuck you, pay ma. The place got hit by lighting? Fuck you, pay me. Also, Paulie could do anything. Especially run up bills on the joint's credit. Why not? Nobody's gonna pay for it anyway. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - REAR ALLEYWAY - DAY WE SEE cases of liquor, wine, etc., being carried out of the rear door of the lounge by HOODS from the cabstand and loaded onto U-Haul trucks. HENRY (V.O.) As soon as the deliveries are made in the front door, you move the stuff out the back and sell it at a discount. You take a two hundred dollar case of booze and sell it for a hundred. It doesn't matter. It's all profit. INT. BAMBOO LOUNGE OFFICE HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY are standing around the small workman's table. There is no desk. The office looks denuded of furniture. A LAWYER is going over papers. A terrified, unshaven SONNY BAMBOO is seated behind the desk. The LAWYER is showing him where to sign. HENRY (V.O.) And, finally, when there's nothing 1 left, when you can't borrow another buck from the bank or buy another case of booze, you bust the joint out. CUT DIRECTLY TO: LARGE CLOSE UP OF - HANDS making rolls of toilet paper being kneaded into long rolls with Sterno. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY shoving wads of Sterno paper into the ceiling rafters. HENRY (V.O.) You light a match. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - MATCH Lighting rolls of Sterno paper. EXT. BAMBOO LOUNGE - CURBSIDE - NIGHT The street is empty. HENRY and TOMMY are seated in HENRY'S car. They are watching the Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (to Henry) You gotta help me. Okay? This girl I told you about? Diana? She's from the Five Towns. She's Jewish. She won't go out with me alone. Can you believe this shit? She's fucking prejudiced, but she's built. She's never been out with an Italian before. She says she'll only go out on a double date with her girlfriend. You believe this shit? But you gotta see her. I mean, she's beautiful. HENRY (laughing) Will you get the fuck out of here. TOMMY Is it my fault she won't go out without her girlfriend? For Chrissake. Come on. You don't even have to stay. Jeesuz! What's the big deal? HENRY Tommy ... CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY watching smoke coming out of basement windows of Bamboo Lounge. TOMMY (O.S.) (back to conversation) I swear you don't have to do nothing. You just show up and then leave. What do you think, I want you around? All I need is for you to get me started. We hear car angina start. INT. A QUIET PLUSH BANQUETTE IN THE VILLA CAPRA A red damask restaurant. TOMMY and HENRY are seated on the outside of a U-shaped banquette with their two girls, DIANE and KAREN, seated inside. DIANE is being wooed and pawed by a blissful TOMMY. DIANE is enjoying every bit of TOMMY'S undivided attention. KAREN has not touched her melted baked Alaska and is looking directly at HENRY. HENRY is stirring his coffee. HENRY (V.O.) I had a meeting with Tuddy around eleven o'clock and here I am a back-up guy. KAREN (sarcastically) Have more coffee. It'll wake you up. HENRY (V.O.) I couldn't wait to get away. I was ordering the dessert when they were eating dinner. When they were having coffee, I was asking for a check. TOMMY (to Henry, while hugging Diana) Isn't she great? Isn't this great? Let's do it tomorrow night? Okay? KAREN (V.O.) I couldn't stand him. I thought he was really obnoxious. He kept fidgeting around. EXT. RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT WE SEE HENRY pushing KAREN Into the car. KAREN (V.O.) Before it was even time to go home he was pushing me into the car ... EXT. CURBSIDE - KAREN'S HOUSE - WE SEE HENRY hurrying KAREN out of the car. KAREN (V.O.) ... and then pulling me out. It was ridiculous. But Diana and Tommy had made us promise to meet them again on Friday night. We agreed. Of course, when Friday night came around, Henry stood me up. INT. VILLA CAPRA RESTAURANT - NIGHT WE SEE TOMMY, DIANE and KAREN seated at a table set for four. KAREN (V.O.) We were a trio instead of double- date that night, but I made Tommy take me looking for him. EXT. CABSTAND SIDEWALK - NIGHT A hot night. The HOODS have moved to the sidewalk where WE SEE them sitting in sleeveless underwear, watching the street. WE SEE HENRY leave the cabstand when suddenly a car screeches up on the sidewalk directly in front of him. The HOODS scatter and WE SEE that HENRY is terrified. KAREN (charging out of the door, screaming) You've got some nerve. Standing me up. Nobody does that to me. Who do you think you are? A big shot? CUT TO: HENRY who sees TOMMY and DIANE in the car, laughing. HENRY (embarrassed and defensive) I didn't know, I swear. I thought it was next week. KAREN Liar! CUT TO: HENRY Who sees the WISEGUYS laughing. HENRY Take it easy. We can talk about it. HENRY (V.O.) She's screaming on the street and I mean loud, but she looked good. She had these violet eyes. I remember she's screaming, but mostly I'm looking at her eyes. They were just like Elizabeth Taylor's. That's what everybody said. KAREN (furious) Talk? To you? After what you did! HENRY I thought you were going to stand me up. You looked bored. You didn't say anything. What did you expect. Tommy was all over me. Right? WE SEE KAREN relax for a second. HENRY Come on, let me make it up. INT. ENTRY TO KAREN'S SUBURBAN HOME - EVENING ANGLE ON GOLD CROSS AROUND MAN'S NECK and TILT UP. HENRY is all smiles and slicked-up. Standing in the door wearing a grey suit and open-necked black silk shirt with a gold cross and chain. KAREN (filled with alarm) Button year shirt, quick! Hurry HENRY buttons his shirt as KAREN'S MOTHER comes to the door. KAREN Ma, this is my friend, Henry Hill. MOTHER My daughter says you're half-Jewish? EXT. COPACABANA - NIGHT HENRY gives the keys and a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill to the DOORMAN at the building across the street and steers KAREN toward the Copa. KAREN What're you doing? What about the car? HENRY (while pushing her through the crowd waiting to get in) He watches it for me. It's better than waiting at a garage. HE SEE HENRY deftly steer KAREN away from the Copa's main entrance and down the basement steps. A HUGE BODYGUARD, eating a sandwich in the stairwell, gives HENRY a big "Hello." WE SEE HENRY walk right through the basement kitchen, which is filled with CHINESE and LATINO COOKS and DISHWASHERS who pay no attention. KAREN is being dragged along, open-mouthed, at the scene. HENRY starts up a stained kitchen staircase through a pair of swinging doors and suddenly KAREN sees she is inside the main room. The harried MAITRE D' (he is surrounded by CUSTOMERS clamoring for their tables) waves happily at HENRY and signals to a CAPTAIN. WE SEE a table held aloft by TWO WAITERS wedging their way toward the stage and plant the table smack in front of what had until that moment been a ringside table. As HENRY leads KAREN to their seat, she sees that he is nodding and shaking hands with MANY of the OTHER GUESTS. WE SEE HENRY quietly slip twenty-dollar-bills to the WAITERS. KAREN (sitting down) You gave them twenty dollars each? WE SEE the CAPTAIN approach with champagne. CAPTAIN This is from Mister Tony, over there. HENRY Where, over there? CAPTAIN Over there, over there. KAREN watches HENRY turn around and wave at a 280-POUND HOOD. KAREN What do you do? HENRY (toasting Karen and clinking glasses) I'm in construction. KAREN (taking his hands) They don't feel like you're in construction. HENRY turns to the stage where the lights begin to dim and BENNY YOUNGMAN walks out. HENRY I'm a union delegate. EXT. AIR FRANCE CARGO AREA - NIGHT On loading platform HE SEE HENRY and TOMMY dressed in Air France coveralls. HENRY is carrying a large suitcase. Suddenly WE SEE FRENCHY McMAHON come through a door, slip HENRY a key and lead them back into the office area near the entrance. HENRY goes to the door marked "SECURITY AREA" that FRENCHY points out and opens it with the key. HENRY and TOMMY go inside. CUT TO: HENRY AND TOMMY coming out with the suitcase, close the door and walk right past FRENCHY without saying a word. