Jane Marryot: There should never be any good reason for neglecting someone that you love.

opening title card: This is the story of a home and a family... history seen through the eyes of a wife and mother whose love tempers both fortune and disaster... As 1899 ends, England is at war with the Boers in South Africa, but the tide of battle is against her... It is a national emergency... New Year's Eve... our London family, sheltered through two generations of Victorian prosperity, awaits the headlong cavalcade of the Twentieth Century...

[first lines]

Jane Marryot: [as the Marryots return home from an outing] Thank you Bridges.

Robert Marryot: Everything ready Bridges?

Alfred Bridges: Yes sir.

Jane Marryot: Thought we should never get here in time. I'm sure that cabby was tipsy Robert.

Robert Marryot: So am I; he called me his old coccolare.

Jane Marryot: Oh, what did you say?

Robert Marryot: Gave him another shilling.

[they laugh lightheartedly]

Master Joey: [from upstairs] Mum! Mum!

Jane Marryot: Oh, the children.

Ellen Bridges: There, it's Master Joey.

Robert Marryot: How very impolite of the twentieth century to wake up the children.

Robert Marryot: Nineteen Hundred! Happy new century.

Jane MarryotEllen BridgesAlfred BridgesMaster Edward: Nineteen Hundred.

Master Joey: Nineteen Hundred!

Jane Marryot: [from the upstairs window in reference to a potential war update in the newspaper] What is it Ellen, what is it?

Ellen Bridges: Nothing ma'am.

Jane Marryot: [somberly but self-assuredly repeating what Ellen just said a moment before] No news is good news; what must be, must be.

Annie: [as Alfred, Ellen, Mrs. Snapper, Cook, and Annie all sit around the kitchen table] Eh, where is Africa Mr. Bridges?

Alfred Bridges: Well I don't rightly know where it is but, it's bloody hot when ya get there.

[they all laugh heartily]

Jane Marryot: [while watching Queen Victoria's funeral procession from their upstairs balcony] Five kings riding behind her.

Master Joey: Mum, she must have been a very little lady.

sign above bar: Alfred Bridges / licensed to sell wines, spirits, beer, tobacco / to be consumed on or off the premises / Public Bar

sand art writing: Famous people 1909 / Edward VII / Roosevelt / Pankhurst / Lauder

Edith Harris: [as they sit together gazing out at sea] Look, big steamer!

Edward Marryot: Bearing her precious human freight to the farthest flung outposts of the empire.

Edward Marryot: [talking about love and relationships while aboard ship] How long do you give us?

Edith Harris: I don't know... oh and Edward, I don't care. This is our moment: complete and heavenly. I'm not afraid of anything. This is our own, forever.

[they kiss, walk away from the railing, and the life preserver ring reads 'Titanic Southampton']

Joe Marryot: If there is a war, how long do you think it'll last?

Robert Marryot: Oh, three months at the outside.

Joe Marryot: We shall win.

Robert Marryot: We shall win.

[uncorks a bottle of wine]

Joe Marryot: [eagerly] Perhaps it'll last six months.

Robert Marryot: Economically impossible. Have you any idea what a war costs?

Joe Marryot: Hell of a lot I suppose.

Robert Marryot: A Hell of a lot. The Germans can afford it even less than we can. Then there's Russia...

Joe Marryot: Good old Russia!

Robert Marryot: ...France, Italy, and America...

Joe Marryot: ...Japan, China, Nicaragua, Guatemala; huh, why, we got 'em licked before we start.

Robert Marryot: Don't be silly Joey.

Joe Marryot: [lightly laughs] Sorry.

Jane Marryot: [upset at the sound of the cheering crowd outside and the prospect of newly declared war with Germany] Drink to the war then. I'm not going to, I can't. Rule Britannia; send us victorious, happy, and glorious. Drink Joey, you're only a baby still but you're old enough for war. Drink as the Germans are doing tonight: to victory and defeat and stupid tragic sorrow but, don't ask me to do it please!

Joe Marryot: Ah. Oh, it's a bit of luck the war coming when it did - I was properly fed up with Oxford.

Soldier Friend of Joe: Oxford? I was just starting at an accountant's office.

Jane Marryot: [on New Year's day of 1933] Well Robert, here we go again.

Robert Marryot: One more year behind us.

Jane Marryot: One more year before us.

Robert Marryot: Mm, do you mind?

Jane Marryot: No.

[they sit down on the sofa together]

Jane Marryot: Everything passes, even time.

Robert Marryot: That means you too.

Jane Marryot: And you don't?

Robert Marryot: I still believe in the future.

Jane Marryot: Ah, that's your strength my dear. I believe in the future too but, not quite in the same way.

[last lines]

Robert Marryot: [upon the dawn of the new year] In one minute it will be 1933.

Jane Marryot: Well Robert, what toast have you in mind for tonight? Something gay and original I hope.

Robert Marryot: No, just the future - our old friend the future: the future of England. But first of all my dear, I drink to you.

Jane Marryot: And I drink to you Robert, loyal and loving always.

[they drink a toast of champagne]

Jane Marryot: Now, let's couple the future of England with the past of England: the glories, the victories, and triumphs that are over, and sorrows that are over too. Let us drink to our sons, who made part of the pattern, and to our hearts that died with them. Let us drink to the spirit of gallantry and courage that made a strange heaven out of unbelievable Hell. And let us drink to the hope that one day this country of ours - which we love so much - will find dignity, and greatness, and peace again.

