Z hold fast to the law
z of the last cold Tome
z where the earth of the truth
♪ lies thick upon the page
z and the loam of faith
♪ in the ink long fled
z from the drone of the nib flows on
♪ till the last of the first depart
♪ and the least of the past is dust
2z and the dust
2z the dust is lost
z hold fast
♪ gormenghast
♪ gormenghast, ♪
Poet...
Day of... ancient...
Time of the 23rd Earl.
Hm... did he?
Ha.
Ha!
The reading of the laureate's ten-year meditation on... art!
Pfft!
Damned art. Damned poetry. Damned poetic ass!
He won't have finished it. And he'll want it changed at the last minute. Damned...
Ass!
- Damned... - Don't worry, damned arse-wipe,
your assistant knows the ritual of the poet off by heart!
He'll do it for you.
Like he does everything else.
Excuse me, lordship!
Titus! Titus groan! This is no racetrack, young sir!
I am allowed to ride after breakfast,
and in the castle, between eight and nine on a Monday morning.
That's the rules, professor bellgrove, sir.
Quite. Quite so.
But no permission to trample your old schoolmaster half to death,
am I correct? Yes, I am.
You look pale, young lordship.
Are you all right?
You haven't been riding over somebody's ghost, have you?
There's no such thing, sir!
Hm. Er, punctuality, Titus!
Tardiness is next to cleanliness! Don't be late!
They were floating about 30 yards out.
Here, look. Two hats...
And a letter.
Oh! What do you make of that?
"No more fire.
"Our lips are sealed.
"Our power is in water."
Clarice and Cora? Hm!
The appearance given, mr secretary,
is that their two ladyships have drowned themselves.
Good riddance, if you ask me. Hm!
Do you have a goat?
A goat, ladyship?
Milk - for the cats.
Ah! I see what you mean! A goat! Have I got a goat?
- Ah, that's better. - Bring my goat.
- Your goat? - The goat, man. Bring it.
We haven't got a goat.
I require service, not sophistry! Get my goat!
I am amazed, ladyship - where are the traditions of service?
How old are you?
Er... 38, madam.
Sit down.
Ladyship.
Er, five years, madam.
I've been thinking. Since the burning of the library
and the disappearance of my husband, things have been wrong.
For years, something uneasy. Do you feel it, squallor?
And now Clarice and Cora.
Bodies not found, not buried.
Their note mentioned a burning, ladyship. Perhaps it was they who...?
Burn the library?
A groan burn a groan? Never!
Made me think of it all again.
There is something among us.
There is stench.
I can smell it.
Do you mean...
Rebellion, ladyship?
Rebellion? Who would dare rebel against gormenghast?
- Forgive me, madam. - I want you to watch.
Watch for me, do you hear?
If there is such a thing as rebellion, we shall find it.
Do you understand me, squallor?
I have no doubt, ladyship.
Ooh. Ooh...
- I've found one, doctor! - Wrong sex, you idiot!
- You bring the female goat, you fool! - Female goat?
- Take it away. - Ha!
I have a faith in you, squallor. I don't know why.
- I am honoured, madam. - Mark my words...
If this thing exists, it shall be crushed.
Steerpike!
Steerpike! You're a pest! Never where I need you!
Yes, sir.
And don't call me sir if you don't mean it, you obsequious rat!
Double suicide, no bodies.
No bodies, no funeral.
Where are we then?
We could bury their hats, sir.
I'll wipe that grin off your clock, damn slug!
- Ooh! - Get me corpses!
And quick!
As a matter of fact, I don't think I will, mr secretary barquentine.
Arse-wipe and shit-licker... sir.
Huh!
Doggit! Is that really you behind that mask of grime and ink?
If it is, are you trying to carve your name in your desk
when you thought your master was asleep?
Yes, sir.
Having a go at the whole thing, were you, doggit?
Only done the first three letters, sir.
Yes, well, you can leave the second g till later, boy.
The second g, sir?
Yes. There are two gs in...
Damn it, boy! Don't you know how to spell your own name?
Come on, off you go. Shoo!
It's break, young lordship.
Milk and a biscuit?
Stop playing with your teeth, bellgrove. It's damn rude!
I am in pain, mr perch.
And what the hell have my teeth got to do with you?
You're a hoarder, you damn pedant!
Get them extracted!