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - NIGHT WE SEE the suitcase open on the desk. WE SEE VARIO, JIMMY, HENRY and TOMMY standing around, wreathed in smiles. HENRY is counting stacks of cash, spreading them all over the desk. HENRY (V.O.) Air France made me. We walked out with four hundred and twenty thousand dollars without a gun. And we did the right thing. HENRY counts up $420,000 and slides ten packages of $l00- bills in front of VARIO who stands up and proudly kisses HENRY on the cheek. JIMMY and TOMMY, both aglow with the moment, look on. It is clear that HENRY has come of age. CUT TO: HENRY'S FACE VARIO (to Henry) It's a lot of money for a kid. If anyone asks, just say you won it shooting crap. EXT. BEACH CLUB - DAY HENRY and KAREN are at a sun-drenched table after paper- cup and paper-plate lunch where HENRY is trying to pay cash. KAREN (touching Henry's arm) No. No. You've got to sign for it. WE SEE athletic YOUNG MEN and WOMEN in white clothe* carrying tennis and squash rackets walk by. One young man, BRUCE, says hello to KAREN. She introduces him to HENRY. CUT TO: KAREN (after Bruce walks on) He lives across the street. CUT TO: CHAMPAGNE being sent to table. INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT CAMERA PANS to stage where WE SEE SINGER'S back and HENRY and KAREN at a luxurious ringside table with linen, silver, and crystal. KAREN (V.O.) One night Billy Daniels sent us champagne. There was nothing like it. I didn't think that there was anything strange in any of this -- you know, a twenty-one-year-old kid with such connections. CUT TO: INT. HENRY'S CAR - DAWN HENRY and KAREN are sipping champagne from Copa glasses in car parked outside her house. KAREN (V.O.) He was an exciting guy. He was really nice. He introduced me to everybody. Everybody wanted to be nice to him. And he knew how to handle it. CUT TO: INT. MARTY KRUGMAN'S QUEENS BOUEVARD WIG AND BEAUTY SALON - DAY ANGLE ON MARTY'S TELEVISION COMMERCIAL WE SEE MARTY swimming the length of a pool, surrounded by adoring MODELS in bathing suits. MARTY'S TV (V.O.) They'll stay put even in a typhoon. And I should know. I'm the president of the company." WE SEE MARTY and HENRY standing near television set commercial is repeated over and over. MARTY is taking bets on the phone and complaining to HENRY. WE SEE an agitated JIMMY BURKE in BG poking at wigs and looking toward HENRY and MARTY MARTY. (complaining sotto voice to Henry while taking bets on the phone) Jimmy's busting my chops. (into phone) Okay, give 'em eight to five on Cleveland. (hangs up phone and to Henry, while nervously eyeing in the other room) He wants three points over the vig. From me? I don't believe this shit? HENRY (pleading) Marty. Please. You know Jimmy. You borrowed his money. Pay 'em. MARTY (so outraged his voice gets loader) I didn't agree to three points over the vig.- What am I nuts? I didn't need it that much. HENRY (getting exasperated) What are you gonna do? Fight with him? He wants his money. MAJKTY Fuck 'em. I never paid points. I always did the right thing. Did I ever bust his balls? Did I? Did I? I could have dropped a dime a million times, and I wouldn't have had to pay dick. HENRY (getting annoyed) Marty, you're talking crazy. Drop a dime? Call the cops? Don't even let anybody hear such bullshit. Hey don't you just pay the man his money and shut the fuck up. WE SEE JIMMY in BG start toward HENRY and MARTY when he hears HENRY raise his voice. WE SEE JIMMY come up behind MARTY and wrap the long telephone extension cord around MARTY's neck. WE SEE MARTY's eyes begin to pop. WE SEE HENRY try to get his hands between the wire and MARTY's neck while trying to get JIMMY to stop. JIMMY (total fury) You got money for your bullshit television, don't you? I gotta watch you swimming back and forth on TV all night long, don't I? You got money for that, but you don't have my money? HENRY Jimmy. He'll be okay. He's good for it. Relax. WE SEE MARTY nodding in agreement that he will pay. Suddenly, the phone rings. WE SEE JIMMY, HENRY and MARTY frozen for a second. WE SEE JIMMY relax the cord. WE SEE MARTY pick up the phone. The extension cord is still loosely wrapped around his neck. MARTY (handing Henry the phone) It's for you. HENRY takes the phone. HENRY (fury crosses his face) Wait there. HENRY races out the door, leaving MARTY and JIMMY docilely looking after him as he runs out the door. EXT. ROADSIDE TELEPHONE BOOTH ON HIGHWAY WE SEE KAREN waiting at booth as HENRY pulls up. INT. HENRY'S CAR KAREN (crying and disheveled) I've known him all my life. He just started grabbing at me. He wouldn't stop. And when I hit him across the nose with my shoe, he got mad and shoved me over. EXT. KAREN'S PARENTS HOUSE HENRY's car is parked at the curb. A new red Corvette is parked across the street. HENRY Go inside. I'll be right there. KAREN What are you gonna do? HENRY Get inside! When KAREN gets out of the car, WE SEE HENRY reach under the seat for a snub-nose .38 revolver. EXT. CORVETTE DRIVEWAY WE SEE HENRY walk down driveway to the backyard area where BRUCE and TWO of his BROTHERS are talking. BRUCE sees HENRY and walks toward him. BRUCE'S TWO BROTHERS are smirking. BRUCE What do you want? They get closer. BRUCE (annoyed and menacing) Hey! Fucko! You want something? With absolutely no warning, HENRY reaches out and grabs BRUCE's hair with one hand and pulls his gun out of his waistband with the other. In almost one motion, HENRY Smashes the gun across BRUCE's face. Teeth fall from BRUCE's mouth. The TWO BROTHERS, still not seeing the gun, start toward HENRY, but HENRY continues to pound the gun into BRUCE'S face like a dinner gong. BRUCE's head is still off the ground only because HENRY refuses to let go of his hair. BRUCE'S BROTHERS realize HENRY has a gun. They freeze and back off. WOMAN'S VOICE (from a window) HELP! Police! He's got a gun! Police! Quick! Murder! HENRY drops BRUCE to the ground. EXT. KAREN'S DRIVEWAY WE SEE KAREN standing at the side door as HENRY races up and puts something in her hand. HENRY (panting) Here, hold this. WE SEE KAREN look down. CUT TO: KAREN'S HAND holding gun. CLOSE UP - GUN KAREN (V.O.) I know there are women, like my best friends, who would have gotten out of there the minute their boyfriend gave them a gun to hide. "Fha! You and your gun. Get out of here, who needs you?" That's what they would have said to him. But I didn't. I've got to admit the truth. It turned me on. WE SEE KAREN look around to make sure no one else has seen her. She then leans over and hides the gun in the milk box at her feet. INT. KAREN'S