1بخش

Now, remember, keep your shoulders back.

Okay, put your arm around your brother.

That’s it.

Right, and freeze.

Okay, one more.

Now, just to review, you’re going to follow along the procession until you get to the headmaster.

And at that point, he will indicate to you to light the candles of the boys.

All right.

All right, boys, let’s settle down.

Banners up.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys, the light of knowledge.

One hundred years ago, in 1859, 41 boys sat in this room and were asked the same question that now greets you at the start of each semester.

Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?

Tradition, honor, discipline, excellence.

In her first year, Welton Academy graduated five students.

Last year, we graduated 51.

And more than 75 percent of those went on to the Ivy League.

This kind of accomplishment is the result of fervent dedication to the principles taught here.

This is why you parents have been sending us your sons.

This is why we are the best preparatory school in the United States.

As you know, our beloved Mr. Portius of the English Department retired last term.

You will have the opportunity later to meet his replacement, Mr. John Keating, himself an honors graduate of this school.

And who, for the past several years,has been teaching at the highly regarded Chester School in London.

Richard, you forgot your bag.

Hi, Charlie.

Hey, how you doing?

Don’t worry, I’ve got your club assignment.

I’m glad you could come by.

Thrilling ceremony as usual, Dr. Nolan.

You’ve been away too long.

Hello, Dr. Nolan.

How’ve you been?

This is our youngest, Todd.

Mr. Anderson.

You have some big shoes to fill, young man.

Your brother was one of our finest.

Thank you.

Lovely ceremony.

Thank you.

I’m so glad you liked it.

Gale.

John.

Good to see you again.

Hello, Mr. Nolan.

Neil.

We expect great things from you this year.

Thank you, sir.

Well, he won’t disappoint us.

Right, Neil?

I’ll do my best, sir.

Come on, son.

No tears, now.

Chin up.

Chin up.

I don’t want to go here.

I love you.

I’ll walk you over.

Do your lessons.

Hey.

I hear we’re gonna be roommates.

I’m Neil Perry.

I’m Todd Anderson.

Why’d you leave Balincrest?

My brother went here.

Oh, so you’re that Anderson.

Well, this is in case of his sinuses.

And, oh, if he can’t swallow, you give him one of these.

And if he has trouble breathing, you can give him some of those.

Fine, yes.

Ooh.

Did you remember your vaporizer?

Yeah, it’s in my room.

Hey, how’s it going, Neil?

Hey, Knox.

Neil.

Study group tonight?

Yeah, sure.

Business as usual, huh?

Hey, I heard you got the new kid.

Looks like a stiff.

Ha, ha.

Oops.

Listen, don’t mind Cameron.

He’s born with his foot in his mouth.

You know what I mean?

Rumor has it you did summer school.

Yep.

Chemistry.

My father thought I should get ahead.

How was your summer, Slick?

Keen.

Meeks, door, closed.

Yes, sir.

Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?

Travesty, horror, decadence, excrement.

Okay.

Study group.

Meeks aced Latin, I didn’t quite flunk English.

So if you want, we got our study group.

Sure, Cameron asked me too.

Anyone mind including him?

What’s his specialty, bootlicking?

He’s your roommate.

That’s not my fault.

Uh, I’m sorry.

My name is Steven Meeks.

Oh, this is Todd Anderson.

Nice to meet you.

Nice to meet you.

Charlie Dalton.

I’m Knox Overstreet.

Todd’s brother was Jeffrey Anderson.

Oh, yeah, sure.

Well.

Valedictorian.

National Merit scholar.

Oh, well.

Welcome to Hell-ton.

It’s every bit as tough as they say, unless you’re a genius like Meeks.

He flatters me.

That’s why I help him with Latin.

And English, and trig.

It’s open.

Father, I thought you’d gone.

Mr. Perry, sir.

Keep your seats, fellas.

Neil, I’ve just spoken to Mr. Nolan.

I think that you’re taking too many extracurricular activities this semester, and I’ve decided that you should drop the school annual.

But I’m the assistant editor this year.

Well, I’m sorry, Neil.

But, father, I can’t.

It wouldn’t be fair.

Fellas, could you excuse us for a moment?

Don’t you ever dispute me in public.

Father, I wasn’t.

After you’ve finished medical school and you’re on your own, then you can do as you damn well please, but until then, you do as I tell you.

That clear?

Yes, sir, I’m sorry.

Ahem.

You know how much this means to your mother, don’t you?

Yes, sir.

You know me, always taking on too much.

Well, that’s my boy.

Now, listen, you need anything, you let us know, huh?

Yes, sir.

Why doesn’t he let you do what you want?

Yeah, Neil.

Tell him off.

It couldn’t get any worse.

Oh, that’s rich.

Like you guys tell your parents off?

Mr. Future-Lawyer and Mr. Future-Banker.

Okay, so I don’t like it any more than you do.

Don’t tell me how to talk to my father.

You guys are the same.

All right, all right.

Jesus.

What are you gonna do?

What I have to do.

Drop the annual.

I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over it.

It’s just a bunch of jerks trying to impress Nolan.

I don’t care.

I don’t give a damn about any of it.

Well, uh, Latin?

Eight o’clock in my room?

Yes.

Sounds good.

Todd, you’re welcome to join us.

Yeah, come along, pal.

Thanks.

McAllister: Slow down, boys.

Slow down, you horrible phalanx of pubescence.

Pick three laboratory experiments from the project list and report on them every five weeks.

The first 20 questions at the end of Chapter 1 are due tomorrow.

Again, please.

Your study of trigonometry requires absolute precision.

Anyone failing to turn in any homework assignment will be penalized one point off their final grade.

Let me urge you now not to test me on this point.

Hey, Spaz.

Spaz.

Brain damage.

Shh.

Well, come on.

Is he kidding?

He’s gotta be.

Let’s go.

Where?

Let’s go, guys.

Okay, go.

O Captain!

my Captain!

Who knows where that comes from?

Anybody?

Not a clue?

It’s from a poem by Walt Whitman about Mr. Abraham Lincoln.

Now, in this class, you can either call me Mr. Keating, or if you’re slightly more daring, O Captain, My Captain.

Now, let me dispel a few rumors so they don’t fester into facts.

Yes, I too attended Hell-ton and survived.

And no, at that time, I was not the mental giant you see before you.

I was the intellectual equivalent of a 98-pound weakling.

I would go to the beach and people would kick copies of Byron in my face.

Now, Mr. Pitts.

That’s a rather unfortunate name.

Mr. Pitts, where are you?

Mr. Pitts, will you open your hymnal to page 542?

Read the first stanza of the poem you find there.

“To the Virgins, To Make Much of Time”?

Yes, that’s the one.

Somewhat appropriate, isn’t it?

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

Old time is still a-flying:

And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying.

Thank you, Mr. Pitts.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may

The Latin term for that sentiment is carpe diem.

Now, who knows what that means?

Carpe diem, that’s “seize the day.

Very good, Mr.?

Meeks.

Meeks.

Another unusual name.

Seize the day.

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may