0:00:08 > 0:00:11To begin at the beginning...
0:01:01 > 0:01:02OK.
0:01:05 > 0:01:07INDISTINCT SPEECH
0:01:09 > 0:01:11OK. Stand by.
0:01:19 > 0:01:22Yeah, looking forward or just start looking at the camera?
0:01:22 > 0:01:25- INDISTINCT RESPONSE - OK.
0:01:28 > 0:01:31We're up to speed. Nice and quiet, please.
0:01:31 > 0:01:35OK, stand by, studio. Five, four,
0:01:35 > 0:01:36three...
0:01:45 > 0:01:46To begin at the beginning...
0:01:48 > 0:01:49It is spring.
0:01:51 > 0:01:53Moonless night
0:01:53 > 0:01:55in the small town.
0:01:55 > 0:01:58Starless and bible-black.
0:02:00 > 0:02:03The cobblestreets silent
0:02:03 > 0:02:07and the hunched, courters'-and-rabbits' wood
0:02:07 > 0:02:11limping invisible down to the sloeblack...
0:02:12 > 0:02:17..slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea.
0:02:19 > 0:02:22The houses are blind as moles,
0:02:22 > 0:02:25though moles see fine to-night in the snouting, velvet dingles.
0:02:27 > 0:02:30Or blind as Captain Cat there in the muffled middle
0:02:30 > 0:02:32by the pump and the town clock.
0:02:34 > 0:02:35The shops in mourning,
0:02:35 > 0:02:38the Welfare Hall in widows' weeds.
0:02:40 > 0:02:45And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town
0:02:45 > 0:02:46are sleeping now.
0:02:47 > 0:02:51(Hush, the babies are sleeping.)
0:02:51 > 0:02:54The farmers, the fishers,
0:02:54 > 0:02:56the tradesmen and pensioners,
0:02:56 > 0:02:59cobbler, schoolteacher,
0:02:59 > 0:03:01postman and publican,
0:03:01 > 0:03:05the undertaker and the fancy woman,
0:03:05 > 0:03:07drunkard, dressmaker,
0:03:07 > 0:03:09preacher, policeman,
0:03:09 > 0:03:11the webfoot cocklewomen
0:03:11 > 0:03:13and the tidy wives.
0:03:15 > 0:03:19You can hear the dew falling...
0:03:19 > 0:03:22..and the hushed town...breathing.
0:03:24 > 0:03:27Only your eyes are unclosed
0:03:27 > 0:03:30to see the black and folded town
0:03:30 > 0:03:32fast, and slow, asleep.
0:03:33 > 0:03:35And you alone
0:03:35 > 0:03:39can hear the invisible starfall,
0:03:39 > 0:03:41the darkest-beforedawn
0:03:41 > 0:03:44minutely dewgrazed stir
0:03:44 > 0:03:47of the black, dab-filled sea
0:03:47 > 0:03:50where the Arethusa, the Curlew and the Skylark,
0:03:50 > 0:03:53Zanzibar, Rhiannon, the Rover,
0:03:53 > 0:03:56the Cormorant, and the Star of Wales
0:03:56 > 0:03:58tilt and ride.
0:04:01 > 0:04:02Listen.
0:04:02 > 0:04:04- Listen.- Listen.- Listen.
0:04:04 > 0:04:07It is night moving in the streets,
0:04:07 > 0:04:09the processional salt slow musical wind
0:04:09 > 0:04:12in Coronation Street and Cockle Row...
0:04:15 > 0:04:18..it is the grass growing on Llareggub Hill,
0:04:18 > 0:04:20dewfall,
0:04:20 > 0:04:22starfall...
0:04:23 > 0:04:25..the sleep of birds in Milk Wood.
0:04:27 > 0:04:28Look.
0:04:28 > 0:04:30It is night,
0:04:30 > 0:04:32dumbly, royally winding
0:04:32 > 0:04:34through the Coronation cherry trees,
0:04:34 > 0:04:37going through the graveyard of Bethesda
0:04:37 > 0:04:39with winds gloved and folded,
0:04:39 > 0:04:41and dew doffed - tumbling by the Sailors Arms.
0:04:45 > 0:04:46Time passes.
0:04:48 > 0:04:50Listen.
0:04:52 > 0:04:53Time passes.
0:04:55 > 0:04:57Come closer now.
0:04:57 > 0:04:58Come closer now.
0:04:58 > 0:05:02In the slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night.
0:05:04 > 0:05:06Only you can see,
0:05:06 > 0:05:08in the blinded bedrooms,
0:05:08 > 0:05:11the combs and petticoats over the chairs,
0:05:11 > 0:05:13the jugs and basins,
0:05:13 > 0:05:15the glasses of teeth,
0:05:15 > 0:05:17"Thou Shalt Not" on the wall,
0:05:17 > 0:05:21and the yellowing dickybird-watching pictures of the dead.
0:05:22 > 0:05:26Only you can hear and see,
0:05:26 > 0:05:29behind the eyes of the sleepers,
0:05:29 > 0:05:32the movements and countries
0:05:32 > 0:05:33and mazes and colours
0:05:33 > 0:05:36and dismays and rainbows
0:05:36 > 0:05:38and tunes and wishes
0:05:38 > 0:05:40and flight and fall
0:05:40 > 0:05:44and despairs and big seas of their dreams.
0:05:46 > 0:05:49From where you are,
0:05:49 > 0:05:50you can hear their dreams.
0:05:52 > 0:05:55Captain Cat, the retired blind sea captain,
0:05:55 > 0:05:56asleep in his bunk
0:05:56 > 0:05:58in the seashelled, ship-in-bottled,
0:05:58 > 0:06:01shipshape best cabin of Schooner House
0:06:01 > 0:06:03dreams of...
0:06:03 > 0:06:05Never such seas as any that swamped the decks
0:06:05 > 0:06:07of his SS Kidwelly
0:06:07 > 0:06:09bellying over the bedclothes
0:06:09 > 0:06:12and jellyfish-slippery sucking him down salt deep
0:06:12 > 0:06:13into the Davy dark
0:06:13 > 0:06:17where the fish come biting out and nibble him down to his wishbone,
0:06:17 > 0:06:21and the long drowned nuzzle up to him.
0:06:21 > 0:06:23Remember me, Captain?
0:06:23 > 0:06:27- You're Dancing Williams! - I lost my step in Nantucket.
0:06:27 > 0:06:29Do you see me, Captain?
0:06:29 > 0:06:31The white bone talking?
0:06:31 > 0:06:34I'm Tom-Fred the donkeyman.
0:06:34 > 0:06:37We shared the same girl once...
0:06:37 > 0:06:39her name was Mrs Probert.
0:06:39 > 0:06:42Rosie Probert, 33 Duck Lane.
0:06:42 > 0:06:45Come on up, boys, I'm dead.
0:06:46 > 0:06:49Hold me, Captain, I'm Jonah Jarvis,
0:06:49 > 0:06:53come to a bad end, very enjoyable.
0:06:53 > 0:06:55This skull at your earhole is...
0:06:55 > 0:06:56Curly Bevan.
0:06:56 > 0:06:59Tell my auntie it was me who pawned the ormolu clock.
0:06:59 > 0:07:01Aye, aye, Curly.
0:07:01 > 0:07:03Tell my missus, no, I never.
0:07:03 > 0:07:05I never done what she said, I never.
0:07:05 > 0:07:08- Yes, they did. - How's it above?
0:07:08 > 0:07:09Is there rum and lavabread?
0:07:09 > 0:07:12- Bosoms and robins? - Concertinas?
0:07:12 > 0:07:14- Ebenezer's bell? - Fighting and onions?
0:07:14 > 0:07:15And sparrows and daisies?
0:07:15 > 0:07:17Tiddlers in a jamjar?
0:07:17 > 0:07:19Buttermilk and whippets?
0:07:19 > 0:07:21- Rock-a-bye-baby? - Washing on the line?
0:07:21 > 0:07:23And old girls in the snug?
0:07:23 > 0:07:25How's the tenors in Dowlais?
0:07:25 > 0:07:27Who milks the cows in Maesgwyn?
0:07:27 > 0:07:29When she smiles, is there dimples?
0:07:29 > 0:07:32What's the smell of parsley?
0:07:32 > 0:07:34Oh, my dead dears!
0:07:37 > 0:07:39From where you are, you can hear,
0:07:39 > 0:07:43in Cockle Row in the spring, moonless night,
0:07:43 > 0:07:46Miss Price, dressmaker and sweetshop-keeper,
0:07:46 > 0:07:51- dream of...- Her lover, tall as the town clock tower,
0:07:51 > 0:07:56Samsonsyrup-gold-maned, whacking thighed and piping hot,
0:07:56 > 0:07:59thunderbolt-bass'd and barnacle-breasted,
0:07:59 > 0:08:02flailing up the cockles with his eyes like blowlamps
0:08:02 > 0:08:04and scooping low
0:08:04 > 0:08:06over her lonely, loving
0:08:06 > 0:08:09hotwaterbottled body.