PARENTS' HOUSE WE SEE hands carefully wrapping a white linen table napkin around some object. WE SEE the napkin and object placed on the fleer. WE SEE a MAN's heel cone down and smash the object:, which turns out to be a wine glass. We are at a small Jewish living room wedding with a canopy and RABBI and it was HENRY who broke the glass as a part of the ritual. KAREN'S PARENTS are glumly looking on. HENRY'S PARENTS are even glummer. Only MICHAEL, HENRY's brother in the wheelchair, looks pleased. INT. CHATEAU BLEU CATERING HALL PAULIE VARIO, FRENCHY, MARTY KRUGMAN, TOMMY DESIMONE, and ALL of their WIVES and FIANCEES are present. PAN from HENRY'S and KAREN'S PARENTS sitting uneasily at different tables. JUMP CUTS TO PAUL VARIO presiding at a sort of line, introducing KAREN to the VARIO FAMILY and GUESTS. HENRY stands behind KAREN, smiling proudly. KAREN (V.O.) It was like he had two families. The first time I was introduced to them all at once, it was crazy. Paulie and his brothers had lots of sons and nephews and almost all of them were named Peter or Paul. It was unbelievable. There must have been two dozen Peters and Pauls at the wedding. Plus, they were all married to girls named Marie, and they named all their daughters Marie. By the time I finished meeting everybody. I thought I was drunk. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN'S TABLE Seated nearby are a beaming JIMMY BURKE and his wife, MICKEY BURKE. WE SEE VARIO approach and hand KAREN an envelope. VARIO Here. This is for you. KAREN (looking down at the envelope) Paulie, you shouldn't. WE SEE that VARIO's envelope is richly embossed with hearts and flowers and has a clear window in front through which she can see several neatly-folded hundred, dollar bills. When KAREN looks up, she sees that EVERY WISEGUY and his WIFE are lined up before her and that they are ALL holding envelopes with clear windows in front. CUT TO: KAREN perspiring a little as she accepts and thanks the DOZENS OF WISEGUYS giving her the envelopes. WE ALSO SEE HENRY has opened a plastic supermarket shopping bag under the table where he is stuffing the envelopes just as soon as KAREN accepts them. CUT TO: HENRY AND KAREN getting up to dance. KAREN (whispering) My bag. My bag. HENRY (amused) What bag? KAREN (desperate) The bag with the envelopes. HENRY (chiding) Oh that. Don't worry about that. Nobody's gonna steal it. INT. KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAWN WE SEE KAREN propped up, awake, in a chair. Her FATHER is seated on a sofa, asleep. KAREN'S MOTHER is looking out the window. KAREN'S MOTHER He didn't call? KAREN He's with his friends. KAREN'S MOTHER What kind of person doesn't call? KAREN He's a grown man. Be doesn't have to call every five minutes. KAREN'S MOTHER If he was so grown up he'd get you two an apartment. KAREN Don't bring that up. You're the one who wanted us here. KAREN'S MOTHER (ignoring the charge) Look. He's got the whole house in an uproar. CUT TO: FATHER dozing on sofa. KAREN'S MOTHER He's got your father upset. Good thing he doesn't have to go to work in the morning. Is this what he deserves? KAREN Ma! Please! You're driving me crazy. KAREN'S MOTHER Driving you crazy? Don't get me started. You're here a month and sometimes I know he doesn't come home at all. What kind of people are these? KAREN Ma! Stop! What do you want me to do? KAREN'S MOTHER Do? What can you do? What did you expect? He wasn't Jewish. Did you know bow they live? Your father would never stay out this late without calling. In thirty years he never stayed out all night. CUT TO: FATHER SLEEPING ON SOFA KAREN Stayed out? Daddy never went out at all. DISSOLVE TO: TITLE UP - 6:30 A.M. We hear car door open in front of house. CUT TO: KAREN AND KAREN'S MOTHER open the door together and WE SEE HENRY standing in doorway, a little drunk. Behind HENRY WE SEE a car with TOMMY DESIMONE still parked at the curb. KAREN is happy to see him. She smiles. KAREN'S MOTHER (angrily) Where were you? Where have you been? Why didn't you call? We were all worried to death! A married man doesn't stay out like this! WE SEE HENRY look at KAREN, look at KAREN'S MOTHER and turn around and get back in the car and drive away. KAREN BEGINS TO CRY. KAREN'S FATHER sleepily comes to the door. KAREN'S MOTHER (as Henry drives away) Normal people don't live this way. INT. LIVING ROOM - JIMMY AND MICKEY'S ARCHIE-BUNKER HOUSE - NIGHT KAREN and MOST of the WOMEN we saw at the wedding are at MICKEY's cosmetic party. There are large cardboard posters of glamorous models using the cosmetic's at MICKEY'S feet. KAREN (V.O.) We weren't married to nine-to-five guys, but the first time I realized how different was when Mickey had a hostess party. CUT TO: MICKEY Brushing another woman, ANGIE's, hair while showing off a new brush. MICKEY (to Angie) Angie, sweetheart, you want it fluff? CUT TO: ANGIE'S TIRED FACE black-ringed eyes and thin mouth. ANGIE He's the one with the hands. I'd like to smack his face. WOMAN #1 The red-haired guy? He looks a like a farmer? ANGIE Sonofabitch. I swear. You can't go through the gate without his hands. I told him. Keep' your fucking hands off, you Sonofabitch, or I'll cut them off. WE SEE the WOMEN laugh. ANGIE) He don't know bow lucky he is. It I just mentioned it to Vince, I don't even want to know. WOMAN #1 That's the problem. How can you mention it? Vince 'd kill him. ANGIE You think I don't know? You think I like to keep this inside? But I gotta, or he'll kill the miserable bastard and he'll be there for life. It's disgusting what you have to put up with. MICKEY (while fluffing Angle's hair) Look at Jeannie's kid. ANGIE What? What happened? MICKEY The oldest one. He was in an argument. A lousy ten-dollar card game. The kid pulls out a gun. It goes off. The kid gets killed. The grandmother hears it and finds out he's been arrested. She has a heart attack. She drops dead right on the spot. Now Jeannie's got a husband and son in jail and a mother in the funeral parlor. ANGIE But he was always a bad kid, that one. MICKEY No. Come on. It was the younger one that was the bad one. KAREN (V.O.) (continuing over dialogue) They had bad skin and wore too much makeup. I mean they didn't look very good. They looked beat- up. CLOSE UP - WOMEN Talking. KAREN (V.O.) You never saw teeth like that where I was growing up and the stuff they wore was thrown together and cheap. A lot of pants suits and double-knits. And they talked about how rotten their kids were and about beating them with broom handles and leather belts, but that the kids still didn't pay any attention. When Henry picked me up, I was dizzy. INT. BEDROOM - KAREN'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT WE SEE they are getting ready for bed. KAREN I Don't know. I don't know if I could live that way. What if, God forbid, you go to prison. Mickey said Jeannie's husband -- HENRY (angrily interrupting) Are you nuts? Jeannie's husband went to the can just to get away from her, she's such a pain in the ass. Let me tell you. Nobody goes to jail unless they want to, unless they make themselves get caught. They do stuff with the wrong people. They don't have things organized. You know who goes to jail? Nigger stickup men. That's who. And they only get caught because they fall asleep in the getaway car. KAREN looks down. She listening. HENRY Listen, we're beginning to make

