Sequel Script: Part 1
ANNE: "Where is sleep?" "Over the mountains of the moon. Down the valley of the shadow. Beneath the waves of the deep gulf stream," replied the handsome duke in dark languid tones. [she sits to write] In dark languid tones. In dark foreboding, foreboding tones. He fervently stroked her alabaster brow. She fell under his cloak of darkness.
MORGAN HARRIS: Here's your tea, my dear.
ELVIRA EVANS: Morgan, look. Do you think she needs help?
MORGAN HARRIS: Are you a journalist?
ANNE: No, a teacher. No, I'm a writer. Actually, I write books.
MORGAN HARRIS: Oh. Books
MORGAN HARRIS: I hope nothing's spoiled or missing.
ANNE: It doesn't matter. I keep it all filed away in my imagination anyway.
ELVIRA EVANS: Morgan! Morgan, we'll be late for our luncheon.
ANNE: Thank you.
MORGAN HARRIS: Excuse me.
STUDENTS: No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks. When the teacher rings the bell . . .
ANNE: Bye, Barbara Shaw. Don't forget your lunch pail.
GIRL 1: Bye Miss Shirley!
ANNE: Bye! Bye, Jacob. Good luck with your job at the smithy.
BOY: Bye, Miss Shirley.
STUDENTS: Good-bye, Miss Shirley. Good-bye, Miss Shirley.
ANNE: Bye. Bye.
MINNIE MAY BARRY: Good-bye, Miss Shirley.
ANNE: Good-bye, Minnie May.
GIRL 2: Bye, Miss Shirley!
TOMMY BELL: Is that how you smoke it?
ANTHONY PYE: Don't you know anything? You've got to lick it to make the paper stick. [to Minnie May] What do you want?
MINNIE MAY BARRY: My mama says smoking makes your mouth brown and your ears stick out.
ANTHONY PYE: Well, your mother's an old windbag.
MINNIE MAY BARRY: No, she is not. And I'm gonna tell Miss Shirley you two been smoking.
ANTHONY PYE: You do and I'll lock you up and sic my dog on you.
MINNIE MAY BARRY: Will not. You can't catch me! [they grab her, screaming] Help!
ANTHONY PYE: Let's see how you like being locked up, you little tattle-tale.
MINNIE MAY BARRY: Let me go! Let me go! I'm gonna tell on you two! Let me go! Let me go! I'm gonna tell on you two! You two are bad boys. I'm--
ANTHONY PYE: See how you like that, you little tattle-tale.
TOMMY BELL: Yeah, we're gonna sic his dog on you if you say anything.
MINNIE MAY BARRY: [screaming] I want out!
ANNE: Why, Minnie May!
MINNIE MAY BARRY: Anthony Pye and Tommy Bell locked me in here because I was gonna tell on those two. They were smoking cigarettes. And Anthony's gonna sic his watch dog on me.
ANNE: He'll do no such thing. Now, you run home. Your mother will be wondering where you are.
MINNIE MAY BARRY: Alright, Miss Shirley.
MR. PYE: Ah, good day, Miss Shirley.
ANNE: Good afternoon, Mr. Pye.
MR. PYE: Must be glad school's out. I hope my Anthony behaved himself this year.
ANNE: Anthony's grades have been quite good, and he is well liked by everyone. I understand from Minnie May Barry that you have an excellent watch dog looking out for you, Anthony.
MR. PYE: Oh, and that's a fact. No foxes around our chicken coop this year, Miss Shirley.
ANNE: A finer watch dog you'll never see, so Minnie May was just telling me. Oh, and thank you, Anthony, for volunteering with Tommy to whitewash the outhouse for me next Monday. I hear you two are excellent painters. Well, I'll be seeing you, then, Monday morning at 9:00. Good day.
ANNE: I'm sorry. I know you're closed, Mrs. Harrison, but I promised Marilla I'd pick up the mail in town today. The post man, he left a registered card in our box yesterday.
MRS. HARRISON: Lucky you caught us, Anne Shirley. Don't know if I've seen anything come through today, though.
MRS. SLOANE: No, ma'am. No, nothing for Green Gables.
ANNE: But I have a registered card, Mrs. Sloane.
MRS. SLOANE: Oh, just a minute, now. Oh! That's right! I remember. One of them big manilla envelopes that you've been sending out recently did come back yesterday registered mail. Yes, here it is. Now. I can't see a thing without my glasses.
MRS. HARRISON: It's got your name on it, alright. "Curtis Publishing Company, Boston." Ain't they magazine people?
ANNE: Must be a complimentary subscription or some such nuisance. Thanks so much for letting me in. Good afternoon Mrs. Harrison, Mrs. Sloane.
GILBERT: [grabbing letter] So, this is why you keep disappearing on me every time I plan to pick you up after school.
ANNE: Gilbert Blythe!
ANNE: You give that back or I won't speak to you again.
