Desperate Romantics s01e02 Episode Script
Episode 2
By discovering a most beautiful woman in a hat shop back room, I had ingratiated myself with the three most exciting artists in London, and joined their quest for credibility, success, and celebrity.
I'll see to it that your beauty is shared with the world.
You do realise it's your destiny to sit for me? She is the key that unlocks the treasure of my talent.
It's true, Gabriel.
This looks like the work of an artist.
Are you saying everything I did before was shit? Significantly, we had caught the attention of the pre-eminent art critic of the day, a man of taste, influence and authority, John Ruskin.
Just cover yourself up.
I need more.
No woman needs more.
I sense we are becoming rather dull.
I am, in fact, working on something brand new.
It's about a fallen woman.
There's possibly no greater subject than fallen women.
I want to save you.
You're a virgin, aren't you? I hardly think that's relevant.
Ah, Jesus Christ! You aren't comparing these men to Turner? I'm perfectly sincere.
I shall be writing a letter to The Times to that affect in the morning.
With this acknowledgement of their potential, there was nothing standing in the Brotherhood's way.
Nothing, except perhaps, rivalry, jealousy and self interest.
Here we go.
"They may, as they gain experience, lay in our England the foundation of a school of art nobler than the world has seen for 300 years.
" That's splendid.
Mr Ruskin has been as good as his word.
Well, this is far from good news.
"Millais has sunk into extravagance bordering on irreverence and is again followed by Mr Hunt "till nothing remains of perspective or truth.
" What about the Athenaeum? "Pure ugliness for its own sake.
" GABRIEL CHUCKLES I'm glad you find it amusing, Gabriel.
We have Ruskin! We have a letter from Ruskin.
That's not the same thing.
So now we move on with our mission.
Now we persuade Ruskin to buy our work.
That should be easy.
We'll all paint a masterpiece.
There's a turn up.
I was going to paint a masterpiece this week.
Ophelia Drowning.
I've already painted the riverbank and flowers, as you know.
Yes, I know.
Do you want me to tour the brothels to find a model for you? I have quite an eye, you know.
I shall need tin, of course, to cover my expenses.
No need, Gabriel.
I mean to hire Miss Siddal.
Sid? She's not available.
Who's Sid? Miss Siddal.
Just a little nickname I have for her.
You've got as far as nicknames.
But Miss Siddal is perfect.
And I can draw no other model.
Without Sid, I am nothing.
But Ruskin thinks Ophelia quite the thing! When did you talk to Ruskin about it? I bumped into him at the Academy.
Well, he bumped into me, actually.
Asked me what I was painting next and so forth.
Did he mention me at all? I enquire purely out of interest.
Of course.
Did my name come up, or? We have tickled the great trout Ruskin and now we must land him.
Well, I shall certainly be doing my bit to get him to buy.
And remember, Johnny, Ruskin must have no favourites.
But what if he prefers one of us to the others? Then that "favourite" tells Ruskin that he chooses to buy from all three of us or none of us at all.
That's the plan, all right? You won't ask Lizzie to sit for Ophelia, will you? It would be an important step for her.
Well, what about me? Sat at home with a blank canvas and a blank mind.
How do you mean? The difference between a good artist and a bad artist is Lizzie Siddal.
That's why I want to keep her.
So you need her because of your art? Of course.
Of course.
For a moment there, I thought it was because you were in love with her or something.
Fred! Of course I'm in love with her! 'A promise is a promise, but then one thought keeps prodding me.
' 'And it is this.
'What would Rossetti do if he found himself in my circumstances? 'What would Rossetti do?' I woke up in the night in a mug of sweat, Lizzie, on account of thinking about you in the bath.
I thought you would get cold.
Then I thought, candles.
That's the thing.
Candles.
Keep you warm as warm.
And be spared the fate of the real Ophelia.
Quite so.
And none of us would want that.
Especially not me.
Now remember that Hamlet has rejected her and she is taking her own life, Miss Siddal.
Fred, you might want to write this down.
Fred is our official diarist, Miss Siddal.
He records our every word for posterity.
Soif you could capture that in a look of sad resignation, then it would make my life so much easier.
Fred? If you wouldn't mind.
Sid, Sid, Sid.
The first time I laid eyes on Miss Siddal, I noticed that look she had.
That look of a lover driven mad by unrequited love.
Quite.
Are you quite dry, Miss Siddal? I think so.
I shall accompany you to your door, Lizzie.
No need for that, Fred.
I was passing anyway and can accompany Sid home.
Gabriel.
I had no idea you'd be calling.
I have business in the area.
What business? Fred, I've a cab waiting, so, you knowHow can you afford a cab? That's true.
Terrible cheek, I know, but Thank you.
Sid? Well, don't you want to see the painting? If it's good enough for Ruskin, I'm sure it's good enough for me.
I'm sorry I lied about the cab.
I thought the walk'd warm you up.
And you weren't really passing by either, were you? I was.
I was, really.
And there was me thinking you were insanely jealous because Millais was painting me.
The truth is, I'm jealous of any man who's looking at you when I could be looking at you.
Fred said I should do it because John Millais is about to become the most famous painter in Europe.
Well, I'm sure that Fred has your best interests at heart.
What are you implying? I'm afraid Fred has grown sweet on you, and he's made it his mission to keep us apart.
Why would he do that? Because he thinks that we may have more than a professional relationship.
Oh.
And he is right, is he not? Perhaps you make connections like this all the time but I Well, let's say I find it very hard to think of any other subject but you.
I think you're very pleasant company.
Well, I have been called worse, I suppose.
And a good painter.
Only you.
I am only good with you.
Now, the man will be sitting at the piano.
If you think I'm having anything to do with that dead bird, you've got another think coming.
The poor beast represents the fallen woman.
Fallen woman? Isn't this just like Rossetti's idea for the painting? I prefer the term "Inspired by" rather than "Copied".
Now, sit here.
You need to be facing out.
Oh, reverse farm-girl.
Why didn't you just say so? Oh, sun rises early today.
No, no.
You need to be sat on the edge of the seat.
Stand up.
Facing out.
Perhaps remembering a childhood home.
I'd rather not.
And, in that moment, you are breaking away from your gilded cage with a look of startled holyresolve.
A bit more holy resolve and a little less surprised by a broom handle.
Well, I'm more familiar with one than the other.
And the man sings on at the piano, ignorantly intensifying your repentant purpose.
And there shouldn't be a single object in the room that isn't either common or vulgar.
Even the fruit should be left to be preyed on by thievish birds.
Perhaps her repentant purpose can wait until tomorrow.
SNORING Lizzie, where've you been? You look exhausted.
It is exhausting posing as Ophelia.
Did you hear that, Alfred? A figure from Shakespeare! Was she of high birth? She drowned herself.
That's what passes for art these days, is it? What a life our little Lizzie has embarked upon.
HE SNORES Is it Fred or is it Millais? Is what Fred or Millais? The reason you can't sleep.
Both Fred and Millais are sweet boys.
But it isn't either of them.
So it's as I feared.
It is Rossetti.
You don't know the man.
I know that he's not to be trusted.
I knew that the moment I laid eyes on him, with his wild hair and strange clothes and that insistent stare.
You have just listed three of the reasons why I may just love him.
Love him? Love him?! You haven't told him you love him, have you? No.
I have been cool and distant.
Thank God.
Because as soon as a man like that hears the word love, he thinks he can behave as he likes.
And I have no say in the matter? Look at how Mr Hunt used you.
Gabriel is different.
I know.