low

How many times the word 'low' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

shines

How many times the word 'shines' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

suit

How many times the word 'suit' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

arms

How many times the word 'arms' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

nergiquement

How many times the word 'nergiquement' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

hey

How many times the word 'hey' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

floor

How many times the word 'floor' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

blood

How many times the word 'blood' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

followed

How many times the word 'followed' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

your

How many times the word 'your' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

girl

How many times the word 'girl' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

guerre

How many times the word 'guerre' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

welcome

How many times the word 'welcome' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

legs

How many times the word 'legs' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

sergio

How many times the word 'sergio' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

suivante

How many times the word 'suivante' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

overdecorated

How many times the word 'overdecorated' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

moments

How many times the word 'moments' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

wishes

How many times the word 'wishes' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

baits

How many times the word 'baits' appears in the text?

GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese GOOD FELLAS by Nicholas Pileggi and Martin Scorcese Based on the book Wiseguys by Nicholas Pileggi Shooting Draft January 3, 1989 Revised 1/12/89 FADE IN: JUNE 11, 1970S QUEENS, NEW YORK. THE SUITE - NIGHT A smoky, overdecorated cocktail lounge and nightclub on Queens Boulevard. Sergio Franchi is in full voice on the jukebox. It is after midnight. It has bean a long night.. Balloons and empty glasses litter the place. BILLY BATTS, a 50-year-old hood in an out-of-date suit, court at the bar. WE SEE a younger, more sharply-dressed HOOD walk in with a BEEHIVE GIRLFRIEND and hug BATTS. HOOD Billy. You look beautiful. Welcome home. BAITS (laughing and turning to the bartender) What are you having? Give 'em what they're drinking. WE SEE FOUR OTHER MEN, including HENRY HILL and JIMMY BURKE, standing near BILLY BATTS at the bar, raise their glasses in salute. TOMMY DESIMONE and ANOTHER BEEHIVE BLONDE enter. BILLY BATTS looks up and sees TOMMY. BILLY Hey, look at him. Tommy. You grew up. TOMMY (preening a little) Billy, how are you? BILLY (smiling broadly at Tommy and the girl) Son of a bitch. Get over here. TOMMY walks over and BILLY, too aggressively, grabs TOMMY around the neck. TOMMY doesn't like it. TOMMY (forcing a laugh) Hey, Billy. Watch the suit. BILLY (squeezing Tommy's cheek, a little too hard) Listen to him. "Watch the suit," he says. A little pisser I've known all my life. Hey, Tommy, don't go get too big. TOMMY Don't go busting my balls. Okay? BILLY (laughing, to the crowd at the bar) Busting his balls? (to Tommy) If I was busting your balls, I'd send you home for your shine box. TOMMY'S smile turns to a glare as he realizes BILLY is making fun of him. The Men at the bar are roaring with laughter. His GIRL is looking glumly at her shoes. BILLY (to the hoods at the bar) You remember Tommy's shines? The kid was great. He made mirrors. TOMMY (almost a threat) No more shines, Billy. BILLY Come ooonnn. Tommeeee. We're only kidding. You can't take a joke? Come ooonn. WE SEE that TOMMY is still angry, but begins to relax with BILLY'S apparent apology, but as soon as BILLY sees that TOMMY is beginning to relax, he contemptuously turns his back on TOMMY. BILLY (facing the bar) Now get the hell home and get your shine box. HENRY quickly steps in front of TOMMY who is about to explode. BATTS is facing the bar and does not see just how furious TOMMY has become. HENRY (gently wrestling Tommy away from the bar) Come on, relax. He's drunk. He's been locked up for six years. TOMMY I don't give a shit. That guy's got no right. HENRY Tommy. He. doesn't mean anything. Forget about it. TOMMY (trying to wrestle past Henry) He's insulting me. Rat bastard. He's never been any fuckin' good. HENRY Tommy. Come on. Relax. TOMMY (to Henry) Keep him here. I'm going for a bag. TOMMY roughly grabs his GIRL'S arm and storms out. HENRY (rejoining Jimmy and Billy Batts at the bar) Batts. I'm sorry. Tommy gets loaded. He doesn't mean any disrespect. BATTS He's got a hot head. WE SEE the LAST TWO GUESTS get up to leave. HENRY puts another dollar in the jukebox and moves back behind the bar and starts to total the register receipts. CUT TO: From HENRY'S POV behind the bar, WE SEE the GUESTS leave and suddenly WE SEE TOMMY in the doorway. HENRY walks around the bar and approaches TOMMY. WE SEE JIMMY and BATTS are still seated at bar with their backs to the door. BATTS They're fucking mutts. WE SEE JIMMY nod. BUTTS I seen them. They walk around like big shots and they don't know shit. JIMMY A guy gets half a load on. He mouths off. BATTS When I was a kid, I swear on my mother, you mouth off, you got your fucking legs broke. CUT TO: HENRY Approaching TOMMY who is carrying a large folded package under one arm. TOMMY, followed by HENRY, walks over to the bar where JIMMY and BILLY BATTS are talking. TOMMY drops the package on the floor. BILLY BATTS looks up. JIMMY turns around and sees that TOMMY has a gun in his hand. JIMMY immediately grabs BATTS's arms and WE SEE TOMMY smash the gun into