0:08:09 > 0:08:11Myfanwy Price!
0:08:14 > 0:08:15Mr Mog Edwards!
0:08:15 > 0:08:17I am a draper mad with love.
0:08:19 > 0:08:23I love you more than all the flannelette and calico,
0:08:23 > 0:08:26candlewick, dimity, crash and merino,
0:08:26 > 0:08:29tussore, cretonne, crepon, muslin,
0:08:29 > 0:08:33poplin, ticking and twill in the whole Cloth Hall of the world.
0:08:34 > 0:08:38I have come to take you away to my Emporium on the hill,
0:08:38 > 0:08:41where the change hums on wires.
0:08:41 > 0:08:46Throw away your little bedsocks and your Welsh wool knitted jacket.
0:08:46 > 0:08:49I will warm the sheets like an electric toaster.
0:08:49 > 0:08:53I will lie by your side like the Sunday roast.
0:08:53 > 0:08:56I will knit you a wallet of forget-me-not blue,
0:08:56 > 0:08:58for the money to be comfy.
0:09:00 > 0:09:02I will warm your heart by the fire
0:09:02 > 0:09:05so you can slip it in under your vest when the shop is closed.
0:09:05 > 0:09:07Myfanwy, Myfanwy,
0:09:07 > 0:09:12before the mice gnaw at your bottom drawer will you say...
0:09:12 > 0:09:14Yes, Mog.
0:09:14 > 0:09:17Yes, Mog, yes, yes, yes.
0:09:17 > 0:09:20And all the bells of the tills of the town
0:09:20 > 0:09:21shall ring for our wedding.
0:09:24 > 0:09:27Evans the Death, the undertaker
0:09:27 > 0:09:30laughs high and aloud in his sleep
0:09:30 > 0:09:33and curls up his toes as he sees,
0:09:33 > 0:09:35upon waking 50 years ago,
0:09:35 > 0:09:40snow lie deep on the goosefield behind the sleeping house.
0:09:40 > 0:09:42And he runs out into the field
0:09:42 > 0:09:45where his mother is making Welshcakes in the snow
0:09:45 > 0:09:48and steals a fistful of snowflakes and currants
0:09:48 > 0:09:50and climbs back to bed to eat them
0:09:50 > 0:09:55cold and sweet under the warm, white clothes
0:09:55 > 0:09:58while his mother dances in the snow kitchen
0:09:58 > 0:10:00crying out for her lost currants.
0:10:03 > 0:10:07And in the little pink-eyed cottage next to the undertaker's,
0:10:07 > 0:10:12lie, alone, the 17 snoring gentle stone of Mr Waldo,
0:10:12 > 0:10:14rabbitcatcher, barber, herbalist,
0:10:14 > 0:10:16catdoctor, quack,
0:10:16 > 0:10:20his fat, pink hands, palm up, over the edge of the patchwork quilt,
0:10:20 > 0:10:23his black boots neat and tidy in the washing basin,
0:10:23 > 0:10:25his bowler on a nail above the bed,
0:10:25 > 0:10:29a milk stout and a slice of cold bread pudding under the pillow.
0:10:29 > 0:10:31And, dripping in the dark, he dreams of...
0:10:31 > 0:10:34Waldo! Waldo!
0:10:34 > 0:10:38What'll the neighbours say, what'll the neighbours...?
0:10:38 > 0:10:39Poor Mrs Waldo.
0:10:39 > 0:10:41What she puts up with.
0:10:41 > 0:10:43- Never should've married. - If she didn't have to.
0:10:43 > 0:10:45- Same as her mother. - There's a husband for you.
0:10:45 > 0:10:46- Bad as his father. - You know where he ended.
0:10:46 > 0:10:48- Up in the asylum.- Crying for his ma.
0:10:48 > 0:10:50- Every Sunday.- He hadn't got a leg.
0:10:50 > 0:10:52- And carrying on. - With that Mrs Beetie Morris.
0:10:52 > 0:10:54- Up in the quarry.- You seen her baby?
0:10:54 > 0:10:56- It's got his nose. - Oh, it makes my heart bleed.
0:10:56 > 0:10:58- What he'll do for drink. - He sold the pianola.
0:10:58 > 0:10:59And her sewing machine.
0:10:59 > 0:11:01- Falling in the gutter. - Talking to the lamp post.
0:11:01 > 0:11:03- Using language. - Singing in the W.
0:11:03 > 0:11:05Poor Mrs Waldo.
0:11:05 > 0:11:06Waldo.
0:11:06 > 0:11:07- Waldo!- Yes?
0:11:07 > 0:11:12What'll the neighbours say, what'll the neighbours...?
0:11:12 > 0:11:14- Black as a chimbley. - Ringing doorbells.
0:11:14 > 0:11:16- Breaking windows. - Making mudpies.
0:11:16 > 0:11:18- Stealing currants. - Chalking words.
0:11:18 > 0:11:21- Saw him in the bushes. - Playing moochins.
0:11:21 > 0:11:24- Send him to bed without any supper. - Give him senapods and lock him in the dark.
0:11:24 > 0:11:27- Off to the reformatory. - Off to the reformatory!
0:11:27 > 0:11:29Learn him with a slipper on his BTM.
0:11:31 > 0:11:33Now, in her iceberg-white,
0:11:33 > 0:11:36holily laundered crinoline nightgown,
0:11:36 > 0:11:39under virtuous polar sheets,
0:11:39 > 0:11:42in her spruced and scoured dust-defying bedroom
0:11:42 > 0:11:45in trig and trim Bay View,
0:11:45 > 0:11:47a house for paying guests,
0:11:47 > 0:11:49at the top of the town,
0:11:49 > 0:11:51Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard,
0:11:51 > 0:11:53widow, twice,
0:11:53 > 0:11:56of Mr Ogmore, linoleum, retired,
0:11:56 > 0:12:00and Mr Pritchard, failed bookmaker,
0:12:00 > 0:12:04who, maddened by besoming, swabbing and scrubbing,
0:12:04 > 0:12:08the voice of the vacuum-cleaner and the fume of polish,
0:12:08 > 0:12:11ironically swallowed disinfectant,
0:12:11 > 0:12:14fidgets in her rinsed sleep,
0:12:14 > 0:12:16wakes in a dream,
0:12:16 > 0:12:20and nudges in the ribs dead Mr Ogmore,
0:12:20 > 0:12:22dead Mr Pritchard,
0:12:22 > 0:12:24ghostly on either side.
0:12:24 > 0:12:27Mr Ogmore, Mr Pritchard,
0:12:27 > 0:12:29it's time to inhale your balsam.
0:12:29 > 0:12:30Oh, Mrs Ogmore!
0:12:30 > 0:12:33Oh, Mrs Pritchard!
0:12:33 > 0:12:35Soon it will be time to get up.
0:12:35 > 0:12:37Tell me your tasks, in order.
0:12:37 > 0:12:42I must put my pyjamas in the drawer marked "pyjamas".
0:12:42 > 0:12:44I must take my cold bath
0:12:44 > 0:12:45which is good for me.
0:12:45 > 0:12:49I must wear my flannel band to ward off sciatica.
0:12:49 > 0:12:52I must dress behind the curtain and put on my apron.
0:12:52 > 0:12:53I must blow my nose...
0:12:53 > 0:12:55In the garden, if you please.
0:12:55 > 0:12:59..in a piece of tissue-paper which I afterwards burn.
0:12:59 > 0:13:02I must take my salts which are nature's friend.
0:13:02 > 0:13:06I must boil the drinking water because of germs.
0:13:06 > 0:13:08I must make my herb tea
0:13:08 > 0:13:10which is free from tannin.
0:13:10 > 0:13:11And have a charcoal biscuit
0:13:11 > 0:13:13which is good for me.
0:13:13 > 0:13:16I may smoke one pipe of asthma mixture...
0:13:16 > 0:13:19In the woodshed, if you please.
0:13:19 > 0:13:22And dust the parlour and spray the canary.
0:13:22 > 0:13:25I must put on rubber gloves and search the peke for fleas.
0:13:25 > 0:13:28I must dust the blinds and then I must raise them.
0:13:28 > 0:13:30And before you let the sun in,
0:13:30 > 0:13:32mind it wipes its shoes.
0:13:35 > 0:13:39Mrs Rose Cottage's eldest, Mae,
0:13:39 > 0:13:42peels off her pink-and-white skin
0:13:42 > 0:13:45in a furnace in a tower
0:13:45 > 0:13:48in a cave in a waterfall in a wood
0:13:48 > 0:13:51and waits there raw as an onion
0:13:51 > 0:13:54for Mr Right to leap up
0:13:54 > 0:13:58the burning tall hollow splashes of leaves
0:13:58 > 0:14:00like a brilliantined trout.