Oh, poor old fangs!
Fangs? Is that how you consider me, fluke?
Canine! I'll remind you that,
15 short years ago, I was considered for headmaster! Yes, fluke, headmaster.
Ow!
Pain doesn't exist, dear boy.
It is merely an expression of inner disturbance.
The fact that you imagine it to be in your teeth is interesting.
Have you said something you regret lately?
Ow!
Pain doesn't exist, dear boy!
Perhaps we've put our foot in it lately, have we?
Death!
I can hear it squeak. Here it comes.
Make way for death! Make way for death!
De'ath, man! De'ath! He has a name! Show some respect!
It's the headmaster! Get out of it!
He's got something to say! A notice for you all!
Uh!
Oh...
Who are all these people?
It's your staff, headmaster.
- Oh. - Shall I...
Shall I get bellgrove to read the edict?
Why not?
What an honour, headmaster! Thank you. An edict!
Read it! Hurry up. It's from barquentine.
Get your teeth into it, bellgrove!
Yes. Can he understand more than seven words in a row?
Silence!
Professor bellgrove.
"Reference, lord Titus, 77th Earl.
"I, being secretary barquentine, give notice to remind you that no privileges
"of caste, class or title shall be afforded the aforesaid lord,
"according to the iron-clad precedents of gormenghast.
"He shall be of the ordinary, no more, no less,
"until his time of reason and puberty.
"Take note - you exist to teach, not Fawn."
- Fawn? - Barquentine, you bastard bugger!
"Headmaster de'ath, I would have you impress upon your staff
"the magnitude of their office and, in particular, those who confuse
"their calling with indolence.
"Signed, as for barquentine, steerpike."
Steerpike?
It's you, bellgrove. The whole damn thing's aimed at you!
How dare you!
Ha! But you teach his lordship, don't you?
Who did you say all these people were?
Nothing you need be concerned with, headmaster.
- Out! Out! - No!
- Death's out! - No!
Steerpike, you bastard bugger!
It's worse!
300 dead and rising.
And what a way to die!
The fever, the boils, the blood!
Most of them beg for the mercy of death!
What about gertrude?
She is quarantined, like you.
Are you saying she's not even dead yet?
Not even ill?
I hear the lady fuchsia's looking feverish, so there's hope yet.
Surely, the time for you to emerge
and claim your rightful power cannot be far away.
We want some servants.
If I knew they weren't infected, I'd bring you a hundred!
But what would be more tragic?
For you to be struck down at the very moment
when you were to mount your golden thrones?
Are they ready?
We want to see them.
Ladyships, I am trying to keep the plague from your door!
How dare you make these demands on me!
How dare you!
I won't tolerate it!
Get under the carpet!
Get under the carpet now!
Get under it!
Or you'll get nothing!
No servants,
no crowns,
no thrones!
Nothing!
Get under the carpet!
Thank you.
Now I shall continue to protect you and return with provisions by and by.
- We could, couldn't we? - We could do it together.
- Next time he comes. - We could, couldn't we?
Both: We could kill him.
The ninth day of the month.
The ninth, mr secretary.
That's what I said!
The egg should be blue, not red.
The ninth, you dolt! Didn't I say the ninth?
The egg should be blue, not red.
In addition to your daily scholastic duties, lordship.
11 o'clock,
release of the five hawks from the north-east turret.
1.15, the groaning of the dungeon
with your sister, lady fuchsia.
Four o'clock, blessing of the meat racks.
Five o'clock, the ceremony of the laureate,
the reading of the ten-year meditation on art - most important, lordship.
Lesson... lesson over.
Lordship, is that you? We must rehearse
the ceremony of the laureate.
Come back!
Delights of the rigours of ancient learning.
- Where's the boy? - Boy, sir? What boy?
Don't "what boy" me! There was a boy in this corridor just now, I saw him.
Where is he?!
With respect, mr secretary, you are here confronted
with the greatest group of experts on boys possibly ever assembled.
We know what a boy looks like, what he sounds like and...
- What the idiot had for dinner! - If I may, professor perch...
Where's the sodding boy?!
Bugger the bastard!
I apologise for the tone of my colleague, mr secretary...
But not necessarily his intention.
You have protected a boy with insolence!
If I may say, sir, it was not I who...
Let me just say, bellgrove,
that this afternoon is the ceremony of the laureate.
