Becky Sharp Page #4

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Can't I pressure you, Mrs. Crawley?

That's just what I was afraid of.

Such an immodest dance,

don't you think, Prince, all cling and swing.

It's the dance of the angel.

A fallen angel.

Mama, she slapped Papa.

That was Papa Mrs. Crawley slapped.

Pay no attention, Blanche.

You're too fine to notice such vulgarity.

Oh, that slap. What memories of my folks.

Would you believe, mum,

Mrs. Crawley honored Myers once by slapping him?

Why, the inelegant creature.

Whatever induced the Duchess of Richmond

to invite a mere ex-governess?

If I may, gentlemen, I'm weakening.

I find it impossible to choose from among you.

Then choose me, Becky.

Becky?

Don't you know me?

Have I changed so much in these few years?

Oh, no, it isn't you. It can't be.

Not Joseph Sedley.

The name sounds familiar to me, mam.

By Jove, Becky, it's good to see you.

You haven't changed a bit. I could have picked you out

from amongst the regiment.

I'm still the same little girl

who wasn't good enough for you to marry.

Don't say that, Becky. You know I'd have married you

in a moment if it hadn't been for those elephants.

You know, it was father who shipped me off to India

to hunt the blasted pachyderm.

I know, your dear little sister Amelia

told me all about it.

But, then, what were you doing in India, Jos?

Your son?

Becky! You blacken my character.

No, I collected taxes and butterflies for the Prince.

I gave him a lot of butterflies.

I'd rather hear about the taxes.

Come, let's make Rawdon listen.

Rawdon? Where is he?

Three eights, good for six

and one for his knob, seven.

Sorry, old chap, my game again.

As usual.

It's nothing but luck, eh, Rawdon?

Nothing but luck, George.

There you go, then I owe you 30 pounds.

Rawdon, George!

I brought you a dear, old friend.

Hello, Rawdon.

I've already seen Joseph, all of him.

Well, you've been neglecting me all evening.

Take me for a dance, George.

Joseph will play your silly cribbage.

Oh, Rawdon, perhaps you'll let him beat you

at billiards.

Billiards? I haven't touched a cue for three years.

Although we have a similar game in India.

Except we play it with one ball and a mallet

on horseback.

I'm dying for a dance.

No, I want to talk to you.

Here.

Now you shall give me my answer.

I'm not very good at giving answers.

I seldom listen to the questions.

You'll listen to this one.

Why didn't you reply to my letter?

Because only very silly people put such things

in writing.

Rawdon can read, you know.

What if he had seen your letter?

Or somebody had whispered about it into Amelia's

pearly little ears.

It's too late for me to be concerned

about Amelia.

You and I are going away.

Are we?

I love Rawdon, always remember that.

I remember it daily.

I remember when I lose to him 10 pounds, 50 pounds.

I tell myself it'll buy so much lace,

so much silk for Becky.

Champagne, servants. You've been expensive, Becky,

but I lost willingly.

Now, I've no more. I'm in debt.

Have you ever tried to borrow?

Not a bad method.

There's no one left to borrow from.

But that doesn't matter, does it?

You don't care anything about money.

You make such charming conversation.

Why do you deprive Amelia?

Becky, listen to me.

No, I don't want to go in there.

I can't bear to see them together.

Becky on George's arm.

George is either dancing with her or losing at cards

to her husband.

Oh, William, I can't do anything, I'm helpless.

I'll take Becky for a dance.

And after the dance?

She'd find him again, trust her.

If I could only make George understand.

And there's another thing I didn't like

about your letter.

You misspelled every other word.

Oh, hang my spelling. Don't play with me.

Is there someone else?

No.

Who is that man?

Oh, I intended just a homey, intimate affair.

A little singing, dancing.

Oh, my dear, dear Lord Steyne.

Dear Lord Steyne, I've been looking for you.

I thought you were hopelessly lost.

Your Grace must blame the Polish Ambassador.

Diplomatic secrets?

Not at all, the Ambassador too has chosen to bring his wife.

She has won me over completely

to the Polish cause.

At least to the better half of the Polish cause.

Tell me, what is his name?

I want to know.

How perfect your instincts are, Becky.

The Marquess of Steyne, Steyne with his millions.

Bigger game, eh?

Will you tell me about Napoleon?

I'm so interested in him.

Is there any danger here in Brussels?

No, madam, as far as I know,

Napoleon is many leagues away.

Is it true that the King of Prussia is bent

on leading his own army?

Really? When did he lead an army?

I wish I could whisper to you what the Czar Alexander

told me about that.

Milord, you hobnob with all the crowned heads

of Europe.

No, only with those that still remain

on their royal shoulders.

You see, dear Lady Bareacres,

royal heads have been known

to hop away from their bodies, especially in France.

Remarkable how many people managed

to come tonight.

Lady Blanche, I was so sorry to hear

of your mother's misfortune.

I do hope the operation was successful.

To think of her going blind at her age

and now she can't recognize even acquaintances.

These are glass eyes you're wearing,

aren't they?

Perfect, perfect.

I do hope they'll continue to attract men.

Oh!

Who is that woman?

The brightest new star in our social sky.

Introduce me. I can spend many nights studying astronomy.

Mrs. Crawley, permit me.

The Marquess of Steyne asks the honor

of your acquaintance.

Milord.

Will you favor me with a dance, Mrs. Crawley?

What a joy it is to waltz.

So fond of it?

Oh, I could die for the waltz.

There are some who call it an immodest dance,

but I've always called it the dance of the angels.

George, Amelia's alone on the terrace.

Go to her. Ask her for a dance.

It's a drink I need, not a dance.

For me, war is rising stocks.

I play for Napoleon's defeat. What do you play?

I? Patience.

The we are both above he fortunes of nations.

But not above wars.

Or champagne, froth, bubbles.

Your head swims, your heart beats.

Then your glass is empty.

And you wait for the headache.

Headaches can be cured.

Heartaches too, milord?

By drinking more wine. A new bottle.

And a new hand to pour it.

Oh, milord, I get drunk so easily.

Are we both waiting for a light in that sky,

madam?

Yes, I want this night to end.

I don't want the dark.

Heaven knows if it will end too soon.

If light comes before it's due.

Your Grace.

Who was that man?

The Duke of Wellington.

What's there in the distance?

There? A village. A small village.

Waterloo, or some such name.

And then we went on from the...

And it was at that point...

What was that?

Did you hear it?

Shhh. Listen again.

Cannon?

Thunder?

Artillery?

No, it must be a thunderstorm.

I say, was that a cannon?

Your Grace, can they shoot this far?

Sometimes they almost wish they could.

It's nothing. It must have been the wind.

It's just a thunderstorm.

I was so frightened.

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