0:14:02 > 0:14:05Call me Dolores
0:14:05 > 0:14:07like they do in the stories.
0:14:09 > 0:14:11And the Inspectors of Cruelty
0:14:11 > 0:14:15fly down into Mrs Butcher Beynon's dream
0:14:15 > 0:14:19to persecute Mr Beynon for selling owl meat,
0:14:19 > 0:14:23dogs' eyes, manchop.
0:14:23 > 0:14:25Mr Beynon, in butcher's bloodied apron,
0:14:25 > 0:14:27springheels down Coronation Street,
0:14:27 > 0:14:30a finger, not his own, in his mouth.
0:14:30 > 0:14:32Straight-faced in his cunning sleep
0:14:32 > 0:14:34he pulls the legs of his dreams
0:14:34 > 0:14:38and hunting on pigback shoots down the wild giblets.
0:14:38 > 0:14:40HE YELLS
0:14:40 > 0:14:41And in Coronation Street,
0:14:41 > 0:14:43which you alone can see,
0:14:43 > 0:14:46it is so dark under the chapel in the skies,
0:14:46 > 0:14:47the Reverend Eli Jenkins,
0:14:47 > 0:14:49poet, preacher,
0:14:49 > 0:14:52turns in his deep towards-dawn sleep
0:14:52 > 0:14:56- and dreams of...- Eisteddfodau.
0:14:56 > 0:15:00He intricately rhymes the music of crwth and pibgorn,
0:15:00 > 0:15:01all night long
0:15:01 > 0:15:03in his druid's seedy nightie
0:15:03 > 0:15:06in a beer-tent black with parchs.
0:15:06 > 0:15:11Mr Pugh, schoolmaster, fathoms asleep,
0:15:11 > 0:15:13pretends to be sleeping,
0:15:13 > 0:15:17spies foxy round the droop of his nightcap and...
0:15:17 > 0:15:18Pssst....
0:15:18 > 0:15:20..whistles up.
0:15:21 > 0:15:24Murder.
0:15:24 > 0:15:26Mary Ann the Sailors dreams of...
0:15:27 > 0:15:29..The Garden of Eden.
0:15:31 > 0:15:35She comes in her smock-frock and clogs
0:15:35 > 0:15:39away from the cool scrubbed cobbled kitchen
0:15:39 > 0:15:43with the Sunday-school pictures on the whitewashed wall
0:15:43 > 0:15:47and the farmers' almanac hung above the settle
0:15:47 > 0:15:50and the sides of bacon on the ceiling hooks...
0:15:52 > 0:15:55..and goes down the cockleshelled paths
0:15:55 > 0:15:57of that applepie kitchen garden...
0:16:00 > 0:16:03..ducking under the gyppo's clothespegs,
0:16:03 > 0:16:07catching her apron on the blackcurrant bushes,
0:16:07 > 0:16:10past beanrows and onion-bed
0:16:10 > 0:16:13and tomatoes ripening on the wall...
0:16:15 > 0:16:19..towards the old man
0:16:19 > 0:16:23playing the harmonium in the orchard,
0:16:23 > 0:16:27and sits down on the grass at his side...
0:16:29 > 0:16:32..and shells the green peas
0:16:32 > 0:16:36that grow up through the lap of her frock
0:16:36 > 0:16:38that brushes the dew.
0:16:43 > 0:16:46Time passes.
0:16:46 > 0:16:48Listen.
0:16:49 > 0:16:50Time passes.
0:16:52 > 0:16:55An owl flies home past Bethesda, to a chapel in an oak.
0:16:56 > 0:16:59And the dawn inches up.
0:17:06 > 0:17:09The principality of the sky lightens now,
0:17:09 > 0:17:11over our green hill...
0:17:11 > 0:17:14into spring morning
0:17:14 > 0:17:17larked and crowed and belling.
0:17:18 > 0:17:20Stand on this hill.
0:17:20 > 0:17:23This is Llareggub Hill...
0:17:26 > 0:17:29..old as the hills, high,
0:17:29 > 0:17:32cool, and green.
0:17:32 > 0:17:35And from this small circle of stones,
0:17:35 > 0:17:39made not by druids but by Mrs Beynon's Billy,
0:17:39 > 0:17:42you can see all the town below you
0:17:42 > 0:17:46sleeping in the first of the dawn.
0:17:46 > 0:17:50You can hear the love-sick wood pigeons mooning in bed.
0:17:50 > 0:17:53A dog barks in his sleep,
0:17:53 > 0:17:55farmyards away.
0:17:55 > 0:17:59The town ripples
0:17:59 > 0:18:03like a lake in the waking haze.
0:18:03 > 0:18:05BELL RINGS
0:18:09 > 0:18:13Who pulls the townhall bellrope but blind Captain Cat?
0:18:13 > 0:18:17One by one, the sleepers are rung out of sleep this one morning
0:18:17 > 0:18:19as every morning.
0:18:19 > 0:18:23And soon you shall see the chimneys' slow upflying snow
0:18:23 > 0:18:26as Captain Cat, in sailor's cap and seaboots,
0:18:26 > 0:18:30announces to-day with his loud get-out-of-bed bell.
0:18:30 > 0:18:33Now, woken at last by the
0:18:33 > 0:18:36out-of-bed-sleepy-head-Polly-put- the-kettle-on townhall bell,
0:18:36 > 0:18:39Lily Smalls, Mrs Beynon's treasure,
0:18:39 > 0:18:42comes downstairs from a dream of royalty
0:18:42 > 0:18:44who all night long went larking with her
0:18:44 > 0:18:46full of sauce in the Milk Wood dark,
0:18:46 > 0:18:50and puts the kettle on the primus in Mrs Beynon's kitchen
0:18:50 > 0:18:54and looks at herself in Mr Beynon's shaving-glass over the sink
0:18:54 > 0:18:55and sees...
0:18:55 > 0:18:58Oh, there's a face!
0:19:01 > 0:19:03Where you get that hair from?
0:19:03 > 0:19:05Got it from an old tom cat.
0:19:08 > 0:19:09Give it back then, love.
0:19:11 > 0:19:13Oh, there's a perm!
0:19:13 > 0:19:15Where you get that nose from, Lily?
0:19:15 > 0:19:17Got it from my father, silly.
0:19:17 > 0:19:19You've got it on upside down!
0:19:19 > 0:19:21Oh...
0:19:21 > 0:19:23there's a conk!
0:19:23 > 0:19:26Look at your complexion! Oh, no, you look.
0:19:26 > 0:19:28Needs a bit of make-up. Needs a veil!
0:19:29 > 0:19:33Oh, there's glamour(!)
0:19:38 > 0:19:40Where you get that smile, Lil?
0:19:40 > 0:19:41Never you mind, girl.
0:19:41 > 0:19:43Nobody loves you. That's what you think.
0:19:43 > 0:19:45Who is it loves you? Shan't tell.
0:19:45 > 0:19:46Oh, come on, Lily!
0:19:47 > 0:19:49Cross your heart, then?
0:19:49 > 0:19:51Cross my heart.
0:19:51 > 0:19:52< Lily!
0:19:52 > 0:19:55- Yes, Mum?- Where's my tea, girl?
0:19:55 > 0:19:58(Where do you think? In the cat-box?)
0:19:58 > 0:20:00Coming up, Mum!
0:20:04 > 0:20:08Mr Pugh, in the schoolhouse opposite,
0:20:08 > 0:20:11takes up the morning tea to Mrs Pugh,
0:20:11 > 0:20:13and whispers on the stairs...
0:20:13 > 0:20:16(Here's your arsenic, dear.
0:20:16 > 0:20:18(And your weedkiller biscuit.
0:20:18 > 0:20:21(I've throttled your parakeet.
0:20:21 > 0:20:23(I've spat in the vases.
0:20:24 > 0:20:26(I've put cheese in the mouseholes.
0:20:28 > 0:20:29(Here's your...)
0:20:32 > 0:20:34Nice tea, dear?
0:20:34 > 0:20:35Too much sugar.
0:20:35 > 0:20:37You haven't tasted it yet, dear.
0:20:37 > 0:20:38Too much milk, then.
0:20:40 > 0:20:42Give me my glasses.
0:20:42 > 0:20:44No, not my reading glasses,
0:20:44 > 0:20:46I want to look out.
0:20:47 > 0:20:49I want to see.
0:20:50 > 0:20:52Organ Morgan at his bedroom window
0:20:52 > 0:20:56playing chords on the sill to the morning fishwife gulls
0:20:56 > 0:20:58who, heckling over Donkey Street, observe.
0:21:00 > 0:21:03Me, Dai Bread, hurrying to the bakery,
0:21:03 > 0:21:07pushing in my shirt-tails, buttoning my waistcoat,
0:21:07 > 0:21:08ping goes a button.
0:21:08 > 0:21:10Why can't they sew them?
0:21:10 > 0:21:12No time for breakfast,
0:21:12 > 0:21:15nothing FOR breakfast.