It's his difference that worries me.
You promised me! You promised me you would dissuade her.
Did my feelings have no influence? Whatever do you mean? She only became valuable to you once I made it clear she was valuable to me.
You should be flattered! It means I trust your judgement better than my own.
So that's my role, is it? Food taster to the King? It takes more than a pair of pointy boots and your mother's scarf to make you a Pre-Raphaelite, you know.
Hello, Fred.
Hey, boy Johnny! How is Ophelia progressing? I think it may save my career.
Our career.
Yes, of course.
"Our" career.
Ruskin knows and is happy with your choice of Lizzie? Is he? For a model? My choice of Lizzie? Why wouldn't he be? Well, just that he took against Lizzie so badly in Hunt's painting.
Don't you recall? He said she was sluttish.
Surely that's just the way I painted her.
Yes.
Yes, you're right.
Be a terrible pity for us to lose Ruskin's patronage because you went against his wishes, though.
Erm I'll meet with you later, Gabriel.
I've just remembered an appointment.
Indeed.
I'm sure you have.
What are you doing? If he alerts Ruskin of his choice of model, then Ruskin might go off the whole idea of Ophelia.
I can't help it.
I don't want him using Lizzie.
Even though I know it's probably our only chance.
You speak as if Millais is the only one Ruskin is interested in.
Well, I can only paint Lizzie and she isn't available and you told me you had a complete dearth of ideas.
So Well, actually, that's changed since the last time we spoke.
Really? Mm.
What are you painting? Oh, nothing really.
Just something inspired by Annie.
Effie? Effie? Is this why you cannot bring yourself to face real flesh and blood? How dare you interfere with my work! She looks like a very happy wife! I am studying them to see if there is any artistic merit in them.
SHE LAUGHS John! John.
For a clever man, that is a very stupid excuse! They're part of Turner's estate.
I've been entrusted to catalogue them.
I discovered them after his death and, despite their technical brilliance, I am compelled to destroy them.
Why? Because it would damage Turner's reputation.
And a great man should not have his reputation shredded by tittle-tattle! SHE CHUCKLES And what do you prefer, John? The tittle or the tattle? Just give me the sketches and we'll talk no more about it.
No, I rather like them.
I think we should keep them for inspiration! Effie! Effie! Everything's fine, Mrs Bradshaw.
Please go back to bed.
Mrs Ruskin has become a little over agitated.
What shall we try first, John? This? Or this? Or this? Am I so very different from these women? This is your sickness talking.
My sickness? Well, I appear to share my sickness with Turner.
Turner was a genius! Turner was the truest painter Britain has ever produced! And I'm what? I'm what?! What am I? You tell me, because I feel like nothing at all.
Your best conduct would be encouraged by regular exercise and mental labour of a dull and exacting character.
Now, I have mentioned French, Italian and botany as subjects and I had hoped that you would endeavour to occupy your mind by giving a little time each day to these healthful and unexciting studies.
I'm very excited about the prospect of your Ophelia, John.
Thank you.
Mr.
Ruskin is seldom excited.
A painting that deals with one of the great themes.
There are practically no other themes I like to deal with, sir.
What greater subject than a woman trapped in a relationship with a man who promised love but only delivered rejection? Driven mad.
Driven mad.
Although I often wonder if Ophelia was already mad before Hamlet rejected her.
Because that can happen, can't it, dearest? A madness hidden from one lover to another and only revealed too late.
I think it is fair to say that her behaviour is more that of a creature driven into a corner by her master.
What do you think, Mr Millais? Me? Yes, Johnny, what is your opinion? I don't have much room in my head for thoughts, let alone opinions too.
Well, now, have you settled on a model? Well, that is what I wanted to see you about.
What about Effie here? I was thinking of Miss Lizzie Siddal, who Hunt used before me and of whom But I'm serious.
Effie here.
Do you not think she would look well in water, slowly drifting to her death? But modelling Your wife, sir, I mean Sir, it isn't a job for a respectable woman.
No.
You're right.
It isn't.
Would Miss Siddal meet with your approval? I've made some sketches.
I was wrong about Miss Siddal, John.
She's perfect.
I apologise for ever thinking her sluttish.
I'm a poor judge of women, Johnny.
You will have to forgive me.
Effie! Lizzie? Lizzie! Lizzie! Lizzie! Oh, my God, what have I done? What have I done.
Lizzie, wake up! Idiots! What were you thinking, you lunatics?! Keep breathing, Lizzie, my love.
I promise you, I value her life above my own.
I've found a cab.
He's waiting outside.
Go! Go! Get the door.
Get the door.
Quick, put her down there.
Mr Siddal! Mr Siddal! Our Lizzie's been overcome! You need to call a doctor, Mr Siddal.
She may have exposure or pneumonia or someExposure?! What have you been doing with her? She was posing as Ophelia, dying, in a river! At this time of year? If I could just explain Can you just send out for a doctor?! Charlotte, go and fetch Dr Etchells and tell him to come straight away! Don't either of you touch her! You've done enough damage already! Don't touch her! She's upstairs.
She's upstairs.
Hurry.
My daughter my beautiful Lizzie aristocratic by birth .
.
lying in open water in a second hand dress! It wasn't exactly open water.
Well, let's hope it's not "exactly" fatal pneumonia, then shall we? She will not die.
And you're a qualified medical man, Mr Rossetti? I won't allow her to die.
Oh, I see, you're God Almighty.
No need of a Doctor, dear, we have Jesus Christ himself standing in our parlour! Please, no blasphemy, Mr Siddal.
If I'm to understand the doctor, the chill may have a grip on her lungs.
And you know, our Lizzie has the constitution of a lady and is therefore without the means of fighting it.
No.
This can't be true.
Please, no.
I must see her.
I can't leave.
Not now! Get out, the pair of you! You've as good as killed my daughter! Out of my house and never come near again, else as God's my judge, I shall run you through with my own steel! You've killed her.
You and Johnny have killed her.
She is not dead, Gabriel.
If Johnny had kept his eye on the lamps.
It was a foolproof system.
Well, there's the flaw in your plan straightaway, Fred.
Because this man is the biggest fool in Christendom! Come, Gabriel, I'm sure it was an accident.
The tragedy is that Ruskin had finally recognised Lizzie for the stunner she is.
Under that cherubic face, you really are an ambitious little turdwipe, aren't you?! The tragedy is that she may die! She may die! My love.
My Sid! And my masterpiece? What of my masterpiece, should that be the case? You have everything! You are handsome, you have commissions coming out of your arse! You have everything.
I have nothing, except Lizzie's affection.
And you dare talk as though you're the injured party in this?! She is not dead.
Don't you see? Even if she survives, she is dead to us.
Do you really think her father will allow her to model for us again? Do you think it could be over for Johnny? Try and keep the smile out of your voice, Mad.
It ruins your show of fake concern.
Well, It's just that if we are going to be taken on by Ruskin, then it's up to you or me to impress him now.
I shan't ever paint again.
Not until I know she's alive.
You are very sweet on Miss Siddal, Fred? Am I right in that? Sweet doesn't do justice to how I feel.
If she is sweet, then, by my reckoning, she is the sugar plum of the universe.
Well, perhaps now would be a good time to visit her.
But her father warned us against visiting her on pain of death.
What greater demonstration of your feelings for Miss Siddal than for you to risk death to see her? And what greater romantic gesture could there be? That isn't an altogether foolish suggestion.
It isn't, is it? Andif you do gain access to Miss Siddal perhaps you could ask her when she might return to work, for Ophelia? 'At least Johnny acknowledged my feelings in all this.