If every boy, and I mean every boy, is not there assembled,
I will personally twist your malodorous intestines
around your brainless skull!
Stand aside!
Titus?
Titus!
I know where you went, boy. Come on.
Ti... Titus!
Titus? Titus, come back!
Lordship, please!
It's the ceremony. Have you forgotten?
Titus!
Oh! Me, an expert on boys?
You're a silly old fool, professor bellgrove!
The hall of bright carvings. I must be near to the castle wall!
Out.
I'm out of it!
All boys ready for the day of the laureate, headmaster.
Barquentine wants them counted.
- Is he asleep? - Famous for somnolent awareness, sir.
Once a kitchen slug, always a kitchen slug.
All boys, headmaster!
Every single one of them!
Drainage!
All clear!
All: Yes!
All clear!
All: Yes!
All clear.
Look out, it's the headmaster! Look out! Death is coming!
Head count! Secretary barquentine has ordered a head count!
All boys to be counted!
The headmaster!
Headmaster!
What? What? What?
What happened? What...?
Asleep! Are you accusing me of dereliction of duty?
I'll have you retract those words! I was cogitating.
A particularly deep problem on the nature of ambition, as it happens.
Besides, what were you all doing in my inner sanctum, en masse, may I add?
It's the young Earl, sir. He's gone missing.
Supposed to be in your class, wasn't he?
My class? Do you mean he wasn't? Oh, bless my soul!
What do you suggest we do about it?
I? Suggest?
B-b-b-but why should it be I who does the suggesting?
Stupid bugger. Doesn't get it, does he?
Headmaster, what are we going to do?
Headmaster?
The previous, if he could be said to have existed at all,
now without any doubt doesn't.
And as the most senior member of staff, bellgrove,
whatever your qualifications,
the burden now falls on you!
Me?
Head... head-headmaster?
I...
What do you mean, whatever my qualifications? Upstart! Sluggard!
Stop that, fluke! Your wheezing sets my teeth on edge.
Yes. Things are going to change around here, you know. A new order has begun
and the first thing you will all do is listen to your new headmaster!
Out with it, then.
Out with what, mule?
The Earl, tosspot!
Oh, the Earl? He's gone missing! What do we do? Calm!
We stay calm, gentlemen. Your headmaster is here. Authority at last.
What...? Search!
Search for him, that's what we do. Search parties! Yes! Never fear, gentlemen.
The young Earl shall be found and I, bellgrove, shall find him!
Titus! She will be your little sister...
And you will love her.
Wait! Come back!
Wait! I think I know you. I won't hurt you. Wait!
Come on, come on!
Uh...
Well? Where is he?
Mr secretary, I would have you know that I have risen somewhat in my profession
and I am now, as you might say, at the zenith of it.
And as head of our proud school, I would be grateful if you did not address me
- in such disrespectful tones. - Shut up!
You useless, elongated fart!
I'm damned if I'll see the tradition of 1,000 years
- ruined by some damned little... - Little what?
Earl, madam, little Earl.
- Where is he? - No sign, mr secretary, I'm afraid.
Oh! Gah!
We'll do it without him! Take a boy, any boy.
Put the ribbon in his hair. Stand him down there
and when I say so, tell him to give the laureate his idiot poem.
Well, do it! Sit there like some turd-struck grub! Do it!
Doggit, doggit, get up, boy.
- Who, sir? Me, sir? - You. Yes, yes. Come on.
Hold this. Stand still. Come on.
- Find him, piddle-brain. - Quick. Stand still, stand still.
Earl or no Earl, I'll teach him to flout the traditions of this place!
There we are. Now, look lively.
Over there. Go, go, go. Take it up the steps, boy.
Oh, don't show off, doggit! Come on, you ass of a child.
Up the steps! Up the steps, boy.
Hurry! Come on.
No! My odes! My work! Ten years, ten years!
Ten years of crap, no doubt! Leave it! Leave it!
Damn doggerel! Damn his lordship! Damn him! Damn!
Damn! Where is he?
Where in hell is he?!
I'm lost.
Where are you?
Who are you?
Flay.
I've heard of you, mr flay.
You were my father's servant.
Where is this?
It's my home, lordship.
Are you ill?
Not ill, boy.
Banished.
Banished? Why?
Knew you right away, lordship.