the side of BATTS's head. WE SEE TOMMY hit BATTS again and again as JIMMY continues to hold BATTS's arms. JIMMY (to Henry, while pinning Batts's arms) Quick! Lock the door. WE SEE TOMMY club BATTS to the ground with JIMMY holding BATTS's arms. CUT TO: HENRY locking the door. CUT TO: BATTS'S INERT FORM - on the floor. WE SEE TOMMY unfold the package he had dropped near the bar. It is a plastic, flower-printed mattress cover. TOMMY and JIMMY start putting BAITS's legs into the mattress cover. HENRY is standing over them as JIMMY and TOMMY struggle to fit BAITS' s body into the mattress cover. HENRY What are we going to do with him? We can't dump him in the street. JIMMY (to Henry) Bring the car round back. I know a place Upstate they'll never find him. TOMMY is looking brightly at HENRY, as he and JIMMY finally zip BATTS in the mattress cover. TOMMY I didn't want to get blood on your floor. EXT. REAR DRIVEWAY - THE SUITE - NIGHT Darkness. The open trunk of HENRY 's car. The mattress cover is being shoved into the trunk by the THREE MEN. It is heavy work. HENRY Batts's made. His whole crew is going to be looking for him. This is fucking bad. TOMMY There's a shovel at my mother's. INT. TOMMY'S MOTHER'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT Darkness in the kitchen. We hear noise of doors opening and tools being banged around in the dark. TOMMY SSHHH. You'll wake 'er up. Suddenly the light in the entryway goes on, and WE SEE TOMMY'S MOTHER, in housecoat, beaming at her SON and his FRIENDS. CUT TO: where TOMMY'S MOTHER' hovers over the seated TOMMY, HENRY and JIMMY. The table is filled with plates and coffee cops and the debris of dirty dishes. MOTHER (to all) Have some more. Yon hardly touched anything. Did Tommy tell you about my painting? Look. WE SEE her reach next to the refrigerator and pull up a couple of oil paintings she props on the edge of the table. MOTHER (CONTD) (proudly) They want me to do a portrait next. I'm gonna do the Moan Lisa. CUT TO: WINDOW where WE SEE HENRY 's car with the body in the trunk, still parked at the curb. INT. HENRY'S CAR - NIGHT Finally on their way, HENRY is driving. JIMMY, in the passenger's seat, and TOMMY, in the rear seat, embracing the shovel, are dozing off. The sleepy humming of the wheels is suddenly interrupted by a thumping sound. At first, HENRY thinks he has a flat, but the thumping is too irregular. JIMMY awakens. His eyes are on HENRY. TOMMY leans forward from the rear seat. Silence. Thump Silence. EXT. MERRITT PARKWAY - NIGHT Car pulls off the road onto the grass. HENRY, JIMMY and TOMMY, still holding the shovel, get out of the car. TOMMY Jesus Christ! Miserable bastard! HENRY opens the trunk and steps back. In the trunk light WE SEE the mattress cover squirming around. We hear muffled groans. TOMMY (raising the shovel) Can you believe this no-good fuck? The prick! He's still alive. TOMMY suddenly smashes the shovel into the moving, bloody mattress cover. He smashes it again and again and again. Cursing BATTS with every swing. TOMMY Rat bastard. (he swings shovel) No-good, low-life fuck. TOMMY swings shovel again and again. Soon the mattress cover stops squirming and TOMMY stops swinging the shovel. He is exhausted. TOMMY and JIMMY get back in the car. HENRY is facing the open trunk. TILT UP and FREEZE ON HENRY'S face slamming the trunk shut. HENRY (V.O.) As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster. MAIN TITLE: GOOD FELLAS UNFREEZE and DISSOLVE TO: HENRY - AS A CHILD looking out his bedroom window. TITLE - EAST NEW YORK: BROOKLYN. 1955. HENRY (V.O.) To me, being a gangster was better than being President of the United States. EXT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY'S POV - A GRIMY ONE-STORY CABSTAND with faded "Pitkin Avenue Cabs" sign above the door. Its after midnight. WE SEE A HALF-DOZEN, immaculately-dressed HOODS wearing diamond pinky rings and silk shirts, lounging around the cabstand talking and sipping coffee. HENRY (V.O.) Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job, I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there I belonged. HENRY'S POV WE SEE a Cadillac pull up to the cabstand. WEE SEE the car rise slightly when TWO huge, dapper HOODS get out. On HOOD #1 WE SEE large diamond pinky ring on a sausage- thick finger. On HOOD #2 WE SEE a broken-nosed hood's tie hanging loosely across his monogrammed shirt like a silk bandolier. HENRY (V.O.) To me it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. On the sidewalk WE SEE the TWO HOODS who just got out of the car hug and playfully shove TUDDY VARIO, the sloppily- dressed, solidly-built HOOD who runs the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) They weren't like anyone else. They did whatever they wanted. They'd double-park in front of the hydrant and nobody ever gave them a ticket. In the summer when they played cards all night, nobody ever called the cops. WE SEE TODDY laughingly try to push them away. HENRY (V.O.) Tuddy Vario ran the cabstand and a pizzeria and a few other places for his brother, Paul, who was the boss over everybody in the neighborhood. WE SEE a laughing HOOD #1 slyly slip behind TUDDY and grab him around the neck, while HOOD #2 starts feigning punches to TODDY's ample midsection. Suddenly TODDY VARIO and HOODS see that PAUL VARIO, the boss, is standing in the cabstand's doorway. VARIO is A large man, standing six-feet tall and weighing over 240 pounds. He appears even larger. HENRY (V.O.) Paulie might have moved slow, but it was only because he didn't have to move for anybody. TODDY and HOODS immediately stop horsing around. TITLES CONTINUE. CHILD'S BEDROOM - MORNING CARMELLA HILL, HENRY'S mother, shoves his books under his arm and pushes him into the hallway. WE SEE. HENRY'S TWO BROTHERS putting on their jackets and picking up their books and almost tripping over another brother's, MICHAEL, wheelchair. WE CATCH A GLIMPSE OF TWO