Becky Sharp Page #2

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Well, here we are. Don't be making up your mind

too soon if you'll be wanting to stay here.

Are those... are they my pupils?

Ay, brood of Satan, that's what they are.

Well, you see, for better or worse,

you're at Queen's Crawley.

The food's bad, the service hard,

and the pay miserly.

I arranged for the position through correspondence.

Sir Pitt Crawley told you about all this in his letter,

did he?

Of course he didn't. He blessed the devil himself

a drive in the bargain.

For the last time, what is all that noise for?

Stop or it'll be the death of you!

Silence, have you lost your minds?

Quiet, you hear me?

Children, your governess.

Come and meet them.

Now. Try and make ladies and gentlemen of them.

This is their brother.

Nothing better that they for his cold ears.

I welcome you under our roof tree.

May you find peace and happiness here.

Peace and happiness, he says!

Stop it! Stop it!

I don't think I've had sufficient training

for the position your father so kindly offered me.

If you would so inform the Baronet.

He inform the Baronet?

Hasn't the Baronet ears of his own to hear?

Bless you, Missy. I am Sir Pitt Crawley

and these are my children.

Quiet! Quiet!

Quiet!

That's another son.

As worthless a scoundrel as ever wore

the King's uniform.

Then you'll not be staying, eh?

Pucks take it...

Why, you're the prettiest governess I've ever

had my hands on.

Sir Pitt, as I was saying, although I haven't had

enough experience for so exacting a position,

I should like to accept.

These dear little children have completely

won my heart.

You'll live to regret it.

But I'm glad.

My name is Becky, darlings.

Would you like me to read you a pretty story?

No!

And here I bring you "The Blind Washerwoman of Moorefield".

A moral and instructive volume.

Mr. Pitt, it's kind of you, but I haven't yet finished

"Thrump's Legacy" that you brought me last week.

Read them both, then, read them both.

Works by pious authors are soothing to the soul.

What was that about the soul, Pitt?

Let me hear it too.

You know how your sermons always affect me.

You are too far sunk in the morass of iniquity,

my beloved brother, for my sermons.

I hope to see you later, Miss Rebecca.

Now I must work on my speech

for the questionable Aid Society.

Questionable Aid Society.

How on earth do you stand him, Becky?

What choice have I?

I must watch the side my bread is buttered on.

Why bread when that little mouth

was made for cake and kisses?

I know the two of you would willingly supply the second.

Oh, not enough.

Not half so nourishing as bread.

On the contrary. Every kiss counts, Becky.

I'm returning to London tomorrow.

Regimental duty.

London is such a large town.

So many willing lips to please a soldier.

Yes, but none like yours.

Becky, these pretty little hands,

who will hold them when I'm gone?

They'll be very busy.

Washing Violet, combing Rose,

mending Sir Pitt's shirts.

Oh, blasted, you shouldn't be doing all that.

Becky, if I were to ask you to come to London...

to find a position for you.

I've tried all that

No, Queen's Crawley is my haven.

Oh, but there must be something.

Some... Becky, wait!

I have an aunt in London.

Young and pretty, of course.

No, old and a spinster, but rich.

I can persuade her that she shouldn't stay alone.

That she needs a companion.

And I need a protector, Rawdon.

Becky!

Becky Sharp!

Can't you hear me? Where is that girl?

Sharp! Sharp! Sharp!

Miss Crawley, mam. Are you perhaps calling

Miss Sharp, mam?

No! I'm calling on heaven

to help me preserve me calm!

Where is me drops? Where is me jelly?

Am I to sit here and be murdered with inattention?

Where in blazes is that misbegotten girl?

Miss Crawley, mam,

if I may venture the opinion, mam...

Miss Sharp has left the house, mam.

Probably on some dark amorous errand.

Some dark amorous errand, eh?

I wouldn't put it past her.

I've been watching her for weeks.

A smile for the butcher, and a smile for the baker.

That girl hasn't a principle to bless herself with.

That's what I like about her.

What are those weeds doing here?

You know how vegetation nauseates me.

But these were brought by your nephew, mam.

Captain Crawley.

Very cozy nosegays.

Throw it out! And throw my nephew out too.

What the devil is he doing around here

every single day?

Well, that's not hard to guess, mam.

Miss Sharp has a way of blinking,

and a way of winking.

What? Are you suggesting that my nephew

would as much as notice that girl?

How dare you? Show him in.

And get Miss Sharp for me.

Go to her room! Get her!

Don't you come back here without her!

Yes, mam.

Oh, my head, my head.

I know I shall get the wafers.

Miss Crawley is awaiting you, sir.

Dear Aunt Julia.

Well, sir, to what am I indebted

for the question of the honor of this visit?

To the affection of a devoted nephew.

And do devoted nephews always get themselves

oiled and barbered to call on their maiden aunts?

Or did you hope to find Becky Sharp at home?

Answer me!

Becky, eh?

Now I will not have you so much as look at Becky.

Remember that!

That girl will twist you round her little finger.

But Aunt Julia, I assure you...

Don't assure me, sir, I assure you!

I will indulge and I've been generous. I've paid your card debts

and I've laughed at your extravagance!

But I'll not have you ensnared

by any calculated little snip of a menial.

The woman you marry must be a lady.

And a lady of quality!

How dare you come bounding into the room like this.

Just as I knowed. Miss Sharp's not in her room.

She's not in the house.

There isn't a stitch of clothing in the closet

and there's a trunk all packed.

Trunk? Packed? Well, where is it?

Bring it here! Instantly!

Well, well, well...!

Do you expect me to go for it myself?

Hurry! Hurry!

Who is it now?

Am I never to have any peace?

Rawdon, put that brandy down!

Hards and spirits are for invalids only.

Give it to me.

Mr. Pitt calling, mam.

That pewling hypocrite!

Don't you dare show him in!

Well, sir. Isn't London difficult enough

without your presence?

Here you come, reeking with the vulgar

urges of the country.

Madam, I've been sent by my good father.

That old ruffrub prate, what does he want?

My father wishes to know if you still have need

of Miss Rebecca'a services.

I certainly haven't, but neither has he.

Sir Pitt is lonesome, madam, very lonesome.

If he's lonesome, let him join Napoleon at Elba.

Then they can both be lonesome together.

Ah, good!

The trunk, mam.

Bring it here.

Open it!

Now we shall see what we shall see.

Angels of Bath!

What the deuce is this?

Not what a respectable female I should gaze on.

And look at this!

Pantomime. And an orange wig!

Confound you, leave her things alone.

She's acting on my orders, Rawdon.

Here's her rouge...

Ah, cosmetics, sinful, sinful.

Give me that.

And here is Becky Sharp herself.

Wait! It's Becky's own handwriting.

"A Portrait of my Mother".

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