The eyes.
Eat rabbit?
I snare, see?
New life.
Look after flay.
That's it.
Duty gone.
I'm very sorry, mr flay.
Mr flay, I saw something in a forest of trees made of stone.
She was on a branch.
- She? Small thing? Fast? - She moved like lightning, mr flay.
- Don't go near her. - Why, mr flay?
She seemed to me to be very free and easy.
Leave her! Free?
Duty, lordship,
ancient duty! All there is.
- Your father said. - I never saw my father.
You did, boy. You saw him.
And what was he like?
Earl of gormenghast.
Did he love me?
Why would he say, "leave the girl alone," mr flay?
Not girl, wild thing!
Comes from carvers.
Steals from own.
Not of the stones.
Bad, lordship, bad.
Sleep.
Take you back.
Eat.
I like you very much, mr flay.
This whelp has searched. No sign, your ladyship.
Then search again!
And this time, you'll succeed, barquentine,
or I'll have your head on a spike!
Yes, madam.
He turned up in my room ten minutes ago.
Mr flay brought me back.
Why was he banished, mother?
I know no flay.
- Mother? - I know no flay!
What do you do with him, mr secretary?
What can be done? He's gone. A faithful servant.
We don't have many.
The boy! What do you do with his lordship?
He ran!
What's his punishment?
In you go, young sir. You brought it on your own head, remember.
Use the time to think.
Banished!
Fuchsia: Six for searching, seven for heaven,
eight for aching...
Huh? Ah!
Nine for nothing,
ten for less.
Lady fuchsia.
- May I join you? - What do you want?
Just to walk with you. If it would please you. Nothing else.
The wood is free. I can't stop you, can I?
You can walk behind me, if you like.
Nothing is free, lady fuchsia.
You said, "the wood is free."
I don't believe anything is free... Except dreams.
- What do you know of dreams? - We all dream.
I dream of equality, as a matter of fact.
I believe there should be no poor, no rich, no strong or weak.
Equality is everything, don't you think, lady fuchsia?
I wouldn't know anything about it.
Don't you think it's wrong
if some people starve and other people have so much they waste it?
Don't you think the brave and the skilful should be rewarded?
Don't you think talent is as important as wealth?
It's raining!
Don't you think cruelty and greed should be stopped for good?
I'm getting wet.
No! I'm getting soaked!
No, lady fuchsia! Not that way!
Lady fuchsia!
- Where does it hurt? - I'm all right.
Don't be a hero. I know you're brave.
I want to know exactly where it hurts.
It's my leg.
I'm cold.
Gently, gently. Come on. Come on.
Head wound, doctor. Leg might be broken!
Show me quickly, dear boy. Fetch men and a stretcher. I'll get my bag.
Stay still! Don't move.
Perfect.
You are magnificent!
I thank you, madam. At your service.
At my service!
Ah!
Oh, do try not to jolt her! Steady. Steady there!
This is no ordinary cargo!
Oh, my precious! My precious. Oh!
Not you!
Kitchen boy!
Life is amusing.
Isn't it?!
Not a bone in the least broken.
Anatomically quite sound, your ladyship.
Where's steerpike?
You don't want to see that horrid thing, do you?
No! No, not at all.
I hate them! I hate them!
Who, my agitato sister?
Oh, why do you never listen to me?!
Flesh of my flesh,
to cut me would be to carve at the very marrow of yourself!
Wouldn't the flap of an envelope be more appropriate?
Why should I be punished like this?
Am I without charm, or grace, or intellect?
Bulging bag of all three, my talented tyro.
So why do I never have any advances paid to me?
Are you speaking financially?
No, Alfred, I am not, and well you know it!
I mean, what's wrong with your sex? Can't they see
my neck, my hair?
I move well, don't I?
Can't they see my carriage?
You're too powerful, sweet white of egg. That is the unpalatable truth.
I'm sorry to say, but that carriage, as you put it, supercharged as it is,
terrifies them, my spasmic one.
I hate them!
Men!
Blind, stupid, clumsy, horrible, vulgar, heavy things!
And you are one of them! Argh!
Irma, dear!
Bodily functions are nothing to be ashamed of, dear wind.
A party, Alfred, a party. I, Irma prunesquallor, this Irma, this very Irma.
Oh, can we, Alfred, can we have one?