SISTERS eating breakfast. WE SEE HENRY'S construction worker FATHER sipping coffee in kitchen before going to work. HENRY (V.O.) At first, my parents loved that I found a job across the street. My father, who was Irish, was sent to work at the age of eleven, and he liked that I got myself a job. He always said American kids were spoiled lazy. CARMELLA (to the brood) Come on. Come on. You'll all be late. HENRY (V.O.) And my mother was happy after she found out that the Varios came from the same part of Sicily as she did. To my mother, it was the answer to her prayers. WE SEE HENRY'S MOTHER shove him out the door with his school books. EXT. STREET SIDE OF DOOR - DAY CARMELLA, in doorway, watches HENRY go down the block toward school. When HENRY turns the corner, along with OTHER school-bound' YOUNGSTERS, WE SEE he suddenly stops. The OTHER SCHOOLCHILDREN keep walking. HENRY carefully sticks his head around the corner. His MOTHER is no longer there. WE SEE HENRY race across the street toward the cabstand. HENRY (V.O.) I was the luckiest kid in the world. EXT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY leap into the air to catch a set of car keys. HENRY (V.O.) I could go anywhere. EXT. CABSTAND PARKING LOT - DAY WE SEE HENRY, who can hardly see over the dashboard, jockeying a MOBSTER'S Caddy around the cabstand parking lot. WE SEE OTHER KIDS, HENRY'S age, watching HENRY, in awe, from behind a fence. HENRY (V.O.) I could do anything. INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM - DAY WE SEE HENRY watching TWO UNIFORMED COPS laughing with TODDY and SOME HOODS while stuffing whisky bottles under their tunics. HENRY I knew everybody and everybody knew me. EXT. SIDEWALK OUTSIDE CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE HENRY trying to sip hot espresso coffee just like the BIG GUYS, except WE SEE HENRY grimace because the coffee is too hot and far too bitter. HENRY (V.O.) But it wasn't too long before my parents changed their minds. For them, the cabstand was supposed to be a part-tie job, but for me, it was full-time. CUT TO: INT. REAR OF CABSTAND TODDY is folding and placing long sheets with policy bets into a brown paper bag. In the BG, WE SEE HOODS going through boxes of stolen orange and blue cardigan sweaters. HENRY waits at TUDDY'S side until TODDY finishes making a notation on a slip of paper. TODDY holds the paper bag in his hands and TODDY (to Henry, with a smile) Okay. EXT. CABSTAND WE SEE HENRY running out the cabstand door carrying the paper bag. He runs past HALF A DOZEN HOODS, lounging outside on wooden chairs, wearing orange and blue sweaters. HENRY People like my father could never understand, but I was a part of something. I belonged. I was treated like a grown-up. Every day I was learning to score. INT. KITCHEN - HENRY'S HOUSE FATHER (in mock concern) Did you study hard in school today? Did you learn a lot? Huh? HENRY is silent and begins backing away. FATHER I can't hear you, you little liar. (waving the letter) I got this from the school. They say you haven't been there in months. HENRY tries to dart past his FATHER, but he cannot escape. HENRY gets a blow on the back of his head. HENRY'S MOTHER starts to interfere, but is pushed back. FATHER (beating Henry, but glaring at Carmella) Little lying bastard. CARMELLA screams. HENRY doubles up. HENRY'S FATHER keeps pounding away. CLOSE ON HENRY'S FACE FREEZE IN ACTION ON HENRY'S FATHER'S FACE HENRY (V.O.) My father was always pissed off. He was pissed that he had to work so hard. He was pissed that he made such lousy money. Be was pissed that there were seven of us living in a tiny house. But after a while, he was mostly pissed that I hung around the cabstand. He said they were bums and that I was a bum. He said I was going to get into trouble. I used to say I was only running errands after school, but he knew better. He knew what went on at the cabstand and, every once in a while, usually after he got his load on, I had to take a beating. But by then, I didn't care. No matter how many beatings I took, I wouldn't listen to what he said. I don't think I even heard him. The way I saw it, everybody has to take a beating some time. UNFREEZE and continue the beating. CUT TO: HENRY'S SWOLLEN AND BEATEN FACE INT. CABSTAND BACKROOM TODDY What happened to you? HENRY I can't make any more deliveries. TODDY Whadda you mean, you can't make any more deliveries? You're going to fuck up everything? HENRY My father got a letter from the school. He said the next time he'll kill me. CUT TO: INT. AUTOMOBILE THREE HOODS and HENRY in parked car outside the post office. HOOD #1 (pointing to one postman) Is that the one? HENRY NO. HOOD 2 (pointing at another) Him? HENRY No. (pause) There. That's him. That's the guy. HOOD #1 and HOOD #2 get out of the car and grab the stunned MAILMAN. He loses his hat and spills some mail as they shove him into the car's rear seat. INT. A NEIGHBORHOOD PIZZERIA TODDY VARIO is standing in front of a pizza oven. HENRY watches the HOODS shove the MAILMAN against the side of the oven. WE SEE PAUL VARIO in the BG. TODDY (pointing to Henry) You know this kid? MAILMAN (barely able to speak) Yes. TUDDY You know where he lives? MAILMAN nods. TODDY You deliver mail to his house? MAILMAN nods again. TODDY From now on, any letters to the kid from his school come directly here. Do you understand? One more letter from the school to the kid's house and ... TODDY looks at PAUL VARIO, who nods, and the HOODS pull down the door or the pizza oven and shove the MAILMAN up close. TODDY ... you're going in the oven head- first. FREEZE ON MAILMAN'S face, smeared against the hot stove. RENKY (V.O.) That was it. No more letters from truant officers. No more letters from school. In fact, no more letters from anybody. How could I go back to school after that and pledge allegiance to the flag and sit through good government bullshit. EXT. MOB SOCIAL CLUB - DAY WE SEE