[a whirlwind montage of 'new-age' social norms and trends flashes before them]

Robert Marryot: Dignity, greatness, and peace.

[they drink another toast of champagne and go out on the balcony to witness the crowd outside ringing in the New Year with Auld Lang Syne]

Ellen Bridges: [somewhat shocked as her husband unfortunately drunkenly enters the house, interrupting the end of a visit from Jane and Edward Marryot which he was deliberately sent out to avoid] Alfred.

Alfred Bridges: Oh, so this is why you wanted ta get me outta the way, eh?

Mrs. Snapper: Now Alfred, you just behave yourself.

Alfred Bridges: Pleased to see ya again me Lady, I'm sure. Welcome to our hovel.

[she backs away slightly aghast]

Alfred Bridges: Oh, proud and haughty, are we?

Ellen Bridges: Alfred, stop it! Stop it!

Jane Marryot: [gives Ellen a consoling hug of reassurance] There there, dear Ellen; I'm so very, very sorry. I quite understand, quite. I'll come and see you again soon.

[leaves with Edward]

Mrs. Snapper: Ya drunken great brute!

Alfred Bridges: You shut your mouth! You mind your business and I'll mind mine.

George Grainger: [tries to stifle Alfred and get him upstairs] Look here old man, you'd better go up and have a lay down.

Alfred Bridges: Leave me alone! Lot-a snobs, that's what. Lot-a blasted great snobs!

George Grainger: Now now...

Alfred Bridges: No, I'm not good enough to be at home when the *quality* comes. Oh no! I'll show you who's good enough!

Ellen Bridges: [sadly while clutching their daughter, Fanny] Should never be able to hold my head up again; never, never!

Alfred Bridges: Ah, who gave Fanny that doll? Her noble *ladyship* I suppose. Well we don't want none of her blasted charity around here.

[shoves George, grabs the doll from Ellen as she screams, and throws it on the ground]

George Grainger: [grabs Alfred and tries to subdue him as he whisks him upstairs] Come on up here. You're comin' upstairs is what you're gonna do. You're comin' right up here.

Alfred Bridges: [pushes George down onto the steps as he shouts before stumbling out the door] Blasted snobs!

Ellen Bridges: [weeps into her handkerchief] She was right, she was right: time changes many things.

Annie: [referring to Fanny's dancing ability, while obviously butchering the ballerina Anna Pavlova's name] Dances like Paveliva, that child.

George Grainger: Dances like who?

Annie: Paveliva, the Russian dancer. Don't be so ignorant.

Fanny Bridges: [Spotting the pilot's landmark flight in the sky while sitting at the seaside with Edith] Look, Bleriot flying the Channel; he's done it!

theatre sign: Arcadian Theatre / Charles B. Cochran presents Fanny Bridges in "Over The Moon" a musical comedy

Fanny Bridges: [upon saying their indefinite goodbyes in Fanny's dressing room backstage at the Arcadian Theatre] Listen Joey, I love you, and you love me. And I've got to go now, I'm late. And you've got to go too. But I'm not going to say goodbye. We've had fun - grand fun - and I don't want you to forget me; that's why I gave you the locket. Keep it close to you Joey... darling Joey.

[she woefully leaves the room to perform onstage and Joey stares at the locket]

Ellen Bridges: [somewhat gloating over her family's newfound more upscale social position] Things aren't what they used to be you know. No, it's all changin'.

Jane Marryot: Yes, I see it is.

Ellen Bridges: But Fanny's at the top of the tree now. She landed the most wonderful office.

Jane Marryot: No Ellen...

Ellen Bridges: What is it?

Jane Marryot: I'm so very, very sorry.

Ellen Bridges: I don't know what you mean.

Jane Marryot: Oh yes you do, inside you must. Something seems to have gone out of all of us and I... I'm not sure that I like what's left.

Jane Marryot: [upon receiving a grave letter just as the war is declared over] There's no answer.

Ellen Bridges: What is it, what's happened?

Jane Marryot: You needn't worry about Fanny and Joe. He won't be able to come back: he's... dead.

[she faints on the floor]

Ellen Bridges: [rushing to her side] Oh, your Ladyship. Oh-ho-ho, me lady.

Man at Disarmament Conference: [the various montage glimpses of 'new-age' ideals, concerns, outlooks, and viewpoints] ... the alternatives of the disarmament, why are we here in Geneva?: to bear witness to the truth, a date the World War is to be crowned by peace. The world must disarm. All efforts to avoid this...

Speaker: ...We talk of disarmament, but where is it? What defence does it offer? What this poison gas gives us is security...

Agitator: ...What's all this talk about balancing the budget? The whole world's broke; we're all broke! The whole thing is a halfless mockery. You ever tire of...

Man at Microphone: ...centuries of investigation, it comes to this: God is a superstition too cruel to impose upon a child. We abandon the primitave yearning of a savage for an object of worship and focus...

Minister on the Pulpit: ...we are all free to join in the scramble for power and riches and to sell our beliefs to buy success, but each of us must one day face an awful question that is echoing down through the ages: 'what shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world?'...