'And besides, he was probably right.
'How could I have better demonstrated my feelings towards Miss Siddal? 'What greater romantic gesture could I make? 'I wasn't so much sneaking behind Rossetti's back, but rather, 'as he himself would put it, nobly assisting another brother in need.
' Mr Siddal.
I thought I would just enquire into Lizzie's health.
She's alive.
Oh, thank God.
When John was about to marry you, he confided in me that he felt as fearful as Sinbad the Sailor when his ship was drawing nearer to a loadstone mountain, Effie.
Do you follow? We were both nervous.
As any couple is "I hope she will not pull my bolts out, Mother" he said.
"Love does such a thing sometime.
" His bolts? His bolts.
Do I make myself clear? Not, not entirely.
You always knew my son to be a special kind of man.
Unique in many ways.
Does it strike you as odd that I'm having this conversation with you and not my husband? A marriage is not a negotiation between equals, Effie.
A good wife must sacrifice everything to duty.
She's alive? Oh, thank God! Why didn't you stay and beg to see her? Because I was bleeding profusely and it would have been the height of bad manners.
I hear that Mr Millais has taken to drowning his models now.
He'd be better off drowning the head of the Academy.
I blame the company he keeps.
Do you mean John Ruskin? No, of course not.
Well, I shall tell John tonight when I dine with him that you were disparaging him.
You dine with the Ruskins? I doubt that.
He likes to dine with all his proteges to check on our progress.
What? Haven't you heard? Ruskin is now our patron.
The Brotherhood are all commissioned by him.
I can assure you the Academy will take a very dim view of this.
That isn't true, Gabriel.
I know.
But it's worth it just to see the look on his face.
Here.
Best laudanum money can buy.
Should take the edge off the pain.
My physical pain, or my spiritual pain? Nose ache or heartache.
It's all the same to Sister Laudanum.
So will you try and see Lizzie? I think the best thing we can do for Lizzie right now is to leave her alone.
Gabriel! We're so glad you've come! We're all simply dying to see you.
You were? Our daughter's saviour! Well, I wouldn't go as far as that.
No false modesty, Gabriel.
I will not hear of it.
This is a little study of Lizzie I've been working on.
Oh, Mr.
Rossetti.
You've captured her completely.
Her upright posture.
Have you seen, Mr S? And her stern, intense frown.
Gabriel! It's a very brave man indeed who takes on Lizzie.
But then we know you are a very brave man indeed, don't we, Gabriel? I don't know about that.
I just did what any man would have done in the circumstances.
"Plunged into the icy waters, risking at the very least, a terrifying death.
" Who did you say wrote that report again? It doesn't say.
Were the waters very icy, Gabriel? I can say with great certainty that they were.
Indeed.
And whereabouts in the river was Lizzie lying exactly? The newspaper seems ever so vague.
"The waters of the angry Thames lapping around her.
" She was lying in the waters very close to Blackfriars, as I recall.
But you must remember that journalists do tend to embellish the truth.
No more questions, Charlotte.
Anyone can see that Gabriel isn't the kind of man who likes to dwell on his own heroism.
Thank you, Mrs Siddal.
I can see that Lizzie gets her perception as well as her beauty from you.
Mr Rossetti, you'll be making an old lady blush.
Careful.
I wouldn't want to incur the wrath of Mr Siddal.
I'm barely clinging on to my good looks as it is.
If I can have a word with you, Mr Rossetti.
Of course.
You're a very charming man.
Thank you, sir.
I don't trust charm in a man.
No, it speaks of weak character and restless genitals.
I can assure you, sir, that I have neither.
You think you've made good, do you? On what happened to Lizzie? I can only apologise with the most heartfelt An apology means nothing in this modern world unless it is backed by cash, Mr Rossetti.
Compensation? Well, it was neglect.
And Lizzie doesn't pose again unless we receive some recompense from the neglectees, ie Mr John Millais.
Anybody can see that Lizzie is a lady by birth.
That's not a body suited to punishment.
It's more decorative, like an expensive vase or bonnet.
Absolutely.
And if you damaged an expensive vase or bonnet, you'd expect to pay compensation, would you not? Well, when you explain it like that.
£30.
£30?!£30 or she never poses again, for anybody.
Her modelling career is over.
£50? £50?! I had to battle him down from a hundred guineas.
Thank you, Gabriel, for letting bygones be bygones and for going in to battle on my behalf.
Well, I know how much Ophelia means to the brotherhood.
I did it for all of us, Johnny, for all of us.
But £50! It's abundant tin, there's no doubting it.
Where am I going to find £50? I don't know.
What would Annie Miller do in the circumstances, I wonder? You're not suggesting I prostitute myself? She's not a prostitute! Unless you can think of another way of raising the money, you won't be seeing Ophelia.
Of course.
Of course.
Four gins, please.
Four gins.
Yes, sir.
Thank you, Fred.
For what? There's only one person who could have written that account.
I may have submitted a small piece to the Talk and Table column of the Illustrated London News.
You even had me rescuing her from the Thames.
I think you will find I wrote that she was lying in the icy waters of the Thames.
Which indeed she was, even if I omitted to mention that the said icy waters had been decanted into a bath.
But why would you do such a thing, knowing it would make ME look better in her father's eyes? I didn't think of that.
But I felt you deserved some praise because you did, after all, save Lizzie's life.
I suppose that's true.
I didn't know you could write that well.
Have you read none of my other work? I make it a point to never to read about myself, Fred.
I don't care what the world thinks of Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
Right, well, I see.
I feared it might be because I am not taken seriously by the Brotherhood.
No, no! You are the most vital Brother of all.
You are the Brother that stops the rest of us from tearing each other apart.
I, for one, would never take your love or loyalty for granted, Fred.
Here we are.
Four gins, sir.
Hey.
'Look at me, grateful for every scrap of attention I get from the man.
'A man who yet again gains the benefits of my own efforts to better myself.
'Not content with his own abundant good luck, he seems to have taken my share as well.
' I feel dashed ashamed to be asking, but I didn't know where else to turn.
John.
It's my pleasure to help you.
I don't know how I will ever get the money to repay you.
Once you have displayed Ophelia at the Academy show I am sure you'll find a buyer.
There is no guarantee it will be accepted.
I think you'll find that it will be.
£30 pounds, as promised.
I have to say, you've surprised me, Mr Rossetti.
I'm a man of my word, Mr Siddal.
And a man of honour too, as I hope one day you'll realise.
Well, I took your dirty and unsavoury appearance as a sign of Mediterranean moral weakness but I realise now it was merely a sign of your artistic temperament.
I knew that all along, Gabriel.
Here.
Ha-ha.
Thank you, sir.
Goodbye.
Thank you, Gabriel.
What for? For saving my life for saving my vocation as a model .
.
and for the poems, which I loved.
I only did what any man would do for a sweetheart.
We are sweethearts, are we not? Of course.
As long as you think such a title isn't too conventional and stifling.
No arrangement could be conventional and stifling as long as it had you and I at the centre.
Sweetheartslovers .
.
husband and wife.
Now, come.
You've made it very clear that you do not believe you will ever marry.
If ever a woman could change my mind, it is you, Lizzie Siddal! Lizzie! Lizzie! So he didn't actually propose marriage then? He never would.
That isn't the kind of man he is.
No.
I realise.
I'm very concerned about the kind of man he is.
His world is not the same as ours.
It would not be as simple or unimaginative as a proposal.