GILBERT: Well, if you're going to be so touchy. [gives back the letter]
ANNE: Thank you.
GILBERT: You know, people think you have been acting very peculiarly lately, and I might as well tell you so. Why didn't you show up at the Carmody Spring Festival? I saved a spot for you at our table.
ANNE: I was busy. I was trying to get my finals marked.
ANNE: Nothing. This is a completely personal matter.
GILBERT: I suppose it must be. You can't keep your word anymore.
GILBERT: Uh-uh. Not until you spill the beans.
ANNE: You won't say anything to your folks or Jane Andrews or Charlie Sloane.
GILBERT: On my honor.
ANNE: And you promise you won't ever tease me about this.
GILBERT: [reading letter] "Dear Miss Shirley, We regret to return the enclosed manuscript Averil's Atonement but are unable to accept it for publication. Sincerely yours, Women's Home Journal Magazine"?
ANNE: You know the story I wrote this spring? I'm attempting to get it published.
GILBERT: Anne, that's tremendous! [rings bell] Listen to this, everybody! Avonlea's public school teacher soon to become world famous Canadian authoress--
ANNE: It hasn't happened yet, you fool! And don't you dare tell anyone. Now, what's all the fuss about Diana Barry?
GILBERT: Well, from what I understand, she's going an extended vacation this summer.
ANNE: Is that all? Where is she going?
GILBERT: You mean, with whom is she going?
ANNE: Alright, with whom, then? What difference does it make?
GILBERT: Fred Wright obviously makes a lot of difference to her. He's proposed and Diana has accepted.
GILBERT: Charlie Sloane found out from Fred himself.
ANNE: Roly Poly Fred Wright? But, they hardly know each other. Of all the stupid, sentimental things for Diana to do. I didn't even know it was like this. She probably only accepted because Fred was the first person to ever ask her.
GILBERT: Don't be silly. Fred's a terrific fellow.
ANNE: He better steer clear of me. He has no business waltzing in, stealing my best friend.
ANNE: No. Just disappointed. Why do people have to grow up and marry, change?
ANNE: I would not. And I defy anyone who would try and make me change.
GILBERT: You do?
ANNE: Last one to the bridge is a stuffed goose!
ANTHONY PYE: Watch out, Rover!
GILBERT: [falls in lake] You've had it now, Miss Shirley.
ANNE: [laughing] Sorry, Diana.
GILBERT: [laughing] Sorry.
ANNE: [laughing] But Gil, he fell in the brook.
FRED WRIGHT: Well, thank you for the lovely walk, Diana.
DIANA: Please thank you mother for the crochets. Myra Gillis had 37 doilies when she got married and I'm determined to have at least as many as she had.
ANNE: I suppose it would be impossible to keep house with only 36 doilies. But I assure you, Mr. Wright, Diana will be the sweetest little homemaker in the world, so long as you can afford to let her keep up with the Gillis'.
FRED WRIGHT: Well, I hope so. Good day, ladies, Gilbert.
GILBERT: Well, I better go get my bicycle. I'll talk to you ladies later. Bye.
ANNE: Diana, I wasn't making fun. I was just teasing. I'm sorry.
DIANA: You always have to be the center of attention whenever Gilbert Blythe is in anyone's company.
ANNE: That's not true. Please, forgive me Diana. I didn't mean to pick a quarrel. Why couldn't you have told me about you and Fred yourself? I feel like I lost my best friend.
DIANA: You were so busy writing your book and marking exam papers. It just happened. Then he asked. I'm really happy. But it does seem ridiculous to think of me being engaged to Fred, doesn't it? I don't care what he looks like; he's got a good heart. He's so thoughtful. We'll probably make a pudgy old couple some day. But it doesn't matter.
ANNE: I am glad for you, Diana.
DIANA: Don't you ever mean to get married?
ANNE: Perhaps. If I meet the right one.
DIANA: What about Gilbert?
ANNE: Gilbert's just a chum. I don't care for him that way. You know what my ideal is, Diana.
DIANA: Tall, irresistibly handsome, proud, and melancholy. But people's ideals change sometimes.
ANNE: Mine wouldn't. And I wouldn't care for any man who didn't fulfill them.
DIANA: What if you never meet him?
ANNE: Then I shall die an old maid.
DIANA: I suppose you're right to be discriminating. Half the men across the country will be courting you when your story's published. You're going to be famous and I'll be so proud. What is it?
ANNE: Women's Home Journal sent it back.
DIANA: What? The editor must be crazy! What reason did he give?
ANNE: No reason at all. Just a printed slip saying it wasn't acceptable.
DIANA: That's ridiculous. He mustn't have read it. I'm going to cancel my subscription immediately.
ANNE: Averil's Atonement. It sounded so inspiring and romantic. If you can tell me truthfully, Diana, if you can recall any major faults in my story?
DIANA: Well, the part where Averil makes the cake. It doesn't--. It doesn't seem to match the rest of the story.