0:21:15 > 0:21:16There's wives for you.
0:21:21 > 0:21:23Me, Mrs Dai Bread One,
0:21:23 > 0:21:27capped and shawled and no old corset,
0:21:27 > 0:21:30nice to be comfy, nice to be nice,
0:21:30 > 0:21:32clogging on the cobbles to stir up a neighbour.
0:21:32 > 0:21:36Oh, Mrs Sarah, can you spare a loaf, love?
0:21:36 > 0:21:39Dai Bread forgot the bread.
0:21:39 > 0:21:41Me, Mrs Dai Bread Two,
0:21:41 > 0:21:42gypsied to kill
0:21:42 > 0:21:45in a silky scarlet petticoat above my knees,
0:21:45 > 0:21:46dirty pretty knees.
0:21:46 > 0:21:48See my body through my petticoat
0:21:48 > 0:21:49brown as a berry,
0:21:49 > 0:21:52high-heel shoes with one heel missing,
0:21:52 > 0:21:55tortoiseshell comb in my bright black slinky hair,
0:21:55 > 0:21:58nothing else at all but a dab of scent,
0:21:58 > 0:22:00lolling gaudy at the doorway,
0:22:00 > 0:22:02tell your fortune in the tea-leaves,
0:22:02 > 0:22:03scowling at the sunshine,
0:22:03 > 0:22:05lighting up my pipe.
0:22:07 > 0:22:09Me, Nogood Boyo,
0:22:09 > 0:22:11up to no good in the wash-house.
0:22:14 > 0:22:17Me, Miss Price, in my pretty print housecoat,
0:22:17 > 0:22:21deft at the clothesline, natty as a jenny-wren,
0:22:21 > 0:22:24then pit-pat back to my egg in its cosy,
0:22:24 > 0:22:26my crisp toast-fingers,
0:22:26 > 0:22:29my home-made plum and butterpat.
0:22:30 > 0:22:33Me, Polly Garter, under the washing line,
0:22:33 > 0:22:37giving the breast in the garden to my bonny new baby.
0:22:37 > 0:22:41Nothing grows in our garden, only washing.
0:22:41 > 0:22:42And babies.
0:22:42 > 0:22:45And where's their fathers live, my love?
0:22:45 > 0:22:47Over the hills and far away.
0:22:47 > 0:22:49You're looking up at me now.
0:22:49 > 0:22:53I know what you're thinking, you poor little milky creature.
0:22:53 > 0:22:57You're thinking, you're no better than you should be, Polly,
0:22:57 > 0:22:59and that's good enough for me.
0:22:59 > 0:23:02Oh, isn't life a terrible thing,
0:23:02 > 0:23:03thank God?
0:23:09 > 0:23:11Now, frying-pans spit,
0:23:11 > 0:23:15kettles and cats purr in the kitchen.
0:23:15 > 0:23:18The town smells of seaweed and breakfast
0:23:18 > 0:23:20all the way down from Bay View,
0:23:20 > 0:23:23where Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard, in smock and turban,
0:23:23 > 0:23:27big-besomed to engage the dust,
0:23:27 > 0:23:30picks at her starchless bread
0:23:30 > 0:23:32and sips lemon-rind tea...
0:23:32 > 0:23:36To Bottom Cottage, where Mr Waldo,
0:23:36 > 0:23:37in bowler and bib,
0:23:37 > 0:23:39gobbles his bubble-and-squeak and kippers
0:23:39 > 0:23:42and swigs from the saucebottle.
0:23:43 > 0:23:45Mary Ann Sailors
0:23:45 > 0:23:48praises the Lord who made porridge.
0:23:49 > 0:23:50Mr Pugh...
0:23:52 > 0:23:56..remembers ground glass as he juggles his omelette.
0:23:57 > 0:24:01Mrs Pugh nags the salt-cellar.
0:24:03 > 0:24:06From Beynon butchers in Coronation Street,
0:24:06 > 0:24:09the smell of fried liver sidles out
0:24:09 > 0:24:11with onions on its breath.
0:24:11 > 0:24:13And listen!
0:24:13 > 0:24:15In the dark breakfast room behind the shop,
0:24:15 > 0:24:17Mr and Mrs Beynon,
0:24:17 > 0:24:19waited upon by their treasure,
0:24:19 > 0:24:22enjoy, between bites, their every morning hullabaloo,
0:24:22 > 0:24:26and Mrs Beynon slips the gristly bits under the tasselled tablecloth
0:24:26 > 0:24:27to her fat cat.
0:24:27 > 0:24:29She likes the liver, Ben.
0:24:29 > 0:24:32She ought to do, Bess, it's her brother's.
0:24:32 > 0:24:35Oh, do you hear that, Lily?
0:24:35 > 0:24:37Yes, Mum.
0:24:37 > 0:24:38We're eating pusscat.
0:24:38 > 0:24:40Yes, Mum.
0:24:40 > 0:24:42Oh, you cat-butcher!
0:24:42 > 0:24:44It was doctored, mind.
0:24:44 > 0:24:46What's that got to do with it?
0:24:46 > 0:24:48Yesterday we had mole.
0:24:48 > 0:24:50Oh, Lily! Lily!
0:24:50 > 0:24:53Monday, otter. Tuesday, shrews.
0:24:53 > 0:24:54Oh!
0:24:54 > 0:24:58Go on, Mrs Beynon. He's the biggest liar in town.
0:24:58 > 0:25:01Don't you dare say that about Mr Beynon.
0:25:01 > 0:25:02Everybody knows it, Mum.
0:25:02 > 0:25:05Mr Beynon never tells a lie.
0:25:05 > 0:25:08- Do you, Ben?- No, Bess.
0:25:08 > 0:25:11And now I am going out after the corgis,
0:25:11 > 0:25:13with my little cleaver.
0:25:15 > 0:25:18Up the street, in the Sailors' Arms,
0:25:18 > 0:25:21Sinbad Sailors, grandson of Mary Ann the Sailors,
0:25:21 > 0:25:23draws a pint in the sunlit bar.
0:25:23 > 0:25:26The ship's clock in the bar says half past 11.
0:25:26 > 0:25:29Half past 11 is opening time.
0:25:29 > 0:25:31The hands of the clock have stayed still at half past 11
0:25:31 > 0:25:33for 50 years.
0:25:33 > 0:25:35It's always opening time in the Sailors' Arms.
0:25:35 > 0:25:37Here's to me, Sinbad.
0:25:38 > 0:25:41Nogood Boyo goes out in the dinghy Zanzibar,
0:25:41 > 0:25:43ships the oars,
0:25:43 > 0:25:45drifts slowly in the dab-filled bay,
0:25:45 > 0:25:48and, lying on his back in the unbaled water,
0:25:48 > 0:25:51among crabs' legs and tangled lines,
0:25:51 > 0:25:53looks up at the spring sky.
0:25:53 > 0:25:55I don't know who's up there and I don't care.
0:26:01 > 0:26:05He turns his head and looks up at Llareggub Hill,
0:26:05 > 0:26:09and sees, among green lathered trees,
0:26:09 > 0:26:12the white houses of the strewn away farms,
0:26:12 > 0:26:15where farmboys whistle,
0:26:15 > 0:26:17dogs shout,
0:26:17 > 0:26:19cows low,
0:26:19 > 0:26:22but all too far away for him,
0:26:22 > 0:26:25or you, to hear.
0:26:25 > 0:26:29And in the town, the shops squeak open.
0:26:29 > 0:26:30Mr Edwards,
0:26:30 > 0:26:35in butterfly-collar and straw-hat at the doorway of Manchester House,
0:26:35 > 0:26:38measures, with his eye, the dawdlers by,
0:26:38 > 0:26:41for striped flannel shirts and shrouds
0:26:41 > 0:26:43and flowery blouses,
0:26:43 > 0:26:47and bellows to himself, in the darkness behind his eye.
0:26:47 > 0:26:50I love Miss Price.
0:26:50 > 0:26:53And, sitting at the open window of Schooner House,
0:26:53 > 0:26:58blind Captain Cat hears all the morning of the town.
0:26:59 > 0:27:01That's Willy Nilly knocking at Bay View.
0:27:01 > 0:27:03Rat-a-Tat, very soft.
0:27:03 > 0:27:05The knocker's got a kid glove on.
0:27:05 > 0:27:07Who's sent a litter to Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard?
0:27:07 > 0:27:08KNOCKING
0:27:08 > 0:27:11Careful now, she swabs the front glassy.
0:27:11 > 0:27:13Every step's like a bar of soap.
0:27:13 > 0:27:14Mind your size twelveses.
0:27:14 > 0:27:19That old Bessie would beeswax the lawn to make the birds slip.
0:27:19 > 0:27:20Morning, Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard.
0:27:20 > 0:27:22Good morning, postman.
0:27:22 > 0:27:25Here's a letter for you with stamped and addressed envelope enclosed,
0:27:25 > 0:27:26all the way from Builth Wells.