A party, my dear? Are you the type to give a party?
Indeed, are you the type to go to one?
- Oh, but I see you are determined. - Unutterably.
- May I have the knife? - You're going to be the host.
Have I told you, I am thinking of getting married?
- To one of those you hate? - Alfred!
We'll find just the man for you, my avenging angel.
Now, have you thought who to invite, what they are to wear?
Oh, that's simple. Evening dress.
Such things can be cruel, my fashionato.
Few ladies have such resplendent gowns as you.
Oh, who cares? There won't be any women.
No ladies?
I must be alone, Alfred, with them - the male.
I see. And have you considered who they might be, these rams,
these Tom cats, these bulls, oh, thicker than water?
I have in mind a gathering of 40.
- 40 men? - It is my last chance, Alfred!
Listen to me, Irma dear. Listen to an affectionate brother.
You see, in a smaller party
you will find more time to size up the qualities of those present.
- 307? - A dozen?
20, Alfred, and don't argue!
I'm merely trying to put myself in your place, Irma, dear.
It takes an effort!
I can't do it.
Se ee a a a se aan
ah...!
The professors!
It's so obvious!
Why didn't I think of it before? And it shall be called... a soiree.
Rams, soirees, professors?
Are not these terms mutually exclusive?
I shall issue invitations in blue and gold.
We shall soiree in ten days, Alfred!
- Oh, lord! - In ten days' time,
a man of learning will be mine to keep!
I shall understand him, administer to him and keep him clean!
Irma!
My dear... do you not think...?
No, Alfred, I do not think!
Thought is for mortals!
I am a woman!
An invitation? From miss prunesquallor? She has invited us!
Shut up, fluke!
This is a damned crisis! Nothing less.
Crisis? Stupid bastard! How long is it since you've seen a woman?
And how long is it since you have, or have not, professor mule?
She wants a husband!
Long-necked Irma wants a husband!
No, no, no, gentlemen, please! Please. I will not have a lady's name...
Oh, bloody bugger! It's him! She wants him!
Oh, no! Oh, yes! Ha-ha!
Gentlemen, please! Stop it at once!
Nonsense! I... I... It's no way to talk of a lady...
Or of a headmaster!
Him! The very him! The very head!
No. No, no, no, no! Stop! No, me?
I think it is you, bellgrove.
- No! No! - Face up to it, man.
Oh, shush! Nonsense!
She doesn't want me! No... does she?
Perfect!
Only three days to go, Alfred!
Tempus fugit, my seismic one. Tempus fugit.
Titus. Titus?
Fuchsia?
Here. I've brought you some sweets.
- I miss you, Titus. - And I miss you.
Dr pru's having some kind of horrid party!
- A party? - All your professors are going.
- Yuck! - I hate them!
Mother, barquentine, I hate all of them!
I hate them for locking you up and I hate them for ignoring me.
Titus, I spat out of my window today!
I spat on the stones!
I hate them all that much!
Titus, can you hear me?
Yes.
And I spit on the stones too!
Can you feel my fingers?
Titus, you're my brother and I love you.
You're my sister, and I love you.
Bye, Titus. Remember what we said.
Fuchsia?
Fuchsia! I hate them too!
All of them!
Well, tonight's the night.
Wiili or won't I, Irma prunesquallor?
Statement made in the staffroom.
She is passionate about me.
Consider. One, it's poppycock!
Two, my damned staff are damned interferers.
Call themselves teachers!
They lie to add zest to the party.
Three, I haven't questioned their lie, so they don't know that I've seen through it!
Four... so far, so good.
Five, how do I turn the tables against these spoilers
of all that is young and wonderful and, let's face it, lamb-like?
Six, what's wrong with Irma prunesquallor anyway?
Noses must be some shape or other,
or, as that damned idiot shred would say, they wouldn't exist at all!
Seven, no bosoms to speak of.
True, but then what are bosoms weighed against...?
Mm... quite.
Eight...
I am lonely.
Oh, bellgrove, such scouring, not to say moving, honesty!
Nine...
What a catch I am for any woman!
Ten...
Oh, god! Please, make her mine!
Mollocks!
- Mollocks! - Beside you, madam.
Well, why don't you make a sound? Can't you see, I wear no spectacles?
No, don't go, mollocks. Just dust, dust and dust again!