DIANA: Well, I'll have to read it again to remember what my first opinion was. If you let me keep it, maybe I can suggest some changes.
ANNE: You don't know how discouraging it is to get a rejection, Diana. And right when I'm in the midst of writing a new epic: Rosaline's Revenge. It certainly takes the bloom off the rose.
DIANA: Don't be discouraged, Anne.
RACHEL: Anne Shirley! I'm not going to put up with this a day longer. I warned Marilla not to let it happen again. Well, it has. Patience has ceased to be a virtue. I want this rumpus stopped right now.
ANNE: Would you just calm down and tell me what the trouble is.
RACHEL: Calm down? First it was our potatoes. Then my June lilies, which Thomas planted on our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Now this darn jersey cow's devoured almost all my prize-winning cabbages. And if Tillie Boulter walks away with the red ribbon at the Charlottetown exhibition, you can let Marilla know I am holding her financially responsible.
ANNE: I'm sorry, Mrs. Lynde, because Dolly is my cow, not Marilla's. Matthew bought her for me two years ago as a calf from Mr. Bell.
RACHEL: Sorry? Well, sorry is not going to help the habit this cow has made trampling through my cabbages. And if you think--
ANNE: I am sorry, but the fence that separates your potato field from our pasture is an eyesore. And if you'd kept it in better repair, Dolly wouldn't have broken in.
RACHEL: A jail fence wouldn't keep that devil out. And what's more, my Thomas has been far too ill the past six months to repair any fences. And I know one thing, you red-headed snippet! You'd be better employed fixing that fence yourself rather than mooning around, wasting your time, writing for some rubbishy magazine.
ANNE: I would rather spend my time profitably than squander it in idle gossip, meddling in other people's affairs. I won't cherish any hard feelings against you because of your narrow-minded opinions. But, thank goodness I have an imagination which allows me to understand how it must be to find a cow amongst prize-winning cabbages. Dolly shall never break into your field again. I give you my word of honor on that point.
RACHEL: Well, you just make sure that she doesn't!
MARILLA: Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.
RACHEL: Well, Marilla, I hope that canal horse destroys your tomato patch next. And don't expect any sympathy from your girl. I've always warned you she had a temper to match her hair.
MARILLA: Oh, good Lord.
DIANA: She can't possibly get out now unless she tears the fence down. I never realized Mrs. Lynde was such a crank.
ANNE: There's certainly nothing of a kindred spirit in her.
MARILLA: You set your heart too much on frivolous things and then crash down into despair when you don't get them.
MARILLA: Well, maybe it does. But I'd rather walk calmly along and do without both flying and thud.
ANNE: Martin. He's forgotten the cows on Orchard Slope.
ANNE: I was as polite as I could be, under the circumstances, Marilla. And I apologized, despite her stinging personal remarks.
MARILLA: Rachel specializes in getting under people's skin, I know. But you ought to have bit your tongue, Anne, seeing as we were in the wrong.
ANNE: No, I ought to have sold Dolly to Gilbert's father a month ago when he wanted to buy her. I thought it was just as well to wait until the auction and let all the stock go together. Martin! There are two more cows!
MARILLA: Rachel will get over this. Her nerves have been raw lately, and deservedly so. Thomas is pretty bad, and Dr. Spencer says that he won't be with us for very long.
ANNE: I hope she doesn't have to sell her farm. That'd be a terrible loss. I mean, I know how we felt when Matthew died.
MARILLA: Anne, I wanted to talk to you about something for a while. I know you've been content enough here, but I never feel at ease thinking about how you've given up so much of your own opportunity.
ANNE: Marilla, I couldn't leave you alone here. Besides, I'd probably make a much better teacher than a writer, any day.
MARILLA: Anne, you have been my comfort and joy since Matthew passed away. But I promised myself that when you gave up the Avery scholarship to stay home, I'd make it up to you one day.
ANNE: I've never been sorry I stayed for a moment.
MARILLA: Mr. Barry has really taken over the farm almost completely. And my eyesight is so much better now, I can manage with Martin. Perhaps one of the Piccard girls over in Rustico could board with me for a while so you could dust off some of your ambitions if you like. What do you think about that?
MARILLA: Matthew and I spent forty years looking after papa. Perhaps I never mentioned it before, but I can't help but confess it was with a regretful heart at times.
ANNE: You had a little bit of romance in your own life, Marilla.
ANNE: Do you suppose that Mr. Blythe remembers that he was your beau?
MARILLA: Stuff and nonsense. [Anne laughs] Oh, no. That's enough now. No more foolishness.
ANNE: Oh, it seems so funny and horrible to think of Diana marrying Fred. Doesn't it?
MARILLA: What is so horrible about it?
ANNE: Well he certainly isn't the wild, dashing young man Diana used to want to marry. Fred is extremely good.
MARILLA: That is exactly what he should be. Would you want to marry a wicked man?
MARILLA: You'll have more sense someday, I hope.