0:27:26 > 0:27:28A gentleman wants to study birds
0:27:28 > 0:27:31and can he have accommodation for two weeks and a bath, vegetarian.
0:27:31 > 0:27:34- No.- You wouldn't even know he was in the house, Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard.
0:27:34 > 0:27:35He'd be out in the mornings at the bang of dawn
0:27:35 > 0:27:38with his bag of breadcrumbs and his little telescope.
0:27:38 > 0:27:41And come home at all hours covered with feathers.
0:27:41 > 0:27:44I don't want persons in my nice clean rooms
0:27:44 > 0:27:46breathing all over the chairs.
0:27:46 > 0:27:48Cross my heart, he won't breathe.
0:27:48 > 0:27:51And putting their feet on my carpets
0:27:51 > 0:27:54and sneezing on my china
0:27:54 > 0:27:56and sleeping in my sheets.
0:27:56 > 0:27:59He only wants a single bed, Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard.
0:27:59 > 0:28:01DOOR SLAMS And back she goes to the kitchen,
0:28:01 > 0:28:04to polish the potatoes.
0:28:04 > 0:28:08Captain Cat hears Willy Nilly's feet heavy on the distant cobbles.
0:28:08 > 0:28:11One, two, three, four...
0:28:11 > 0:28:12five.
0:28:12 > 0:28:13KNOCKING
0:28:13 > 0:28:16- He's stopping at schoolhouse. - Morning, Mrs Pugh.
0:28:16 > 0:28:18Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard won't have a gentleman in
0:28:18 > 0:28:19because he'll sleep in her sheets.
0:28:19 > 0:28:21Give me the parcel.
0:28:21 > 0:28:22It's for Mr Pugh, Mrs Pugh.
0:28:22 > 0:28:24Never you mind.
0:28:24 > 0:28:25What's inside it?
0:28:25 > 0:28:28A book called Lives Of The Great Poisoners.
0:28:31 > 0:28:32That's Manchester House.
0:28:32 > 0:28:34Morning, Mr Edwards. Very small news.
0:28:34 > 0:28:36Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard won't have birds in the house,
0:28:36 > 0:28:38and Mr Pugh's....
0:28:38 > 0:28:40(bought a book now on how to do in Mrs Pugh.)
0:28:40 > 0:28:42Have you got a letter from HER?
0:28:42 > 0:28:44Miss Price loves you with all her heart.
0:28:44 > 0:28:46Smelling of lavender today.
0:28:46 > 0:28:48She's down to the last of the elderflower wine
0:28:48 > 0:28:51but the quince jam's bearing up and she's knitting roses on the doilies.
0:28:51 > 0:28:54Last week she sold three jars of boiled sweets,
0:28:54 > 0:28:56pound of humbugs,
0:28:56 > 0:28:59half a box of jellybabies and six coloured photos of Llareggub.
0:28:59 > 0:29:02Yours for ever. Then 21 Xs.
0:29:02 > 0:29:04HE SIGHS
0:29:04 > 0:29:07Oh, Willy Nilly, she's a ruby!
0:29:07 > 0:29:09Here's my letter.
0:29:09 > 0:29:11Put it into her hands now.
0:29:11 > 0:29:13Mr Waldo hurrying to the Sailors' Arms.
0:29:13 > 0:29:15Pint of stout with an egg in it.
0:29:15 > 0:29:17There's a letter for him.
0:29:17 > 0:29:21It's another paternity summons, Mr Waldo.
0:29:25 > 0:29:27All the women are out this morning, in the sun.
0:29:27 > 0:29:29You can tell it's spring.
0:29:29 > 0:29:32That's Mrs Dai Bread One, walking up the street like a jelly,
0:29:32 > 0:29:35every time she shakes it's slap, slap, slap.
0:29:35 > 0:29:37Who's that?
0:29:37 > 0:29:39Mrs Butcher Beynon with her pet black cat,
0:29:39 > 0:29:41it follows her everywhere, meow and all.
0:29:41 > 0:29:47High heels now, in the morning, too, Mrs Rose-Cottage's eldest,
0:29:47 > 0:29:51Mae, 17 and never been kissed, ho-ho!
0:29:51 > 0:29:53Going young and milking under my window to the field
0:29:53 > 0:29:56with the nanny goats, she reminds me all the way.
0:29:58 > 0:30:00Can't hear what the girls are gabbing round the pump.
0:30:00 > 0:30:02Same as ever.
0:30:02 > 0:30:05Who's having a baby, who blacked whose eye,
0:30:05 > 0:30:08seen Polly Garter giving her belly an airing, there should be a law,
0:30:08 > 0:30:13seen Mrs Beynon's new mauve jumper, it's her old grey jumper, dyed,
0:30:13 > 0:30:17who's dead, who's dying, there's a lovely day,
0:30:17 > 0:30:19oh, the cost of soapflakes!
0:30:19 > 0:30:21Somebody's coming.
0:30:21 > 0:30:25Now the voices round the pump can see somebody coming.
0:30:27 > 0:30:29Hush, there's a hush?
0:30:29 > 0:30:34You can tell by the noise of the hush, it's Polly Garter.
0:30:34 > 0:30:36Hullo, Polly, who's there?
0:30:36 > 0:30:39- Me, love. - That's Polly Garter.
0:30:41 > 0:30:43Hullo, Polly, my love.
0:30:44 > 0:30:47Can you hear the dumb goose-hiss of the wives as they huddle
0:30:47 > 0:30:50and peck or flounce at a waddle away?
0:30:51 > 0:30:52Who cuddled you when?
0:30:52 > 0:30:56Which of their gandering hubbies moaned in Milk Wood
0:30:56 > 0:31:00for your naughty mothering arms and body like a wardrobe, love?
0:31:00 > 0:31:02Scrub the floors of the Welfare Hall
0:31:02 > 0:31:07for the Mothers' Union Social Dance, you're one mother won't
0:31:07 > 0:31:11wriggle her roly poly bum or pat her fat little buttery foot
0:31:11 > 0:31:16in that wedding-ringed holy tonight, though the waltzing breadwinners
0:31:16 > 0:31:19snatched from the cosy smoke of the Sailors' Arms will grizzle and mope.
0:31:19 > 0:31:21COCK CROWS
0:31:21 > 0:31:24Too late, cock, too late.
0:31:24 > 0:31:26For the town's half over with it's morning.
0:31:26 > 0:31:28The morning's busy as bees.
0:31:29 > 0:31:32There's the clip-clop of horses on the sunhoneyed
0:31:32 > 0:31:34cobbles of the humming streets,
0:31:34 > 0:31:37hammering of horseshoes, gobble quack and cackle,
0:31:37 > 0:31:42tomtit twitter from the bird-ounced boughs, braying on Donkey Down.
0:31:43 > 0:31:48Bread is baking, pigs are grunting, chop goes the butcher,
0:31:48 > 0:31:53milk churns bell, tills ring, sheep cough, dogs shout, saws sing.
0:31:54 > 0:31:58Oh, the spring whinny and morning moo
0:31:58 > 0:32:01from the clog dancing farms, the gulls' gab
0:32:01 > 0:32:05and rabble on the boat bobbing river and sea and the cockles bubbling
0:32:05 > 0:32:10in the sand, scamper of sanderlings, curlew cry, crow caw, pigeon coo,
0:32:10 > 0:32:16clock strike, bull bellow, and the ragged gabble of the beargarden
0:32:16 > 0:32:21school as the women scratch and babble in Mrs Organ Morgan's
0:32:21 > 0:32:26general shop where everything is sold - custard, buckets,
0:32:26 > 0:32:31henna, rat-traps, shrimp nets, sugar, stamps, confetti,
0:32:31 > 0:32:33paraffin, hatchets, whistles.
0:32:35 > 0:32:36PHONE RINGS
0:32:38 > 0:32:41- Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard. - La di da.
0:32:41 > 0:32:43Got a man in Builth Wells.
0:32:43 > 0:32:45And he got a little telescope to look at birds.
0:32:45 > 0:32:46Willy Nilly said...
0:32:46 > 0:32:49Remember her first husband? He didn't need a telescope.
0:32:49 > 0:32:51He looked at them undressing through the keyhole.
0:32:51 > 0:32:53And he used to shout "Tally-ho".
0:32:53 > 0:32:55But Mr Ogmore was a proper gentleman.
0:32:55 > 0:32:57Even though he hanged his collie.
0:32:57 > 0:32:59Seen Mrs Butcher Beynon?
0:32:59 > 0:33:01She said Butcher Beynon put dogs in the mincer.
0:33:01 > 0:33:03Go on! He's puling her leg.
0:33:03 > 0:33:05Now don't you dare tell her that, there's a dear.
0:33:05 > 0:33:07Or she'll think he's trying to pull it off and eat it!
0:33:07 > 0:33:09There's a nasty lot live here when you come to think.