So you are secretly engaged.
So secretly engaged, in fact, that only one of you knows for sure that you are engaged! What if marriage wasn't yet possible but a young lady's feelings for a gentleman were greater than the prospect of any shame? I'd say the young lady was heading for potential disgrace.
If the young lady truly loves him then perhaps the potential disgrace would be a small price to pay.
You must not take that step! I know that you love him but that is not enough.
It's simply not enough! You don't understand their world! They don't live by the rules of society.
No man would if he thought he could get away with such a thing! Here .
.
take a guinea for yourself.
What did you do, kill someone? I need a model.
And I need one rather quickly in order to impress Mr Ruskin.
And you are absolutely my first choice.
I thought this was gonna be glamorous.
What are you doing here? Before you came into my life, it was set on a course so dull, so conventional, so unrewarding that it would have been better if I had not lived at all.
I'm sure that is not entirely true.
You've opened up a world for me.
A world of new and exciting possibilities.
Well, I'm glad of that.
I see it as my life's work to open up a world of exciting possibilities.
And you've helped me to realise that a life in which you deny your desires is no kind of life at all.
I'm not sure I know what you mean.
When I was ill I lay in my bed and I made myself a promise.
If I lived I would henceforth act on my desires.
There'll be no turning back.
Good.
Good.
You've pledged yourself to me.
We're as good as engaged.
How could there possibly be any shame in it? I want you to read this to me.
Now? Now.
Do you want me to stand on a chair and declaim or just something more informal? Just read it.
"You have been mine before.
" "How long ago I may not know.
" It's a little distracting to the poet, if you don't mind me saying so.
Just read it.
"But whenat the swallow's soar, "your neck turned so, "Some veil did fall.
"I knew it all of yore "Then now, perchance again! "O round mine eyes your tresses shake "Shall we not lie as we have lain "Thus, for love's sake And sleep and wake, "yet never break the chain.
" With the unveiling of Millais' Ophelia, the Brotherhood are on the verge of a new era.
You do realise that your life is going to change forever, don't you? It already has, my love.
It already has.
Miss Siddal? You nearly died modelling for this painting.
Was it a sacrifice worth making? My passion is art.
When the artist is as great as John Everett Millais, it doesn't become a model to interrupt.
Even when she is freezing to death? By the time I was freezing to death, I was too cold to talk anyway.
So what appears to be dedication may just have been biology.
No going back now.
What? What did you say? No going back now.
Millais has moved on, wouldn't you agree? Didn't I tell you, the first time I saw you in the hat shop? Didn't I tell you that you would be a famous model? You did.
And there will always be a place in my heart for you because of it.
Nothing is more important to me than your well-being.
Do you understand what I'm saying? Of course I do.
Miss Siddal, we hear you're sitting for a work by Mr Rossetti next.
Would you like to tell us about that? I'm sorry, but Miss Siddal will only be speaking to me this evening.
No other interviews, please.
What the hell is this? Awakening Conscience.
Surely I told you? You know you did not! This is my idea.
I told him that, and he said it's quite different.
I didn't know you had the monopoly on fallen women, Gabriel.
I told you of my intention to paint a fallen woman.
And you noted Ruskin's interest in it! This theme is my life.
I am living this! It must hurt that all your underhand efforts aren't going to pay off.
Why? Has Ruskin said something? Does he need to? Johnny will tell him our terms, won't he, that Ruskin will be all of our patrons or none of us at all? Congratulations, John.
You've changed everything with this painting.
You've enhanced the reputation of yourself and of the Brotherhood.
Thank you, sir.
What do you think, Mrs Ruskin? I think it captures a very real and familiar emotion.
Quite.
I think that anyone can be driven demented when their lover inexplicably turns against them.
Thankfully, in these times we all have more options than Ophelia.
What do you think of my wife, John? I .
.
don't know.
Do you think she would make a good model? Oh, I see! You are teasing me again.
Do you find her beautiful, John? There you go again! Tease, tease, tease.
Do you not take the suggestions of your patron seriously? My patron? If you wish it.
Of course I wish it! Of course I do! Who should he paint first, Gabriel? Myself or my wife here? I don't know, sir.
Johnny is, as ever, spoilt for choice.
Even if you feel a kind of gnawing pain at not standing side by side with them now, your time will come, Gabriel.
I know that, Mr Ruskin.
Is it true? It's true.
Well, did he tell him of our terms? Hand on heart, maniac, would you issue Ruskin with an ultimatum if he'd just become your patron? I suppose not.
That boy.
I'll wager his prick tastes of chocolate.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Now, The man is a fool and a pompous fool at that, but it is the woman who I would like you to concentrate on.
Now, she is a woman who is trapped.
Just as trapped as the poor injured bird at her feet.
She is a broken whore who has no other use than to be abused.
A discarded rag.
And in this moment, she's looking out to her past.
And she knows she can never regain that innocence.
But she only knows this on an instinctual level, clearly, because she has neither the intelligence, the education or the vocabulary to express such regret.
So there we have it.
A sad, helpless, humiliated victim.
Annie! Annie! I was describing the woman in the painting.
I wasn't describing you.
Why not? How is she different? Am I cleverer than her? Am I more of a whore or am I less of a whore? I was describing the relationship the woman has subjected herself to.
You were thinking your own filthy thoughts, then making sure the woman got her share by telling the world what a slut she was! I do feel ashamed about my using you! And that is why I want to help you.
I know what I am.
I don't need your help.
I want to buy you manners and education.
Why? Because you're ashamed of me? No.
Because whether we like it or not, such attainments will help you to thrive in polite society.
And if you want to continue modelling, you will need these skills if modelling isn't to lead you back to your old trade.
And why would you do that? Cos I care for you.
And I'm training you up so that we might one day step out together.
You mean that? Of course I mean it.
Nobody admires the noble poor more than me.
We'll see, Hunty.
You didn't mention us, did you? To Ruskin.
I tried.
I tried! But the words just wouldn't come out.
Relax, Johnny.
Had I been in your shoes, I would have done exactly the same.
Oh.
You have saved myeverything.
Without Lizzie there would have been no painting.
Well, that's true.
However can I repay you? Simple.
Whatever you need.
You've to promise me that you will never, ever, take Lizzie away from me again.
Welcome back into the fold, Johnny.
I'm not sure I see it like that.
The Academy will.
Myself and Mr Ruskin will make sure of that.
Mr Stone.
Mr Ruskin.
I am proud to be a member of the Brotherhood.
Without them, there would be no Ophelia.
Ophelia is just the beginning.
Myself and Mr Hunt and Mr Rossetti here are about to change the world.
Well, well.
The boy's balls have finally dropped, huh? Perhaps not, Gabriel, perhaps not.
'With great courage and considerable gusto, Millais has not only secured a patron for the Brotherhood, 'but a new model in Mrs Ruskin.
'Though struggling with his model and his principals, 'Hunt has found a small consolation in the trappings of notoriety.
'Whilst Rossetti seems to be ever closer to the woman I love.
' 'I have to know that Lizzie has given her heart to Gabriel.
'I have to be certain.
'Isn't it always better that a man knows the truth about the woman he loves?' 'I can tell you now 'it most avowedly is not.
' I can't help thinking I'm expected to do something other than painting to repay Ruskin's loyalty.
You don't think that John Ruskin is inviting you to seduce his wife? You are leaving me for a goat.
What's wrong with an English goat?! So your jealousy's of greater weight than your desire to paint a masterpiece? There's only one John Ruskin.
