The pursuit of happiness

Jo's son is born. They name him Jolyon, fifth of the name in direct line, but decide to call him Jolly.

Aunt Juley finds a dog in the park, and keeps it over the objections of Timothy and Anne. Juley can keep her dog: nobody has claimed her from the police. Soames lunches with his family, then leaves them to catch his train south. James complains, but Emily reminds him that he was young once too. Winifred has labor pangs.

Soames sits at a concert with Irene: a Beethoven piano piece. His attention is completely focused on her face. Her attention is focused on the music. When it ends, she speaks to him and he doesn't react at first. She accuses him of being asleep, completely blind to his obvious focus on her. She talks about love and surrender to him, and he's rapt. She's talking about music. He's thinking about her. She tries to explain to him, but he doesn't understand how music can rouse these emotions. She laughs at him. As the next movement begins, he apologizes to her and tells her he must go back to London tonight. He's had a telegram-- his sister has had a son.

Dartie and George celebrate the birth of the first Dartie with a lot of brandy and a couple of cigars. Young Jolyon walks by, and is accosted by the drunk Dartie. Jolyon pushes him aside and walks on. Dartie doesn't know what to name his new son. George says to call him Cato-- George won a tenner on a horse named Cato. "Damned if I'm going to call my son after a horse," says Dartie. It's classical, says George. "Here you go, Roman studbook. Publius Valerius Cato, by Virgil out of Lydia," says George. "Not gonna call me son Cato," says Dartie. "Call him Publius Valerius!" says George. "But why not James?" 'James' is reserved, says Dartie. That fella Soames has a look in his eye...

Indeed he does. He's pacing up and down the drawing room in Bournemouth, checking himself in the mirror, nervous. Irene enters the house, home from a walk, and is told to "be nice to that nice Mr Forsyte" by her stepmother. Irene is bemused. She goes in to find Soames. He tells her that his visit was an impulse. He then makes a clumsy confession of love to her, more a business proposal than a proposal of marriage. But when she is surprised, he talks more like a lover, telling her of how he's loved her from the very first moment. She refuses him: she feels nothing for him, had no awareness of his feelings. Soames sulks, then stalks off, not accepting her refusal.

We see a montage of the assault on Irene's resolve. Her stepmother lectures her over and over about how foolish she'd be to refuse this opportunity to marry a rich man. London society, the opera, the theater, everything open before her. Stepfather Lomax lectures her as well. Meanwhile, Soames persists: writing her love letters, sending her presents. Irene returns the presents, tears up the letters. In the final scene, the stepmother explains to Irene that the lease on the house is up and they'll be moving away. Irene must move with them, because she's under 21. God knows what Irene will do after she's 21, but the stepmother doesn't really care about that. Irene seems distressed by the move. She bursts into tears when her stepmother has left the room. Stepfather Lomax moves in: crying? that fellow Forsyte isn't worth it; cold sort of legal chap. Lomax knows what kind of man Irene wants. Come up north with him! Ignore the wife! Lomax will show her a good time. Irene struggles away and runs out of the house, past a surprised Soames. Soames shoots Lomax an angry glance, then runs after Irene.

She doesn't tell him what happened, though he asks. She reminds him that he promised her he'd meet any condition she set. Does he mean it? He does. Does he think marriage on condition can work? He doesn't know. Hope begins to show in his face. She asks him to set her free if she fails to be a good and loving wife to him. You won't fail! he says, but the request pains him. He swears it to her, on his honor. She will marry him. He kisses her hands, then her cheek.

They are married. It is their wedding night. Soames lies in bed, alone, looking over at Irene. She's standing at the window, in her nightgown, weeping.

Monty hasn't paid for the pearls. Winifred is shocked. He proposes they get Papa to pay.	A third Jolyon enters the scene.	Well, Frances didn't live long. Horses! Can't be trusted.	Jolyon reads a letter from Jo, refusing his money.
Dog at Timothy's.	Timothy is outraged by the idea of a dog.	He's obsessed.	Soames listens.
Irene talks about surrender, love, and playing the piano.	Soames doesn't understand how music comes into it.	What ho! The birth of a Dartie must be celebrated.	The nervous suitor waits.
Irene explains to Soames why he's feeling impulsive today.	"Surely you must have guessed? Surely you must know that I love you!"	"No, Soames, don't touch me." "Irene!"	She's sorry if she's hurt him.
The evil stepmother lectures Irene.	She returns his gifts, refuses his proposals, tears up his love letters. He's sore at heart but steadfast and silent as the grave.	The evil Mr Lomax finally pushes her over the edge.	Can a marriage based on conditions work? He doesn't know. She makes him promise to let her go if their marriage isn't a success. The request is painful, but he swears it.
She will marry him.	With this ring, I thee wed. What God hath yoked together, let no man put asunder.	The sex thing doesn't seem to have worked out the way he expected.	But talking about it with Irene is impossible.

Novels

The story of Aunt Juley's dog is from the short story "Dog at Timothy's". It's collected in On Forsyte 'Change and is not in the public domain yet. The origin of Val's name is given in In chancery, as is a version of the story of Winifred's pearls. The rest of the script is invention and elaboration on material by Galsworthy about Soames's courtship of Irene:

On just such a day as this Soames had got from Irene the promise he had asked her for so often. Seated on the fallen trunk of a tree, he had promised for the twentieth time that if their marriage were not a success, she should be as free as if she had never married him!

"Do you swear it?" she had said. A few days back she had reminded him of that oath. He had answered: "Nonsense! I couldn't have sworn any such thing!" By some awkward fatality he remembered it now. What queer things men would swear for the sake of women! He would have sworn it at any time to gain her! He would swear it now, if thereby he could touch her-- but nobody could touch her, she was cold-hearted!

And so on, with many d--ded screamers!

Lomax is entirely an invention. He does provide a persuasive answer to the question "Why did Irene marry Soames anyway?" The novel doesn't supply any answers, since Soames does not understand. The modern reader (or viewer of the mid-1960s) is likely to be unsatisfied with Irene's behavior absent a motivation like Lomax.