0:33:09 > 0:33:11Look at that Nogood Boyo now.
0:33:11 > 0:33:13Too lazy to wipe his snout.
0:33:13 > 0:33:14And going out fishing every day,
0:33:14 > 0:33:16and all he ever brought back was a Mrs Samuels.
0:33:16 > 0:33:18Been in the water a week.
0:33:18 > 0:33:20And look at Ocky Milkman's wife that nobody's ever seen.
0:33:20 > 0:33:22He keeps her in the cupboard with the empties!
0:33:22 > 0:33:24And think of Dai Bread with two wives.
0:33:24 > 0:33:27One for the daytime, one for the night.
0:33:29 > 0:33:31Men are brutes on the quiet.
0:33:31 > 0:33:33And in Willy Nilly the Postman's
0:33:33 > 0:33:37dark and sizzling damp tea-coated misty pygmy kitchen where the
0:33:37 > 0:33:42spittingcat kettles throb and hop on the range, Mrs Willy Nilly
0:33:42 > 0:33:47steams open Mr Mog Edwards' letter to Miss Myfanwy Price
0:33:47 > 0:33:52and reads it aloud to Willy Nilly by the squint of the Spring sun through
0:33:52 > 0:33:58the one sealed window running with tears, while the drugged,
0:33:58 > 0:34:01bedraggled hens at the back door whimper
0:34:01 > 0:34:04and snivel for the lickerish bog-black tea.
0:34:06 > 0:34:07Beloved Mafanwy Price,
0:34:07 > 0:34:09my bride in heaven.
0:34:10 > 0:34:12I love you until death do us part
0:34:12 > 0:34:15and then we shall be together for ever and ever.
0:34:16 > 0:34:20A new parcel of ribbons has come from Carmarthen today,
0:34:20 > 0:34:21all the colours in the rainbow.
0:34:22 > 0:34:27I wish I could tie a ribbon in your hair, a white one, but it cannot be.
0:34:27 > 0:34:30I dreamed last night you were all dripping wet and you
0:34:30 > 0:34:33sat on my lap as the Reverend Jenkins went down the street.
0:34:33 > 0:34:36"I see you've got a mermaid in your lap," he said and he lifted his hat.
0:34:36 > 0:34:40He's a proper Christian. Not like Cherry Owen who said,
0:34:40 > 0:34:44"You should have thrown her back!" he said. Business is very poorly.
0:34:44 > 0:34:46Poly Garter bought two garters with roses
0:34:46 > 0:34:50but she never got stockings so what is the use, I say?
0:34:50 > 0:34:53Mr Waldo tried to sell me a woman's nightie, outsize, he said
0:34:53 > 0:34:55he found it and we know where.
0:34:55 > 0:34:59I sold a packet of pins to Tom the Sailors to pick his teeth.
0:34:59 > 0:35:01If this goes on I shall be in a workhouse.
0:35:02 > 0:35:06My heart is in your bosom and yours is in mine.
0:35:06 > 0:35:10God be with you always Myfanwy Price and keep you lovely for me
0:35:10 > 0:35:11in His Heavenly Mansion.
0:35:13 > 0:35:18I must stop now and remain, Your Eternal, Mog Edwards.
0:35:18 > 0:35:23And then a little message with a rubber stamp, "Shop at Mog's"!
0:35:23 > 0:35:24Mrs Dai Bread One
0:35:24 > 0:35:28and Mrs Dai Bread Two are sitting outside their house in
0:35:28 > 0:35:34Donkey Lane, one darkly one plumply blooming in the quick, dewy sun.
0:35:34 > 0:35:39Mrs Dai Bread Two is looking into a crystal ball which she holds in the
0:35:39 > 0:35:45lap of her dirty yellow petticoat, hard against her hard dark thighs.
0:35:45 > 0:35:50Cross my palm with silver. Out of our housekeeping money.
0:35:50 > 0:35:52- Aah!- What do you see, lovey?
0:35:52 > 0:35:56I see a feather bed. With three pillows on it.
0:35:56 > 0:35:59And a text above the bed.
0:35:59 > 0:36:03I can't read what it says, there's great clouds blowing.
0:36:03 > 0:36:05Ooh, now they've blown away.
0:36:05 > 0:36:08"God is Love", the text says.
0:36:08 > 0:36:09That's our bed.
0:36:09 > 0:36:11And now it's vanished.
0:36:11 > 0:36:13The sun spinning like a top.
0:36:13 > 0:36:15Who's this coming out of the sun?
0:36:15 > 0:36:18It's a hairy little man with big pink lips,
0:36:18 > 0:36:20he's got a wall eye.
0:36:20 > 0:36:24- It's Dai, it's Dai Bread! - Ssh! The feather bed's floating back.
0:36:25 > 0:36:27The little man's taking his boots off.
0:36:27 > 0:36:30He's pulling his shirt over his head.
0:36:30 > 0:36:34He's beating his chest with his fists. He's climbing into bed.
0:36:34 > 0:36:36Go on, go on.
0:36:36 > 0:36:38There's two women in bed.
0:36:38 > 0:36:42He looks at them both, with his head cocked on one side.
0:36:42 > 0:36:45He's whistling through his teeth.
0:36:45 > 0:36:48Now he grips his little arms around one of the women.
0:36:49 > 0:36:52Which one, which one?
0:36:52 > 0:36:54I can't see any more.
0:36:54 > 0:36:57There's great clouds blowing again.
0:36:57 > 0:37:01Ach, the mean old clouds!
0:37:01 > 0:37:03The morning is all singing.
0:37:03 > 0:37:07The Reverend Eli Jenkins, busy on his morning calls,
0:37:07 > 0:37:11stops outside the Welfare Hall to hear Polly Garter as
0:37:11 > 0:37:15she scrubs the floors for the Mothers' Union Dance to-night.
0:37:15 > 0:37:16# ..was Tom
0:37:16 > 0:37:22# He was strong as a bear and two yards long
0:37:22 > 0:37:28# I loved a man whose name was Dick
0:37:28 > 0:37:35# He was big as a barrel and three feet thick
0:37:35 > 0:37:41# And I loved a man whose name was Harry
0:37:41 > 0:37:48# Six feet tall and sweet as a cherry
0:37:48 > 0:37:55# But the one I loved best awake or asleep
0:37:55 > 0:38:02# Was little Willy Wee and he's six feet deep
0:38:04 > 0:38:08# Oh, Tom, Dick and Harry were three fine men
0:38:08 > 0:38:14# And I'll never have such loving again
0:38:14 > 0:38:21# But little Willy Wee who took me on his knee
0:38:21 > 0:38:28# Little Willy Wee was the man for me
0:38:31 > 0:38:37# Now, men from every parish round
0:38:37 > 0:38:43# Run after me and roll me on the ground
0:38:43 > 0:38:48# But whenever I love another man back
0:38:48 > 0:38:55# Johnnie from the Hill or Sailing Jack
0:38:55 > 0:39:01# I always think as they do what they please
0:39:01 > 0:39:06# Of Tom, Dick and Harry who were tall as trees
0:39:08 > 0:39:14# And most I think when I'm by their side
0:39:14 > 0:39:21# Of little Willy Wee who downed and died. #
0:39:21 > 0:39:26Praise the Lord! We are a musical nation.
0:39:31 > 0:39:36In the blind-drawn dark dining-room of schoolhouse, dusty
0:39:36 > 0:39:39and echoing as a dining-room in a vault,
0:39:39 > 0:39:44Mr and Mrs Pugh are silent over cold grey cottage pie.
0:39:44 > 0:39:50Mr Pugh reads, as he forks the shroud meat in,
0:39:50 > 0:39:52from Lives Of The Great Poisoners.
0:39:52 > 0:39:55He has bound a plain brown-paper cover round the book.
0:39:55 > 0:39:58Slyly, between slow mouthfuls,
0:39:58 > 0:40:01he sidespies up at Mrs Pugh,
0:40:01 > 0:40:04poisons her with his eye, then goes on reading.
0:40:04 > 0:40:10He underlines certain passages and smiles in secret.
0:40:11 > 0:40:15Persons with manners do not read at table.
0:40:15 > 0:40:18Says Mrs Pugh.
0:40:18 > 0:40:20She swallows a digestive tablet as big as a horse-pill,
0:40:20 > 0:40:24washing it down with clouded peasoup water.
0:40:24 > 0:40:29Some persons were brought up in pigsties.
0:40:29 > 0:40:31Pigs don't read at table, dear.
0:40:32 > 0:40:36Bitterly she flicks dust from the broken cruet.
0:40:36 > 0:40:39It settles on the pie in a thin gnat-rain.
0:40:39 > 0:40:42Pigs can't read, my dear.
0:40:42 > 0:40:44I know one who can.