If you irritate Ruskin now, then our careers will sink along with yours.
Impotence is our only hope.
You do see he's being tricked, don't you?
I'll see to it that your beauty is shared with the world.
You do realise it's your destiny to sit for me? She is the key that unlocks the treasure of my talent.
It's true, Gabriel.
This looks like the work of an artist.
Are you saying everything I did before was shit? Significantly, we had caught the attention of the pre-eminent art critic of the day, a man of taste, influence and authority, John Ruskin.
Just cover yourself up.
I need more.
No woman needs more.
I sense we are becoming rather dull.
I am, in fact, working on something brand new.
It's about a fallen woman.
There's possibly no greater subject than fallen women.
I want to save you.
You're a virgin, aren't you? I hardly think that's relevant.
Ah, Jesus Christ! You aren't comparing these men to Turner? I'm perfectly sincere.
I shall be writing a letter to The Times to that affect in the morning.
With this acknowledgement of their potential, there was nothing standing in the Brotherhood's way.
Nothing, except perhaps, rivalry, jealousy and self interest.
Here we go.
"They may, as they gain experience, lay in our England the foundation of a school of art nobler than the world has seen for 300 years.
" That's splendid.
Mr Ruskin has been as good as his word.
Well, this is far from good news.
"Millais has sunk into extravagance bordering on irreverence and is again followed by Mr Hunt "till nothing remains of perspective or truth.
" What about the Athenaeum? "Pure ugliness for its own sake.
" GABRIEL CHUCKLES I'm glad you find it amusing, Gabriel.
We have Ruskin! We have a letter from Ruskin.
That's not the same thing.
So now we move on with our mission.
Now we persuade Ruskin to buy our work.
That should be easy.
We'll all paint a masterpiece.
There's a turn up.
I was going to paint a masterpiece this week.
Ophelia Drowning.
I've already painted the riverbank and flowers, as you know.
Yes, I know.
Do you want me to tour the brothels to find a model for you? I have quite an eye, you know.
I shall need tin, of course, to cover my expenses.
No need, Gabriel.
I mean to hire Miss Siddal.
Sid? She's not available.
Who's Sid? Miss Siddal.
Just a little nickname I have for her.
You've got as far as nicknames.
But Miss Siddal is perfect.
And I can draw no other model.
Without Sid, I am nothing.
But Ruskin thinks Ophelia quite the thing! When did you talk to Ruskin about it? I bumped into him at the Academy.
Well, he bumped into me, actually.
Asked me what I was painting next and so forth.
Did he mention me at all? I enquire purely out of interest.
Of course.
Did my name come up, or? We have tickled the great trout Ruskin and now we must land him.
Well, I shall certainly be doing my bit to get him to buy.
And remember, Johnny, Ruskin must have no favourites.
But what if he prefers one of us to the others? Then that "favourite" tells Ruskin that he chooses to buy from all three of us or none of us at all.
That's the plan, all right? You won't ask Lizzie to sit for Ophelia, will you? It would be an important step for her.
Well, what about me? Sat at home with a blank canvas and a blank mind.
How do you mean? The difference between a good artist and a bad artist is Lizzie Siddal.
That's why I want to keep her.
So you need her because of your art? Of course.
Of course.
For a moment there, I thought it was because you were in love with her or something.
Fred! Of course I'm in love with her! 'A promise is a promise, but then one thought keeps prodding me.
' 'And it is this.
'What would Rossetti do if he found himself in my circumstances? 'What would Rossetti do?' I woke up in the night in a mug of sweat, Lizzie, on account of thinking about you in the bath.
I thought you would get cold.
Then I thought, candles.
That's the thing.
Candles.
Keep you warm as warm.
And be spared the fate of the real Ophelia.
Quite so.
And none of us would want that.
Especially not me.
Now remember that Hamlet has rejected her and she is taking her own life, Miss Siddal.
Fred, you might want to write this down.
Fred is our official diarist, Miss Siddal.
He records our every word for posterity.
Soif you could capture that in a look of sad resignation, then it would make my life so much easier.
Fred? If you wouldn't mind.
Sid, Sid, Sid.
The first time I laid eyes on Miss Siddal, I noticed that look she had.
That look of a lover driven mad by unrequited love.
Quite.
Are you quite dry, Miss Siddal? I think so.
I shall accompany you to your door, Lizzie.
No need for that, Fred.
I was passing anyway and can accompany Sid home.
Gabriel.
I had no idea you'd be calling.
I have business in the area.
What business? Fred, I've a cab waiting, so, you knowHow can you afford a cab? That's true.
Terrible cheek, I know, but Thank you.
Sid? Well, don't you want to see the painting? If it's good enough for Ruskin, I'm sure it's good enough for me.
I'm sorry I lied about the cab.
I thought the walk'd warm you up.
And you weren't really passing by either, were you? I was.
I was, really.
And there was me thinking you were insanely jealous because Millais was painting me.
The truth is, I'm jealous of any man who's looking at you when I could be looking at you.
Fred said I should do it because John Millais is about to become the most famous painter in Europe.
Well, I'm sure that Fred has your best interests at heart.
What are you implying? I'm afraid Fred has grown sweet on you, and he's made it his mission to keep us apart.
Why would he do that? Because he thinks that we may have more than a professional relationship.
Oh.
And he is right, is he not? Perhaps you make connections like this all the time but I Well, let's say I find it very hard to think of any other subject but you.
I think you're very pleasant company.
Well, I have been called worse, I suppose.
And a good painter.
Only you.
I am only good with you.
Now, the man will be sitting at the piano.
If you think I'm having anything to do with that dead bird, you've got another think coming.
The poor beast represents the fallen woman.
Fallen woman? Isn't this just like Rossetti's idea for the painting? I prefer the term "Inspired by" rather than "Copied".
Now, sit here.
You need to be facing out.
Oh, reverse farm-girl.
Why didn't you just say so? Oh, sun rises early today.
No, no.
You need to be sat on the edge of the seat.
Stand up.
Facing out.
Perhaps remembering a childhood home.
I'd rather not.
And, in that moment, you are breaking away from your gilded cage with a look of startled holyresolve.
A bit more holy resolve and a little less surprised by a broom handle.
Well, I'm more familiar with one than the other.
And the man sings on at the piano, ignorantly intensifying your repentant purpose.
And there shouldn't be a single object in the room that isn't either common or vulgar.
Even the fruit should be left to be preyed on by thievish birds.
Perhaps her repentant purpose can wait until tomorrow.
SNORING Lizzie, where've you been? You look exhausted.
It is exhausting posing as Ophelia.
Did you hear that, Alfred? A figure from Shakespeare! Was she of high birth? She drowned herself.
That's what passes for art these days, is it? What a life our little Lizzie has embarked upon.
HE SNORES Is it Fred or is it Millais? Is what Fred or Millais? The reason you can't sleep.
Both Fred and Millais are sweet boys.
But it isn't either of them.
So it's as I feared.
It is Rossetti.
You don't know the man.
I know that he's not to be trusted.
I knew that the moment I laid eyes on him, with his wild hair and strange clothes and that insistent stare.
You have just listed three of the reasons why I may just love him.
Love him? Love him?! You haven't told him you love him, have you? No.
I have been cool and distant.
Thank God.
Because as soon as a man like that hears the word love, he thinks he can behave as he likes.
And I have no say in the matter? Look at how Mr Hunt used you.
Gabriel is different.
I know.
It's his difference that worries me.
You promised me! You promised me you would dissuade her.