HENRY entering a mob social club, nodding to a friendly COP lounging outside, past WISEGUYS in sleeveless underwear sunning themselves in front of the club. WE SEE A COUPLE OF MENACING HOODS smile and nod hello at HENRY. REAR YARD OF SOCIAL CLUB HOODS are cooking sausages and peppers on grill. There are bottles of homemade wine and keg of beer. WE SEE PAUL VAHIO holding court while eating a sausage sandwich. There are HOODS standing around him at a respectful distance. Only TODDY approaches him with ease. WE SEE A HOOD talk to TODDY. WE SEE TODDY relay the message to PAUL. WE SEE PAUL say something to TODDY, who nods back to the HOOD and then motions to HENRY to come over. WE SEE TODDY bend down a little and whisper in HENRY's ear. DOLLY IN ON PAUL's face. HENRY (V.O.) Hundreds of guys depended on Paulie and he got a piece of everything they made. It was tribute, just like the old country, except they were doing it in America. All they got from Paulie was protection from other guys looking to rip them off. That's what it's all about. That's what the FBI can never understand -- that what Paulie and the organization does is offer protection for people who can't go to the cops. They're like the police department for wiseguys. EXT. USED CAR LOT - NIGHT WE SEE TUDDY in his car, hand HENRY a hammer, some rags, - and a five-gallon can of gasoline. TODDY (driving away) I'll be up at the corner. WE SEE HENRY break the windows of about six cars parked facing the sidewalk. HENRY (V.O.) People locked at me differently. They knew I was with somebody. HE SEE HENRY shove the gas-soaked rags through the broken car windows. HENRY looks up the block where TODDY has parked. HE SEE TODDY (from HENRY'S LOT) look around and nod. HENRY immediately begins tossing lighted matchbooks through the smashed car windows. HENRY (V.O.) I didn't have to wait on line at the bakery on Sunday morning anymore for fresh bread. The owner knew who I was with, and he'd come from around the counter, no matter how many people were waiting. I was taken care of first. Suddenly the night explodes in orange brightness. WE SEE HENRY begin to run toward TUDDY"s car as the cars he has ignited begin to explode behind him. HENRY (V.O.) Our neighbors didn't park in our driveway anymore, even though we didn't have a car. At thirteen, I was making more money than most of the grownups in the neighborhood. I had more money than I could spend. I had it all. FREEZE ON HENRY'S a silhouette against the darkness like a man in hell. HENRY (V.O.) One day some of the kids from the neighborhood carried my mother's groceries all the way home for her. It was out of respect. CUT TO: EXT. HENRY'S HOUSE - DAY HENRY'S MOTHER opens door of house, bright daylight. MOTHER'S POV She sees grey lizard shoes, grey pinstriped trousers, grey silk shirt, Billy Eckstein collar, yellow silk tie, and double-breasted jacket. She looks up and sees HENRY'S smiling face. MOTHER (aghast) My God! You look like a gangster. CUT TO: SCREAMING MAN Running toward the pizzeria, holding his hand. EXT.: PIZZERIA - DAY WE SEE HENRY standing near front of store. MAN (screaming) I've been shot! Help! Help! TUDDY (from rear of store, to Henry) Close the door. Don't let him in. HENRY grabs a chair, takes it outside for the MAN to sit on and closes the pizzeria door. The MAS collapses in the seat and HENRY immediately starts wrapping the MAN'S shredded and bleeding hand in his apron. The MAN is turning white and praying. HENRY (soothing the man) It's okay. It's okay. They're getting an ambulance. WE SEE HENRY prop the MAN in his chair and race into the pizzeria for more aprons which he takes outside and wraps around the MAN'S bleeding hand, just as an ambulance pulls up. WE SEE TODDY come up behind HENRY as the MAN is rushed away. HENRY (V.O.) It was the first time I had ever seen anyone shot. TODDY (angry) You're some fucking jerk. WE SEE that HENRY is stunned. TODDY I You wasted eight fucking aprons on that guy. : HENRY (V.O.) I remember feeling bad about the guy. But I remember feeling that maybe Tuddy was right. I knew Paulie didn't want anybody dying in the building. CUT TO: INT. CABSTAND - NIGHT HENRY is making a ham and cheese sandwich. CAMERA TRACKING through room full of PEOPLE playing cards, through professional CARD DEALERS skittering cards across green felt tables, through BODYGUARDS watching the door, through TUDDY VARIO walking around the tables, through PAUL VARIO standing quietly on the side, through HENRY giving the sandwich to ONE of the PLAYERS. HENRY (V.O.) It was a glorious time. Wiseguys were all over the place. It was before Apalachin and before Crazy Joey decided to take on a boss and start a war. It was when I met the world. It was when I first met Jimmy Burke. CAMERA COMES TO REST when JIMMY BROKE walks in the door. CUT TO: HENRY Looking at JIMMY HENRY (V.O.) He couldn't have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five at the time, but he was already a legend. He'd walk in the door and everybody who worked the room went wild. He'd give the doorman a hundred just for opening the door. He shoved hundreds in the pockets of the dealers and who ran the games. The bartender got a hundred just for keeping the ice cubes cold. HENRY sees VARIO give BURKE a hug around the shoulder. HENRY sees JIMMY handing money to the DOORMAN. HENRY watches PLAYERS timidly move their chairs slightly to make room for JIMMY. HENRY sees JIMMY pull out a wad of bills and sit down. JIMMY (to Henry, who is standing near the bar) Hey, kid! Get me a seven and seven. WE SEE HENRY make the drink and bring it to JIMMY. VARIO is standing next to JIMMY. VARIO (his arm around Henry's shoulder) Henry. Say hello to Jimmy Burke. WE SEE JIMMY slip a $20 bill in Henry's shirt pocket. JIMMY (lifting his drink to Henry) Keep 'em coming. FREEZE FRAME OH JIMMY. HENRY (V.O.) Jimmy was one of the most feared gays in the city. He was first locked up at eleven