I tell you what, sister, if you ain't a work of art, I don't know what is!
Alfred, how do I seem to you?
I'm over here, my dear. Turn round, turn round.
- Oh. - Oh!
Oh, to think the same blood batters our veins!
What do you mean? I thought you were praising me.
And so I was, but tell me now,
what is it that's somehow different, my pneumatic one?
Oh, you've gained a bosom!
Alfred, you've always said that busts are what you make of them.
- My dear? - Well, I've made one...
From a hot-water bottle. A very expensive one.
Don't you think it gives me pride of bearing?
Just tell me. Tell me, exactly.
Mollocks!
Be a dear, go and talk to cook.
Ahem... dear sister...
No, Alfred, I won't listen!
Wait, there's something else! Wait!
Well, Alfred?
What flair you have, Irma!
Don't spare me.
Oh!
My only thought, my arabic one,
is that having so precisely positioned
such a pair of watery protuberances, as it were,
is it not spitting in the face of the divine to conceal them?
You're going to ruin it, Alfred! I knew you were!
The vivacity of the visage, sweet nicotine,
and the twin peaks of paradise are, shall we say, hidden beneath net, dearest.
Paradise? Hidden?
Never!
Itis I Irma!
Oh, let them come!
My men from the mountains!
Come along, gentlemen. Shoelaces, mule, shoelaces!
Step lively, like lambs to the slaughter!
Don't dawdle, mule. Come on!
Stop bickering. The bickering isn't necessary. Come along.
This way. Follow me.
Gentlemen.
Poor old nannie.
You're the easiest, so you can go first.
All in the cause of science, you understand.
Goodnight, nannie.
Sleep tight.
Professor mule!
- Professor mule. - Chop chop!
Professor mule.
Evening!
Bastard!
Bugger!
Pardon us. Hm!
Yes, professor, female of the species.
Hmm!
Strange... but true!
Care for a canapé?
Now...
The last of them!
Just a minute!
Professor bellgrove.
Headmaster!
- Arse! - Eve!
- Head. - Madam.
Master.
Bugger!
Ah! Bugger!
No way to behave in front of a woman!
Oh, bloody bugger bastard!
Quick, gentlemen! Pass that armchair! Help me get him into it.
One, two, heave!
One more effort, gentlemen!
Right, stand back, give him air.
Forgive him, madam. He is extended before you as a sign of weakness.
We are all mere men. Is this not how we all feel?
Oh!
Perch, fluke, throttlebum,
convey the professor to his quarters, where he may recover.
Oh! No, headmaster! I-I understand utterly.
He has honoured me! Alfred! Do something.
- What? - He shall not be removed from this room.
It's a full-blown spasm, dearest!
Spasm or no spasm, he shall remain!
Mollocks! Fetch my silver hammer.
Oh, and scissors. We'll need to snip his clothes off.
Oh! This is no place for you.
Headmaster, it is for you to speak and me to listen.
Take my arm, such as it is.
I shall accompany you, professor.
Excellent! Er... where?
The garden?
The garden! It shall be our first promenade together.
But I hardly know you, headmaster!
Ar! Let's see.
Hm. Er, lilac! C-c-can you not smell the lilac, my dear madam?
I have a cold.
Ah, yes, women are such sensitive creatures.
And require light, headmaster.
A light? Certainly.
I'm afraid you... you cannot see me.
I would have you sit on my right.
Ah. Well, um, what you would have, you shall be given!
- Shall we rise together? - Hm.
Oh, blast!
How could you use such a word in front of a lady?
Silence! Am I not your headmaster?!
Oh, oh! Um, do forgive me! I... I... Ahem!
- Right, turn him over. - Qver.
I am so happy!
I knew it!
So did I.
My dear, you are cold. It's this damnable arbour!
I will not have you use strong language in our sacred place.
Well, you... you must forgive an old fool,
but I was just trying to damn this dark,
which prevents me from seeing the proud beauty of your face.
Ah!
There?
Oh, head!
Oh, Irma!
Ha!
My man!
Shh!
No!
Oh, oh!
Oh! Ohh!
Oh, oh, oh!
Nannie! Nannie!
Oh, my weak heart. Oh! Oh, oh, oh...
Nannie! Nannie!
Help! Someone, help!
Nannie, what's wrong?
- Let me see! - No! Not you!