Did my feelings have no influence? Whatever do you mean? She only became valuable to you once I made it clear she was valuable to me.
You should be flattered! It means I trust your judgement better than my own.
So that's my role, is it? Food taster to the King? It takes more than a pair of pointy boots and your mother's scarf to make you a Pre-Raphaelite, you know.
Hello, Fred.
Hey, boy Johnny! How is Ophelia progressing? I think it may save my career.
Our career.
Yes, of course.
"Our" career.
Ruskin knows and is happy with your choice of Lizzie? Is he? For a model? My choice of Lizzie? Why wouldn't he be? Well, just that he took against Lizzie so badly in Hunt's painting.
Don't you recall? He said she was sluttish.
Surely that's just the way I painted her.
Yes.
Yes, you're right.
Be a terrible pity for us to lose Ruskin's patronage because you went against his wishes, though.
Erm I'll meet with you later, Gabriel.
I've just remembered an appointment.
Indeed.
I'm sure you have.
What are you doing? If he alerts Ruskin of his choice of model, then Ruskin might go off the whole idea of Ophelia.
I can't help it.
I don't want him using Lizzie.
Even though I know it's probably our only chance.
You speak as if Millais is the only one Ruskin is interested in.
Well, I can only paint Lizzie and she isn't available and you told me you had a complete dearth of ideas.
So Well, actually, that's changed since the last time we spoke.
Really? Mm.
What are you painting? Oh, nothing really.
Just something inspired by Annie.
Effie? Effie? Is this why you cannot bring yourself to face real flesh and blood? How dare you interfere with my work! She looks like a very happy wife! I am studying them to see if there is any artistic merit in them.
SHE LAUGHS John! John.
For a clever man, that is a very stupid excuse! They're part of Turner's estate.
I've been entrusted to catalogue them.
I discovered them after his death and, despite their technical brilliance, I am compelled to destroy them.
Why? Because it would damage Turner's reputation.
And a great man should not have his reputation shredded by tittle-tattle! SHE CHUCKLES And what do you prefer, John? The tittle or the tattle? Just give me the sketches and we'll talk no more about it.
No, I rather like them.
I think we should keep them for inspiration! Effie! Effie! Everything's fine, Mrs Bradshaw.
Please go back to bed.
Mrs Ruskin has become a little over agitated.
What shall we try first, John? This? Or this? Or this? Am I so very different from these women? This is your sickness talking.
My sickness? Well, I appear to share my sickness with Turner.
Turner was a genius! Turner was the truest painter Britain has ever produced! And I'm what? I'm what?! What am I? You tell me, because I feel like nothing at all.
Your best conduct would be encouraged by regular exercise and mental labour of a dull and exacting character.
Now, I have mentioned French, Italian and botany as subjects and I had hoped that you would endeavour to occupy your mind by giving a little time each day to these healthful and unexciting studies.
I'm very excited about the prospect of your Ophelia, John.
Thank you.
Mr.
Ruskin is seldom excited.
A painting that deals with one of the great themes.
There are practically no other themes I like to deal with, sir.
What greater subject than a woman trapped in a relationship with a man who promised love but only delivered rejection? Driven mad.
Driven mad.
Although I often wonder if Ophelia was already mad before Hamlet rejected her.
Because that can happen, can't it, dearest? A madness hidden from one lover to another and only revealed too late.
I think it is fair to say that her behaviour is more that of a creature driven into a corner by her master.
What do you think, Mr Millais? Me? Yes, Johnny, what is your opinion? I don't have much room in my head for thoughts, let alone opinions too.
Well, now, have you settled on a model? Well, that is what I wanted to see you about.
What about Effie here? I was thinking of Miss Lizzie Siddal, who Hunt used before me and of whom But I'm serious.
Effie here.
Do you not think she would look well in water, slowly drifting to her death? But modelling Your wife, sir, I mean Sir, it isn't a job for a respectable woman.
No.
You're right.
It isn't.
Would Miss Siddal meet with your approval? I've made some sketches.
I was wrong about Miss Siddal, John.
She's perfect.
I apologise for ever thinking her sluttish.
I'm a poor judge of women, Johnny.
You will have to forgive me.
Effie! Lizzie? Lizzie! Lizzie! Lizzie! Oh, my God, what have I done? What have I done.
Lizzie, wake up! Idiots! What were you thinking, you lunatics?! Keep breathing, Lizzie, my love.
I promise you, I value her life above my own.
I've found a cab.
He's waiting outside.
Go! Go! Get the door.
Get the door.
Quick, put her down there.
Mr Siddal! Mr Siddal! Our Lizzie's been overcome! You need to call a doctor, Mr Siddal.
She may have exposure or pneumonia or someExposure?! What have you been doing with her? She was posing as Ophelia, dying, in a river! At this time of year? If I could just explain Can you just send out for a doctor?! Charlotte, go and fetch Dr Etchells and tell him to come straight away! Don't either of you touch her! You've done enough damage already! Don't touch her! She's upstairs.
She's upstairs.
Hurry.
My daughter my beautiful Lizzie aristocratic by birth .
.
lying in open water in a second hand dress! It wasn't exactly open water.
Well, let's hope it's not "exactly" fatal pneumonia, then shall we? She will not die.
And you're a qualified medical man, Mr Rossetti? I won't allow her to die.
Oh, I see, you're God Almighty.
No need of a Doctor, dear, we have Jesus Christ himself standing in our parlour! Please, no blasphemy, Mr Siddal.
If I'm to understand the doctor, the chill may have a grip on her lungs.
And you know, our Lizzie has the constitution of a lady and is therefore without the means of fighting it.
No.
This can't be true.
Please, no.
I must see her.
I can't leave.
Not now! Get out, the pair of you! You've as good as killed my daughter! Out of my house and never come near again, else as God's my judge, I shall run you through with my own steel! You've killed her.
You and Johnny have killed her.
She is not dead, Gabriel.
If Johnny had kept his eye on the lamps.
It was a foolproof system.
Well, there's the flaw in your plan straightaway, Fred.
Because this man is the biggest fool in Christendom! Come, Gabriel, I'm sure it was an accident.
The tragedy is that Ruskin had finally recognised Lizzie for the stunner she is.
Under that cherubic face, you really are an ambitious little turdwipe, aren't you?! The tragedy is that she may die! She may die! My love.
My Sid! And my masterpiece? What of my masterpiece, should that be the case? You have everything! You are handsome, you have commissions coming out of your arse! You have everything.
I have nothing, except Lizzie's affection.
And you dare talk as though you're the injured party in this?! She is not dead.
Don't you see? Even if she survives, she is dead to us.
Do you really think her father will allow her to model for us again? Do you think it could be over for Johnny? Try and keep the smile out of your voice, Mad.
It ruins your show of fake concern.
Well, It's just that if we are going to be taken on by Ruskin, then it's up to you or me to impress him now.
I shan't ever paint again.
Not until I know she's alive.
You are very sweet on Miss Siddal, Fred? Am I right in that? Sweet doesn't do justice to how I feel.
If she is sweet, then, by my reckoning, she is the sugar plum of the universe.
Well, perhaps now would be a good time to visit her.
But her father warned us against visiting her on pain of death.
What greater demonstration of your feelings for Miss Siddal than for you to risk death to see her? And what greater romantic gesture could there be? That isn't an altogether foolish suggestion.
It isn't, is it? Andif you do gain access to Miss Siddal perhaps you could ask her when she might return to work, for Ophelia? 'At least Johnny acknowledged my feelings in all this.
'And besides, he was probably right.