and was doing hits for mob bosses when he was sixteen. Hits never bothered him. It was business. But what he really loved to do was steal. I mean, he actually enjoyed it. Jimmy was the kind of guy who rooted for the bad guys in the movies. He was one of the city's biggest hijackers. Clothes. Razor blades. Booze. Cigarettes. Shrimp and lobsters. Shrimp and lobsters were the best. They went fast. EXT. TRAILER TRUCK - NEAR IDLEWILD AIRPORT - NIGHT The trailer truck is stopped at a light in a deserted area near JFK Airport. WE SEE the DRIVER being quietly led to a car where JIMMY BURKE is standing. WE SEE JIMMY routinely take the DRIVER'S wallet. There is absolutely no resistance. HENRY (V.O.) And almost all of them were gimmie's. CUT TO: CLOSE UP - WALLET WE SEE JIMMY put a $50 bill in the DRIVER'S wallet. HENRY They called him Jimmy the Gent. The drivers loved him. They used to tip him off about the really good loads. Of course, everybody got a piece. And when the cops assigned a whole army to stop him, (pause) Jimmy made them partners. CUT TO: EXT. CABSTAND PACKING LOT - DAY CLOSE UP - ROWS OF CIGARETTE CARTONS piled inside a large trailer truck. JIMMY and TOMMY DESIMONE, a youngster about HENRY's age, are moving large cigarette cartons toward truck tailgate. While JIMMY is dressed like a truck driver, TOMMY is - very nattily dressed in a sharply-cut suit and highly buffed shoes. JIMMY and TOMMY are loading the cartons into the arms of a WOMAN SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD who is having difficulty carrying the load. JIMMY Tommy. Help the lady. WE SEE TOMMY scramble down from the truck and help the SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD to her own car where WE SEE she already bad a load of the cartons. WE SEE HENRY standing near her car and watching. SCHOOL-CROSSING GUARD (driving off) Thank you, sweetheart. CUT TO: JIMMY standing between TOMMY and HENRY. JIMMY (to Henry) Say hello to Tommy. You'll do good together. CUT TO: POLICE CAR pulling onto the sidewalk where HENRY, TOMMY and JIMMY are standing. The COPS recognize JIMMY. COP #1 Anything good? HENRY watches JIMMY smile and toss a couple of cartons of cigarettes into their radio car. The COPS wave and drive off. EXT. FACTORY GATE - QUITTING TIME WE SEE HENRY busily selling cartons to WORKERS. TOMMY is getting cartons out. of the trunk of a car parked nearby. HENRY is so busy he can hardly keep the money and cash straight. Instead of the neat roll we saw on JIMMY, HENRY's cash is a wrinkled mess. Some of it is rolled, some folded, some in different pockets. WE SEE HENRY approached by TWO CITY DETECTIVES. DETECTIVE #1 What do you think you're doing? DETECTIVE #2 Where did you get these cigarettes? (offering them cartons) It's okay. DETECTIVE #l roughly grabs HENRY's arm. DETECTIVE #2 grabs HENRY's cigarette cartons. WE SEE HENRY pull his arm away and ONE of the DETECTIVES slaps him across the face. WE SEE that TOMMY is about to say something, but runs away instead. INT. CABSTAND - DAY WE SEE TOMMY talking to TUDDY and ASSORTED HOODS at the cabstand. INT. COURTROOM - "AR-1" (ARRAIGNMENT PART 1) HENRY is waiting along with DOZENS OF HOOKERS, nodding JUNKIES, MUGGERS and SHOPLIFTERS. When HENRY'S case is called, WE PAN to a well-dressed MOB LAWYER. HENRY, who has never seen the LAWYER before, walks to the PROSECUTOR'S, rather than the DEFENDANT'S table. A COURT CLERK nods him over toward his own LAWYER. Without acknowledging HENRY, the LAWYER nods and smiles at the JUDGE, who smiles and nods back. JUDGE Councilor, proceed. CUT TO: INT. COURTROOM - CENTER AISLE HENRY is walking out of the court. HENRY sees JIMMY BURKE smiling and waiting for him in the rear of the courtroom. JIMMY puts his arm around HENRY like a father, and tacks a one-hundred dollar bill into HENRY's chest pocket. They walk out into the court corridor in silence together and then, suddenly, HENRY sees PAUL VARIO, TOMMY, TUDDY, and the WHOLE CREW from the cabstand waiting for him. They start clapping and whistling and slapping his back and cheering. VARIO, TUDDY and BURKE embrace him. While bewildered COPS and LAWYERS watch! CHORDS OF HOODS You broke your cherry! You broke your cherry! LAST FREEZE. TITLE UP - IDLEWILD AIRPORT: 1955 EXT. WIDE SHOT - IDLEWILD CARGO AREA HENRY (V.O.) By the time I grew up, there was thirty billion a year in cargo moving through Idlewild Airport and we tried to steal every bit of it. EXT. AIRPORT DINER - PARKING LOT - DAY ANGLE - GREY LIZARD SHOES AND SHARP GREY PANTS and UP TO SEE HENRY standing in parking lot, when a large truck pulls up. WE SEE TOMMY DESIMONE standing with him. HENRY (V.O.) You've got to understand, we grew up near the airport.. It belonged to Paulie. We had friends and relatives who worked all over the place and they tipped as off about what was coming in and what was going out. WE SEE DRIVES get out of track with engine still running and leave door open. He nods to HENRY who does not respond and the DRIVES casually walks toward the diner. HENRY (V.O.) If any of the truckers or airlines gave as trouble, Paulie had his people scare then with a little strike. It was beautiful. It was an even bigger money-major than numbers, and Jimmy was in charge. Whenever we needed money, we'd rob the airport. To us, it was better than Citibank. INT. TABLE IN DINER WE SEE DRIVER rise from debris of breakfast dishes, leave a tip and pay the CASHIER. Be walks out the door toward his truck in the parking lot. HOLD ON the door. DRIVER rushes back in through the door toward the CASHIER. DRIVER (flushed and agitated) Hurry, gimme the phone. Two niggers just stole my track. INT. SONNY'S BAMBOO LOUNGE - DUSK A cavernous room within earshot of the airport that looks like a movie nightclub. No matter when you walk into the Bamboo Lounge it's always the middle of the night. CAMERA TRACKS past the

franchi

How many times the word 'franchi' appears in the text?