0:40:44 > 0:40:47Alone in the hissing laboratory of his wishes,
0:40:47 > 0:40:54Mr Pugh minces among bad vats and jeroboams, tiptoes through spinneys
0:40:54 > 0:41:00of murdering herbs, agony dancing in his crucibles, and mixes especially
0:41:00 > 0:41:04for Mrs Pugh a venomous porridge
0:41:04 > 0:41:07unknown to toxicologists which will scald
0:41:07 > 0:41:12and viper through her until her ears fall off like figs, her toes grow
0:41:12 > 0:41:19big and black as balloons, and steam comes screaming out of her navel.
0:41:19 > 0:41:20You know best, dear.
0:41:20 > 0:41:24Says Mr Pugh and quick as a flash he ducks her in rat soup.
0:41:24 > 0:41:27What's that book by your trough, Mr Pugh?
0:41:29 > 0:41:34It's a theological work, my dear. Lives Of The Great Saints.
0:41:35 > 0:41:41I saw you talking to a saint this morning. Saint Polly Garter.
0:41:41 > 0:41:45She was martyred again last night.
0:41:45 > 0:41:52# But I always think as we tumble into bed
0:41:52 > 0:42:01# Of little Willy Wee who is dead, dead, dead...#
0:42:04 > 0:42:07The sunny slow lulling afternoon yawns
0:42:07 > 0:42:10and moons through the dozy town.
0:42:10 > 0:42:15The sea lolls, laps and idles in, with fishes sleeping in its lap.
0:42:15 > 0:42:20The meadows still as Sunday, the shut-eye tasselled bulls,
0:42:20 > 0:42:23the goat-and-daisy dingles, nap happy and lazy.
0:42:23 > 0:42:31The dumb duck-ponds snooze. Clouds sag and pillow on Llareggub Hill.
0:42:31 > 0:42:32Persons with manners...
0:42:32 > 0:42:34Snaps Mrs cold Pugh...
0:42:34 > 0:42:37..do not nod at table.
0:42:37 > 0:42:39Mr Pugh cringes awake.
0:42:39 > 0:42:42He puts on a soft-soaping smile,
0:42:42 > 0:42:47it is sad and grey under his nicotine-eggyellow weeping walrus
0:42:47 > 0:42:53Victorian moustache worn thick and long in memory of Doctor Crippen.
0:42:53 > 0:42:57You should wait until you retire to your sty...
0:42:57 > 0:43:00Says Mrs Pugh, sweet as a razor.
0:43:00 > 0:43:05His fawning measly quarter-smile freezes.
0:43:05 > 0:43:09Sly and silent, he foxes into his chemist's den and there,
0:43:09 > 0:43:13in a hiss and prussic circle of cauldrons
0:43:13 > 0:43:18and phials brimful with pox and the Black Death, cooks up a fricassee
0:43:18 > 0:43:24of deadly nightshade, nicotine, hot frog, cyanide and bat-spit for his
0:43:24 > 0:43:32needling stalactite hag and bednag of a pokerbacked nutcracker wife.
0:43:32 > 0:43:34I beg your pardon, my dear.
0:43:34 > 0:43:37He murmurs, with a wheedle.
0:43:37 > 0:43:40Captain Cat, at his window thrown wide to the sun
0:43:40 > 0:43:42and the clippered seas he sailed long ago
0:43:42 > 0:43:46when his eyes were blue and bright, slumbers and voyages,
0:43:46 > 0:43:49ear-ringed and rolling, "I Love You, Rosie Probert"
0:43:49 > 0:43:50tattooed on his belly,
0:43:50 > 0:43:52he brawls with broken bottles
0:43:52 > 0:43:55in the fug and babble of the dark dock bars,
0:43:55 > 0:43:59roves with a herd of short and good-time cows in every naughty port
0:43:59 > 0:44:05and twines and souses with the drowned and blowzy-breasted dead.
0:44:05 > 0:44:09He weeps as he sleeps and sails,
0:44:09 > 0:44:12and the tears run down his grog-blossomed nose.
0:44:13 > 0:44:18One voice of all he remembers most dearly as his dream buckets down.
0:44:20 > 0:44:24Lazy early Rosie with the flaxen thatch, whom he shared with Tom-Fred
0:44:24 > 0:44:30the donkeyman and many another seaman, clearly and near to him,
0:44:30 > 0:44:32speaks from the bedroom of her dust.
0:44:32 > 0:44:37In that gulf and haven, fleets by the dozen have anchored for the
0:44:37 > 0:44:42little heaven of the night, but she speaks to Captain napping Cat alone.
0:44:42 > 0:44:43Mrs Probert...
0:44:43 > 0:44:48From Duck Lane, Jack. Quack twice and ask for Rosie.
0:44:48 > 0:44:54..is the one love of his sea-life that was sardined with women.
0:44:54 > 0:44:56What seas did you see
0:44:56 > 0:44:58Tom Cat, Tom Cat
0:44:58 > 0:45:01In your sailoring days?
0:45:01 > 0:45:05What sea beasts were In the wavery green
0:45:05 > 0:45:07When you were my master?
0:45:09 > 0:45:11I'll tell you the truth.
0:45:11 > 0:45:14Seas barking like seals
0:45:14 > 0:45:16Blue seas and green
0:45:17 > 0:45:19Seas covered with eels
0:45:19 > 0:45:22And mermen and whales.
0:45:22 > 0:45:24What seas did you sail
0:45:24 > 0:45:26Old whaler when
0:45:26 > 0:45:29On the blubbery waves
0:45:29 > 0:45:31Between Frisco and Wales
0:45:31 > 0:45:33You were my bosun?
0:45:33 > 0:45:35As true as I'm here
0:45:35 > 0:45:38Dear you Tom Cat's tart
0:45:38 > 0:45:40You landlubber Rosie
0:45:40 > 0:45:43You cosy love
0:45:43 > 0:45:45My easy as easy
0:45:45 > 0:45:47My true sweetheart
0:45:47 > 0:45:49Seas green as a bean
0:45:49 > 0:45:52Seas gliding with swans
0:45:52 > 0:45:55In the seal-barking moon.
0:45:55 > 0:45:57What seas were rocking
0:45:57 > 0:46:00My little deck hand
0:46:00 > 0:46:02My favourite husband
0:46:02 > 0:46:06In your seaboots and hunger
0:46:06 > 0:46:09My duck my whaler
0:46:09 > 0:46:12My honey my daddy
0:46:13 > 0:46:16My pretty sugar sailor
0:46:16 > 0:46:18With my name on your belly
0:46:19 > 0:46:21When you were a boy
0:46:21 > 0:46:24Long long ago?
0:46:24 > 0:46:27I'll tell you no lies.
0:46:27 > 0:46:29The only sea I saw
0:46:29 > 0:46:31Was the seesaw sea
0:46:31 > 0:46:34With you riding on it.
0:46:34 > 0:46:38Lie down, lie easy.
0:46:40 > 0:46:44Let me shipwreck in your thighs.
0:46:44 > 0:46:46Knock twice, Jack
0:46:46 > 0:46:48At the door of my grave
0:46:48 > 0:46:50And ask for Rosie.
0:46:51 > 0:46:53Rosie Probert.
0:46:53 > 0:46:56Remember her.
0:46:56 > 0:46:57She is forgetting.
0:46:59 > 0:47:01The earth which filled her mouth
0:47:01 > 0:47:03Is vanishing from her.
0:47:05 > 0:47:07Remember me.
0:47:08 > 0:47:10I have forgotten you.
0:47:13 > 0:47:19I am going into the darkness of the darkness for ever.
0:47:21 > 0:47:24I have forgotten that I was ever born.
0:47:28 > 0:47:30Now the town is dusk.
0:47:30 > 0:47:34Each cobble, donkey, goose and gooseberry street
0:47:34 > 0:47:35Is a thoroughfare of dusk
0:47:35 > 0:47:40And dusk and ceremonial dust
0:47:41 > 0:47:43And night's first darkening snow
0:47:43 > 0:47:45And the sleep of birds
0:47:45 > 0:47:50Drift under and through the live dusk of this place of love.
0:47:51 > 0:47:55Llareggub is the capital of dusk.
0:47:57 > 0:48:02Mrs Ogmore-Pritchard, at the first drop of the dusk-shower,
0:48:02 > 0:48:04seals all her Sea-View doors,
0:48:04 > 0:48:06draws the germ-free blinds,
0:48:06 > 0:48:11sits, erect as a dry dream on a high-backed hygienic chair
0:48:11 > 0:48:15and wills herself to cold, quick sleep.
0:48:15 > 0:48:18At once, at twice,
0:48:18 > 0:48:20Mr Ogmore and Mr Pritchard,
0:48:20 > 0:48:23who all dead day long have been
0:48:23 > 0:48:26gossiping like ghosts in the woodshed,
0:48:26 > 0:48:30planning the loveless destruction of their glass widow,
0:48:30 > 0:48:34reluctantly sigh and sidle into her clean house.
0:48:34 > 0:48:36You first, Mr Ogmore.