'How could I have better demonstrated my feelings towards Miss Siddal? 'What greater romantic gesture could I make? 'I wasn't so much sneaking behind Rossetti's back, but rather, 'as he himself would put it, nobly assisting another brother in need.
' Mr Siddal.
I thought I would just enquire into Lizzie's health.
She's alive.
Oh, thank God.
When John was about to marry you, he confided in me that he felt as fearful as Sinbad the Sailor when his ship was drawing nearer to a loadstone mountain, Effie.
Do you follow? We were both nervous.
As any couple is "I hope she will not pull my bolts out, Mother" he said.
"Love does such a thing sometime.
" His bolts? His bolts.
Do I make myself clear? Not, not entirely.
You always knew my son to be a special kind of man.
Unique in many ways.
Does it strike you as odd that I'm having this conversation with you and not my husband? A marriage is not a negotiation between equals, Effie.
A good wife must sacrifice everything to duty.
She's alive? Oh, thank God! Why didn't you stay and beg to see her? Because I was bleeding profusely and it would have been the height of bad manners.
I hear that Mr Millais has taken to drowning his models now.
He'd be better off drowning the head of the Academy.
I blame the company he keeps.
Do you mean John Ruskin? No, of course not.
Well, I shall tell John tonight when I dine with him that you were disparaging him.
You dine with the Ruskins? I doubt that.
He likes to dine with all his proteges to check on our progress.
What? Haven't you heard? Ruskin is now our patron.
The Brotherhood are all commissioned by him.
I can assure you the Academy will take a very dim view of this.
That isn't true, Gabriel.
I know.
But it's worth it just to see the look on his face.
Here.
Best laudanum money can buy.
Should take the edge off the pain.
My physical pain, or my spiritual pain? Nose ache or heartache.
It's all the same to Sister Laudanum.
So will you try and see Lizzie? I think the best thing we can do for Lizzie right now is to leave her alone.
Gabriel! We're so glad you've come! We're all simply dying to see you.
You were? Our daughter's saviour! Well, I wouldn't go as far as that.
No false modesty, Gabriel.
I will not hear of it.
This is a little study of Lizzie I've been working on.
Oh, Mr.
Rossetti.
You've captured her completely.
Her upright posture.
Have you seen, Mr S? And her stern, intense frown.
Gabriel! It's a very brave man indeed who takes on Lizzie.
But then we know you are a very brave man indeed, don't we, Gabriel? I don't know about that.
I just did what any man would have done in the circumstances.
"Plunged into the icy waters, risking at the very least, a terrifying death.
" Who did you say wrote that report again? It doesn't say.
Were the waters very icy, Gabriel? I can say with great certainty that they were.
Indeed.
And whereabouts in the river was Lizzie lying exactly? The newspaper seems ever so vague.
"The waters of the angry Thames lapping around her.
" She was lying in the waters very close to Blackfriars, as I recall.
But you must remember that journalists do tend to embellish the truth.
No more questions, Charlotte.
Anyone can see that Gabriel isn't the kind of man who likes to dwell on his own heroism.
Thank you, Mrs Siddal.
I can see that Lizzie gets her perception as well as her beauty from you.
Mr Rossetti, you'll be making an old lady blush.
Careful.
I wouldn't want to incur the wrath of Mr Siddal.
I'm barely clinging on to my good looks as it is.
If I can have a word with you, Mr Rossetti.
Of course.
You're a very charming man.
Thank you, sir.
I don't trust charm in a man.
No, it speaks of weak character and restless genitals.
I can assure you, sir, that I have neither.
You think you've made good, do you? On what happened to Lizzie? I can only apologise with the most heartfelt An apology means nothing in this modern world unless it is backed by cash, Mr Rossetti.
Compensation? Well, it was neglect.
And Lizzie doesn't pose again unless we receive some recompense from the neglectees, ie Mr John Millais.
Anybody can see that Lizzie is a lady by birth.
That's not a body suited to punishment.
It's more decorative, like an expensive vase or bonnet.
Absolutely.
And if you damaged an expensive vase or bonnet, you'd expect to pay compensation, would you not? Well, when you explain it like that.
£30.
£30?!£30 or she never poses again, for anybody.
Her modelling career is over.
£50? £50?! I had to battle him down from a hundred guineas.
Thank you, Gabriel, for letting bygones be bygones and for going in to battle on my behalf.
Well, I know how much Ophelia means to the brotherhood.
I did it for all of us, Johnny, for all of us.
But £50! It's abundant tin, there's no doubting it.
Where am I going to find £50? I don't know.
What would Annie Miller do in the circumstances, I wonder? You're not suggesting I prostitute myself? She's not a prostitute! Unless you can think of another way of raising the money, you won't be seeing Ophelia.
Of course.
Of course.
Four gins, please.
Four gins.
Yes, sir.
Thank you, Fred.
For what? There's only one person who could have written that account.
I may have submitted a small piece to the Talk and Table column of the Illustrated London News.
You even had me rescuing her from the Thames.
I think you will find I wrote that she was lying in the icy waters of the Thames.
Which indeed she was, even if I omitted to mention that the said icy waters had been decanted into a bath.
But why would you do such a thing, knowing it would make ME look better in her father's eyes? I didn't think of that.
But I felt you deserved some praise because you did, after all, save Lizzie's life.
I suppose that's true.
I didn't know you could write that well.
Have you read none of my other work? I make it a point to never to read about myself, Fred.
I don't care what the world thinks of Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
Right, well, I see.
I feared it might be because I am not taken seriously by the Brotherhood.
No, no! You are the most vital Brother of all.
You are the Brother that stops the rest of us from tearing each other apart.
I, for one, would never take your love or loyalty for granted, Fred.
Here we are.
Four gins, sir.
Hey.
'Look at me, grateful for every scrap of attention I get from the man.
'A man who yet again gains the benefits of my own efforts to better myself.
'Not content with his own abundant good luck, he seems to have taken my share as well.
' I feel dashed ashamed to be asking, but I didn't know where else to turn.
John.
It's my pleasure to help you.
I don't know how I will ever get the money to repay you.
Once you have displayed Ophelia at the Academy show I am sure you'll find a buyer.
There is no guarantee it will be accepted.
I think you'll find that it will be.
£30 pounds, as promised.
I have to say, you've surprised me, Mr Rossetti.
I'm a man of my word, Mr Siddal.
And a man of honour too, as I hope one day you'll realise.
Well, I took your dirty and unsavoury appearance as a sign of Mediterranean moral weakness but I realise now it was merely a sign of your artistic temperament.
I knew that all along, Gabriel.
Here.
Ha-ha.
Thank you, sir.
Goodbye.
Thank you, Gabriel.
What for? For saving my life for saving my vocation as a model .
.
and for the poems, which I loved.
I only did what any man would do for a sweetheart.
We are sweethearts, are we not? Of course.
As long as you think such a title isn't too conventional and stifling.
No arrangement could be conventional and stifling as long as it had you and I at the centre.
Sweetheartslovers .
.
husband and wife.
Now, come.
You've made it very clear that you do not believe you will ever marry.
If ever a woman could change my mind, it is you, Lizzie Siddal! Lizzie! Lizzie! So he didn't actually propose marriage then? He never would.
That isn't the kind of man he is.
No.
I realise.
I'm very concerned about the kind of man he is.
His world is not the same as ours.
It would not be as simple or unimaginative as a proposal.
So you are secretly engaged.