- You get the doctor! - Yes, ladyship! At once!
Nannie? Nannie?
Something... wrong.
All...
Wrong.
Nannie!
See it as a gift from the kitchen boy, nannie.
Have her buried in the graveyard for select retainers, squallor.
I don't feel anything, mother. Am I wicked?
She was a good servant. You'll miss her.
- See to it, squallor. - Ladyship.
You are not wicked, my dear.
When are they going to let Titus out of the fort? It's not fair.
He's just a little boy!
He'll be out like a Jack-in-the-box, in no time at all.
He must!
And I want to see my daddy!
Shh! My dear.
Where did he go, dr pru?
He was a very sick man. Who knows what happened to him?
Mr flay is still alive!
Mr flay?
Titus has seen him!
And he also saw something else - a wild thing! A wild girl!
And now he says he's in love with her!
And now nannie!
I'm sorry, nannie!
I can't stand it!
Ladyship.
Now, learn, lordship.
Learn the code. Learn the canon.
Learn who you are.
Learn gormenghast!
It's my family, mr secretary.
And I'll learn what I'll learn in my own time.
Starve, then.
It's him. I hate him. Don't you?
This way.
- Titus, I'm frightened. - I know what I'm doing.
I want to show you something. This way.
It's her! The wild girl!
She was there! I saw her!
She must be able to get in and out of the castle whenever she wants!
I didn't come all this way just to see her! Come down!
You said we were going to go and see mr flay to find out what happened to father!
Fuchsia: This stupid wild girl! Why are you so interested in her?
You can't be like her in any way. And if mother knew, what would s/he say?
Titus: I don't care what s/he says! She never talks to me, anyway!
She's got her stupid birds, hasn't she?
Well, now I've got something better. And that's what they don't like.
They think they know everything!
Well, now I know something that they don't!
And I'll tell you something else, fuchsia. I want to be just like her!
Oh!
Gone again! He is in your charge!
I'm not his keeper, ladyship.
Barquentine, find the boy. And his sister.
Though you needn't waste too much time on that.
Go away!
I'll have you pinned to the rock with your eyes out, barquentine, believe me.
Lordships come and lordships go, ladyship.
Gormenghast stays put!
This wild thing? You think that's what this is all about?
It would appear to be, madam.
It's the brat from his foster mother, isn't it?
I would hypothesise that, quite possibly, given the history...
Why can you not use one word when one will do, squallor?
Yes.
This thing's stealing from the carvers? Am I right?
They say she steals only the best, only the most beautiful, your ladyship.
What's that got to do with it?
- The carvers loathe her. - Yes.
And he ls the male heir, squallor.
Yes.
That infested rag barquentine is right.
Gormenghast is all.
The...
I don't know what's worse, you clammed up, or you in full flow!
Go away. I prefer my birds.
Madam.
The owls? They killed my father?
- In the tower of flints? - What he wanted, ladyship.
Cook-slug swelter, he went too. Same time.
Earl, noble man.
Why didn't anybody tell me?
Only I knew, ladyship. Lordship now.
- Look to duty. - Come back with us, mr flay.
Can't.
I could show you the tunnel.
You could live in the east wing. No-one would find you there.
Banished. That's it.
- Look out for steerpike. - Why?
Why always steerpike? It's not fair!
People don't like him just because he's more brilliant than them, that's all!
At least he talks to me!
And at least he's better than this wild thing!
Please, come back with us, mr flay.
Be ready, lordship. Know tunnel. Will watch.
Come when you need me.
Fuchsia! Fuchsia!
Now you'll learn! Because you'll stay there till you do!
I'm so sorry, nannie.
I don't know what to do.
No-one loves me!
What shall I do?
I can't dream forever.
Lady fuchsia?
I had no idea you'd be here.
I didn't know her well, but I thought...
I'm sure your flowers will please her most.
It's all stupid anyway!
I didn't think you were so sentimental!
I have my moods too.
How dare you?
You please yourself. Why can't I?
You! You! You...!
- I understand. - No, you don't!
If I understand anything, I understand anger!
And that's because I understand what it feels like to be rejected.
And don't think I don't understand loneliness too.
I'm sorry!
No, no! This is horrible!
You're horrible!
You leave me alone! Never come near me!
I can wait.
Stones.
Stones...
Stone.
Rock.
I hate... it... all!