0:48:36 > 0:48:38After you, Mr Pritchard.
0:48:38 > 0:48:40No, no, Mr Ogmore. You widowed her first.
0:48:40 > 0:48:43And in through the keyhole
0:48:43 > 0:48:46with tears where their eyes once were,
0:48:46 > 0:48:47they ooze and grumble.
0:48:47 > 0:48:48Husbands...
0:48:48 > 0:48:50She says in her sleep.
0:48:50 > 0:48:53There is acid love in her voice
0:48:53 > 0:48:56for one of the two shambling phantoms.
0:48:56 > 0:48:59Mr Ogmore hopes that it is not for him.
0:48:59 > 0:49:01So does Mr Pritchard.
0:49:01 > 0:49:02I love you both.
0:49:02 > 0:49:04Oh, Mrs Ogmore.
0:49:04 > 0:49:08Oh, Mrs Pritchard.
0:49:08 > 0:49:10Soon it will be time to go to bed.
0:49:10 > 0:49:13Tell me your tasks in order.
0:49:14 > 0:49:19BOTH: We must take our pyjamas from the drawer marked "pyjamas".
0:49:21 > 0:49:23And then you must take them off.
0:49:25 > 0:49:29Down in the dusking town, Mae Rose-Cottage,
0:49:29 > 0:49:34still lying in clover, listens to the nanny goats chew,
0:49:34 > 0:49:38draws circles of lipstick round her nipples.
0:49:39 > 0:49:41I'm fast.
0:49:42 > 0:49:44I'm a bad lot.
0:49:44 > 0:49:48God will strike me dead.
0:49:48 > 0:49:50I'm 17.
0:49:50 > 0:49:52I'll go to hell...
0:49:52 > 0:49:54She tells the goats.
0:49:54 > 0:49:57You just wait.
0:49:57 > 0:50:01I'll sin till I blow up!
0:50:04 > 0:50:08She lies deep, waiting for the worst to happen,
0:50:08 > 0:50:10as the goats champ and sneer.
0:50:12 > 0:50:17Unmarried girls, alone in their privately bridal bedrooms,
0:50:17 > 0:50:21powder and curl for the Dance of the World.
0:50:21 > 0:50:25Mr Waldo, in his corner of the Sailor's Arms, sings...
0:50:25 > 0:50:27ACCORDION PLAYS
0:50:27 > 0:50:31# In Pembroke City when I was young
0:50:31 > 0:50:34# I lived by the Castle Keep
0:50:34 > 0:50:38# Sixpence a week was my wages
0:50:38 > 0:50:41# For working for the chimbley-sweep
0:50:41 > 0:50:45# Six cold pennies he gave me
0:50:45 > 0:50:48# Not a farthing more or less
0:50:48 > 0:50:52# And all the fare I could afford
0:50:52 > 0:50:57# Was parsnip gin and watercress
0:50:57 > 0:51:01# Sweep, sweep, chimbley sweep
0:51:01 > 0:51:05# I wept through Pembroke City
0:51:05 > 0:51:08# Poor and barefoot in the snow
0:51:08 > 0:51:12- ALL JOIN IN: - # Till a kind young woman took pity
0:51:12 > 0:51:17# Poor little chimbley sweep, she said
0:51:17 > 0:51:21# Black as the ace of spades
0:51:21 > 0:51:27# Oh, nobody's swept my chimbley
0:51:27 > 0:51:32# Since my husband went his ways
0:51:32 > 0:51:40# Come and sweep my chimbley, she sighed to me with a blush
0:51:40 > 0:51:44# Come and sweep my chimbley
0:51:44 > 0:51:49# Bring along your chimbley brush. #
0:51:49 > 0:51:52CHEERING AND LAUGHTER
0:51:52 > 0:51:54And at the doorway of Bethesda House,
0:51:54 > 0:51:59the Reverend Jenkins recites to Llaregyb Hill his sunset poem.
0:52:07 > 0:52:14# Every morning when I wake
0:52:14 > 0:52:22# Dear Lord, a little prayer I make
0:52:22 > 0:52:29# O please to keep Thy loving eye
0:52:29 > 0:52:36# On all poor creatures born to die
0:52:37 > 0:52:42# And every evening at sundown
0:52:42 > 0:52:49# I ask a blessing on the town
0:52:50 > 0:52:55# For whether we last the night or no
0:52:55 > 0:53:03# I'm sure is always touch and go
0:53:07 > 0:53:10# We are not wholly bad or good
0:53:10 > 0:53:15# Who live our lives under Milk Wood
0:53:15 > 0:53:21# And Thou, I know, wilt be the first
0:53:21 > 0:53:24# To see our best side
0:53:24 > 0:53:29# Not our worst
0:53:30 > 0:53:36# O let us see another day!
0:53:36 > 0:53:42# Bless us this night, I pray
0:53:42 > 0:53:48# And to the sun we all will bow
0:53:48 > 0:53:54# And say, goodbye
0:53:54 > 0:54:03# But just for now. #
0:54:09 > 0:54:12Blind Captain Cat climbs into his bunk.
0:54:12 > 0:54:15Like a cat, he sees in the dark.
0:54:16 > 0:54:20Through the voyages of his tears he sails to see the dead.
0:54:20 > 0:54:22Dancing Williams!
0:54:22 > 0:54:24Still dancing.
0:54:24 > 0:54:25Jonah Jarvis.
0:54:25 > 0:54:27Still.
0:54:27 > 0:54:32Rosie, with God. She has forgotten dying.
0:54:32 > 0:54:34The dead come out in their Sunday best.
0:54:38 > 0:54:40Listen to the night breaking.
0:54:41 > 0:54:44Mr Mog Edwards and Miss Myfanwy Price,
0:54:44 > 0:54:48happily apart from one another at the top and the sea-end of town,
0:54:48 > 0:54:51write their everynight letters of love and desire.
0:54:51 > 0:54:55In the warm White Book of Llareggub,
0:54:55 > 0:54:58you will find the little maps of the islands of their contentment.
0:54:58 > 0:55:02Oh, my Mog, I am yours for ever.
0:55:02 > 0:55:07And she looks around with pleasure at her own neat neverdull room
0:55:07 > 0:55:11which Mr Mog Edwards will never enter.
0:55:12 > 0:55:14Come to my arms, Myfanwy.
0:55:14 > 0:55:18And he hugs his lovely money to his own heart.
0:55:18 > 0:55:22And Mr Waldo, drunk in the dusky wood, hugs his lovely Polly Garter
0:55:22 > 0:55:26under the eyes and rattling tongues of the neighbours and the birds,
0:55:26 > 0:55:28and he does not care.
0:55:29 > 0:55:32He smacks his live red lips.
0:55:34 > 0:55:37But it is not his name that Polly Garter whispers as she lies
0:55:37 > 0:55:40- under the oak and loves him back. - # But I always think
0:55:40 > 0:55:43- # As we tumble into bed... # - Six feet deep,
0:55:43 > 0:55:47- that name sings in the cold earth. - # ..of little Willy Wee
0:55:47 > 0:55:53# Who is dead, dead, dead. #
0:56:04 > 0:56:06The thin night darkens.
0:56:08 > 0:56:12A breeze from the creased water sighs the streets close
0:56:12 > 0:56:14under Milk waking Wood.
0:56:16 > 0:56:18The Wood, whose every tree-foot's cloven
0:56:18 > 0:56:21in the black glad sight of the hunters of lovers,
0:56:21 > 0:56:25that is a God-built garden to Mary Ann Sailors,
0:56:25 > 0:56:28who knows there is a heaven on earth
0:56:28 > 0:56:32and the chosen people of his kind fire in Llareggub's land.
0:56:36 > 0:56:42That is the fairday farm hands' wantoning ignorant chapel of bridesbeds,
0:56:42 > 0:56:45and, to the Reverend Eli Jenkins,
0:56:45 > 0:56:49a greenleaved sermon on the innocence of men,
0:56:49 > 0:56:52the suddenly wind-shaken wood
0:56:52 > 0:56:58springs awake for the second dark time this one spring day.
0:56:58 > 0:57:07# Bless us this night, I pray
0:57:07 > 0:57:15# And to the sun we all will bow
0:57:17 > 0:57:22# And say goodbye
0:57:22 > 0:57:30# But just for now. #
0:57:32 > 0:57:33HE LAUGHS
0:57:33 > 0:57:35- Perfect.- Cut there.- We got it.
0:57:35 > 0:57:37Thank you very much.
0:57:38 > 0:57:40That was great!
0:57:42 > 0:57:43Spot on, man.
0:57:46 > 0:57:48- I feel so self-conscious! - SHE LAUGHS
0:57:51 > 0:57:53All right, can we go again?
0:57:54 > 0:57:58MUSIC: "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" performed by John Cale
0:57:58 > 0:58:02# Rage at the dying of the light
0:58:06 > 0:58:10# Rage at the dying of the light. #