So secretly engaged, in fact, that only one of you knows for sure that you are engaged! What if marriage wasn't yet possible but a young lady's feelings for a gentleman were greater than the prospect of any shame? I'd say the young lady was heading for potential disgrace.
If the young lady truly loves him then perhaps the potential disgrace would be a small price to pay.
You must not take that step! I know that you love him but that is not enough.
It's simply not enough! You don't understand their world! They don't live by the rules of society.
No man would if he thought he could get away with such a thing! Here .
.
take a guinea for yourself.
What did you do, kill someone? I need a model.
And I need one rather quickly in order to impress Mr Ruskin.
And you are absolutely my first choice.
I thought this was gonna be glamorous.
What are you doing here? Before you came into my life, it was set on a course so dull, so conventional, so unrewarding that it would have been better if I had not lived at all.
I'm sure that is not entirely true.
You've opened up a world for me.
A world of new and exciting possibilities.
Well, I'm glad of that.
I see it as my life's work to open up a world of exciting possibilities.
And you've helped me to realise that a life in which you deny your desires is no kind of life at all.
I'm not sure I know what you mean.
When I was ill I lay in my bed and I made myself a promise.
If I lived I would henceforth act on my desires.
There'll be no turning back.
Good.
Good.
You've pledged yourself to me.
We're as good as engaged.
How could there possibly be any shame in it? I want you to read this to me.
Now? Now.
Do you want me to stand on a chair and declaim or just something more informal? Just read it.
"You have been mine before.
" "How long ago I may not know.
" It's a little distracting to the poet, if you don't mind me saying so.
Just read it.
"But whenat the swallow's soar, "your neck turned so, "Some veil did fall.
"I knew it all of yore "Then now, perchance again! "O round mine eyes your tresses shake "Shall we not lie as we have lain "Thus, for love's sake And sleep and wake, "yet never break the chain.
" With the unveiling of Millais' Ophelia, the Brotherhood are on the verge of a new era.
You do realise that your life is going to change forever, don't you? It already has, my love.
It already has.
Miss Siddal? You nearly died modelling for this painting.
Was it a sacrifice worth making? My passion is art.
When the artist is as great as John Everett Millais, it doesn't become a model to interrupt.
Even when she is freezing to death? By the time I was freezing to death, I was too cold to talk anyway.
So what appears to be dedication may just have been biology.
No going back now.
What? What did you say? No going back now.
Millais has moved on, wouldn't you agree? Didn't I tell you, the first time I saw you in the hat shop? Didn't I tell you that you would be a famous model? You did.
And there will always be a place in my heart for you because of it.
Nothing is more important to me than your well-being.
Do you understand what I'm saying? Of course I do.
Miss Siddal, we hear you're sitting for a work by Mr Rossetti next.
Would you like to tell us about that? I'm sorry, but Miss Siddal will only be speaking to me this evening.
No other interviews, please.
What the hell is this? Awakening Conscience.
Surely I told you? You know you did not! This is my idea.
I told him that, and he said it's quite different.
I didn't know you had the monopoly on fallen women, Gabriel.
I told you of my intention to paint a fallen woman.
And you noted Ruskin's interest in it! This theme is my life.
I am living this! It must hurt that all your underhand efforts aren't going to pay off.
Why? Has Ruskin said something? Does he need to? Johnny will tell him our terms, won't he, that Ruskin will be all of our patrons or none of us at all? Congratulations, John.
You've changed everything with this painting.
You've enhanced the reputation of yourself and of the Brotherhood.
Thank you, sir.
What do you think, Mrs Ruskin? I think it captures a very real and familiar emotion.
Quite.
I think that anyone can be driven demented when their lover inexplicably turns against them.
Thankfully, in these times we all have more options than Ophelia.
What do you think of my wife, John? I .
.
don't know.
Do you think she would make a good model? Oh, I see! You are teasing me again.
Do you find her beautiful, John? There you go again! Tease, tease, tease.
Do you not take the suggestions of your patron seriously? My patron? If you wish it.
Of course I wish it! Of course I do! Who should he paint first, Gabriel? Myself or my wife here? I don't know, sir.
Johnny is, as ever, spoilt for choice.
Even if you feel a kind of gnawing pain at not standing side by side with them now, your time will come, Gabriel.
I know that, Mr Ruskin.
Is it true? It's true.
Well, did he tell him of our terms? Hand on heart, maniac, would you issue Ruskin with an ultimatum if he'd just become your patron? I suppose not.
That boy.
I'll wager his prick tastes of chocolate.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Now, The man is a fool and a pompous fool at that, but it is the woman who I would like you to concentrate on.
Now, she is a woman who is trapped.
Just as trapped as the poor injured bird at her feet.
She is a broken whore who has no other use than to be abused.
A discarded rag.
And in this moment, she's looking out to her past.
And she knows she can never regain that innocence.
But she only knows this on an instinctual level, clearly, because she has neither the intelligence, the education or the vocabulary to express such regret.
So there we have it.
A sad, helpless, humiliated victim.
Annie! Annie! I was describing the woman in the painting.
I wasn't describing you.
Why not? How is she different? Am I cleverer than her? Am I more of a whore or am I less of a whore? I was describing the relationship the woman has subjected herself to.
You were thinking your own filthy thoughts, then making sure the woman got her share by telling the world what a slut she was! I do feel ashamed about my using you! And that is why I want to help you.
I know what I am.
I don't need your help.
I want to buy you manners and education.
Why? Because you're ashamed of me? No.
Because whether we like it or not, such attainments will help you to thrive in polite society.
And if you want to continue modelling, you will need these skills if modelling isn't to lead you back to your old trade.
And why would you do that? Cos I care for you.
And I'm training you up so that we might one day step out together.
You mean that? Of course I mean it.
Nobody admires the noble poor more than me.
We'll see, Hunty.
You didn't mention us, did you? To Ruskin.
I tried.
I tried! But the words just wouldn't come out.
Relax, Johnny.
Had I been in your shoes, I would have done exactly the same.
Oh.
You have saved myeverything.
Without Lizzie there would have been no painting.
Well, that's true.
However can I repay you? Simple.
Whatever you need.
You've to promise me that you will never, ever, take Lizzie away from me again.
Welcome back into the fold, Johnny.
I'm not sure I see it like that.
The Academy will.
Myself and Mr Ruskin will make sure of that.
Mr Stone.
Mr Ruskin.
I am proud to be a member of the Brotherhood.
Without them, there would be no Ophelia.
Ophelia is just the beginning.
Myself and Mr Hunt and Mr Rossetti here are about to change the world.
Well, well.
The boy's balls have finally dropped, huh? Perhaps not, Gabriel, perhaps not.
'With great courage and considerable gusto, Millais has not only secured a patron for the Brotherhood, 'but a new model in Mrs Ruskin.
'Though struggling with his model and his principals, 'Hunt has found a small consolation in the trappings of notoriety.
'Whilst Rossetti seems to be ever closer to the woman I love.
' 'I have to know that Lizzie has given her heart to Gabriel.
'I have to be certain.
'Isn't it always better that a man knows the truth about the woman he loves?' 'I can tell you now 'it most avowedly is not.
' I can't help thinking I'm expected to do something other than painting to repay Ruskin's loyalty.
You don't think that John Ruskin is inviting you to seduce his wife? You are leaving me for a goat.
What's wrong with an English goat?! So your jealousy's of greater weight than your desire to paint a masterpiece? There's only one John Ruskin.
If you irritate Ruskin now, then our careers will sink along with yours.
Impotence is our only hope.
You do see he's being tricked, don't you?