A Christmas Carol
Yes.
Quite dead.
As a doornail.
Certificate of death, sir.
Stop!
Back away, paddock.
Tuppence is tuppence.
- Beg your pardon!
- I say!
Delinquents.
Newspaper!
We're hungry, sir!
Please, sir, we're very hungry.
Any morsel. We're hungry, sir.
- Any scraps.
- We're starving,
Please, sir. We're very hungry.
Oh! Merry Christmas,
from his lordship, the mayor!
- Please, sir.
- Oh, look. There it is.
Oi! Come back here with that!
That's our meat!
Give it back! That's ours!
Come back here!
- There you are, sir.
- Thanks.
Fresh hot chestnuts.
- How would you like this one?
- That's perfect.
That's a nice fresh eel.
Here is the Father, the Son
and the Holy Ghost. Get lost.
And under which one is the pea?
Boom, boom, boom, boom...
Boom! Get out of here.
There we are. Watch this now.
Merry Christmas, Uncle!
- God save you.
- Bah! Humbug!
Christmas a humbug?
Uncle! You don't mean that.
Merry Christmas.
What reason have you to be merry?
You're poor enough.
What right have you to be so dismal?
You're rich enough.
- Humbug!
- Don't be cross, Uncle.
What else can I be when I live
in such a world of fools as this?
Merry Christmas.
What's Christmas time to you but
a time for paying bills without money.
A time for finding yourself a year older
and not a penny richer.
If I could work my will,
every idiot who goes about
with "Merry Christmas" on his lips
should be boiled in his own pudding
and buried with a stake of holly
through his head!
- Uncle!
- Nephew!
Keep Christmas in your own way
and let me keep it in mine.
Keep it? But you don't keep it!
Much good it has ever done you.
There are many things from which I have
derived good and have not profited.
Christmas being among them.
But I have always thought of Christmas
as a kind, charitable time.
The only time when men
open their shut-up hearts
and think of all people
as fellow travellers to the grave
and not some other race of creatures
bound on other journeys.
And therefore, Uncle,
although it has never put a scrap
of gold or silver in my pocket,
I believe it has done me good,
and I say, God bless it!
Let me hear another
sound out of you, Cratchit,
and you'll keep Christmas
by losing your situation!
You're quite a powerful speaker, sir.
A wonder you don't go into Parliament.
Don't be cross, Uncle.
Come, dine with us tomorrow.
I'll see you in hell first.
But why?
Why so cold-headed, Uncle? Why?
Why did you get married?
Because I fell in love.
Because...
...you fell...
...in love?
Good afternoon.
I want nothing from you.
I ask nothing of you.
- Why can't we be friends?
- Good afternoon.
I'm sorry, with all my head,
to find you so resolute.
But I have made the trial
in homage to Christmas, and therefore,
- merry Christmas, Uncle!
- Good afternoon!
- And a happy New Year!
- Good afternoon!
And a very merry Christmas
to you too, Mr Cratchit.
Merry Christmas to you, sir.
There's another one.
A clerk making 15 shillings a week...
...and with a wife and family,
talking about a merry Christmas.
I'll retire to Bedlam.
Ah. Good afternoon.
Scrooge and Marley's, I believe?
Ah...
Have I the pleasure of addressing
Mr Scrooge or Mr Marley?
Mr Marley has been dead
these seven years.
He died seven years ago...
this very night.
Oh...
Well, we have no doubt
that his generosity
is well represented
by his surviving partner.
At this festive season
of the year, Mr Scrooge,
it is more than usually desirable that
we should make some slight provision
for the poor and the destitute.
Many thousands are in want
of common comfort, sir.
Are there no prisons?
Prisons? Yes, yes, plenty of prisons.
And the union workhouses,
are they still in operation?
They are. I wish
I could say they were not.
The treadmill in full vigour?
- Very busy, sir.
- Good!
I was afraid something had occurred
to stop them in their useful course.
Yes. At this festive season, a few
of us are endeavoring to raise a fund
to buy the poor some meat
and drink and means of warmth.
What shall we put you down for?
- Nothing.
- Oh, you wish to remain anonymous?
I wish to be left alone!
I don't make merry myself at Christmas,
and I can't afford
to make idle people merry.
I support the establishments
I have mentioned.
must go there.
Many cannot go there.
And, well, frankly,
many would rather die.
Then they had better do it
and decrease the surplus population.
Good afternoon, gentlemen!
Good afternoon.
You'll want all day tomorrow, I suppose?
Well, if quite convenient, sir.
It's not convenient, and it's not fair.
If I were to dock you a half a crown
for it, you'd think yourself ill-used.
And yet you don't think me ill-used
when I pay a day's wages for no work.
Well, it's only once a year, sir.
Poor excuse for picking a man's pocket
every 25th of December.
But I suppose you
must have the whole day.
Be here all the earlier
the next morning.
Sir.
Whoa!
In honour of Christmas Eve!
Whoa!
Bugger it!
Where are you? Here!
Why does everything
seem to happen to me?
Ah!
Get away! Get away!
Ha! Balderdash!
I have given myself the willies.
That's what it is.
It's all still a hum...ah!
Oh!
How now!
What do you want with me?
Oh, much.
- Who are you?
- Ask me who I was.
Who were you then?
In life, I was your partner,
Jacob Marley.
Can you sit down?
- I can.
- Do it then.
You do not believe in me.
I don't.
Why do you doubt your senses?
Because the littlest thing
can affect them.
A slight disorder of the stomach
can make them cheat.
You may be an undigested bit of beef.
A blot of mustard.
A crumb of cheese.
A fragment of underdone potato.
There's more of gravy than of grave
about you, whatever you are.
Mercy! Dreadful apparition,
why do you trouble me?
Man of worldly mind,
do you believe in me or not?
I do! I must!
Woe! Woe is me!
You are fettered in chains. Why?
I wear the chain I forged in life.
I made it link by link and yard by yard.
Do you recognise its pattern?
Can you imagine the weight and length
of the chain you bear?
It was as heavy and long
as this seven Christmas Eves ago.
Oh, yours is a ponderous chain.
Jacob, tell me no more.
Speak comfort to me, Jacob.
I have none to give.
I cannot stay.
I cannot linger anywhere.
Mark me, in life, my spirit never walked
beyond our countinghouse,
never roved beyond the narrow limits
of our money-changing hole.
Now endless journeys lie before me.
Seven years dead
and travelling all the time?
The whole time. No rest, no peace.
You must've covered
a lot of ground in seven years.
I was blind!
Blind! I could not see my own life!
Squandered and misused.
Oh, woe...oh, woe is me!
But you were always
a good man of business!
Business!
Mankind...was my business.
The common welfare was my business.
Charity, mercy, forbearance,
and benevolence were all my...
Hear me! My time is nearly gone.
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"A Christmas Carol" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/a_christmas_carol_1850>.
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