Little Women Page #8

or your old friends?

No, I haven't.

And you, and you alone,

are responsible for that.

Thank you, my little friend.

You know, I have seen Martha

many times before in Vienna, in Milan...

but never have I enjoyed it so much.

Now I know why.

Before, I have gone alone.

Tonight I went with you.

There is no greater pleasure

than to hear or see something beautiful...

with someone.

- Someone who...

- Miss Josephine.

- Kitty, you should be asleep.

- I want to tell you a story.

No story. Back to bed.

Once upon a time there were three bears.

- Miss Josephine.

- Yes, Sophie.

There's company in the parlor for you.

Company? Who could it be, I wonder?

Surprise.

Are these your new stories?

They look creepier than

The Duke's Daughter.

- Can I read them, please?

- Yes, of course.

"The Place of the Coffin Tree...

"or The Secrets of a Guilty Heart...

"by Josephine March."

Amy, I've never been so surprised!

You're thin, Josephine.

- Amy, you look lovely.

- Aunt March bought me this coat.

- Do you like it?

- I love it. Sit down.

Tell me everything. Why are you here?

What kind of a place is this?

Why haven't you had supper?

Aunt March, nobody has supper

till 7:
00 in New York.

Tell me, now. When did you get to town?

An hour and five minutes ago,

and we're in a hurry.

We have to get to the shipping office

before it closes.

Shipping office?

Aunt March. Europe!

Yes, Jo, Europe.

I'm sailing tomorrow on the Britannia

and I'm taking Amy with me.

Maybe you can go the next time.

Amy, I'm glad for you.

I know I promised to take you,

but Amy and I get along famously.

And I never did get along with you.

It's all right, Aunt March.

I'm happy for Amy. It'll be thrilling for her.

Besides, I'm having a wonderful time...

theaters, operas, lectures...

I know Amy's a much better companion

than I could ever hope to be.

Tell me, how's Bethy, and Marmee,

and Meg, and Father?

They're all fine, except Beth.

She's not well, Jo.

My poor Beth.

She must get well. She must.

You know that Meg is expecting?

Dreadful, isn't it?

Yes, I knew she was. I think it's wonderful.

And how's Laurie?

Didn't you see him when he was here?

He and Mr. Laurence sailed

for Europe three weeks ago.

Laurie, in New York?

And he didn't come to see me?

You can't blame him

after the way you trotted off...

without so much as a goodbye.

Come, Amy.

We mustn't miss the shipping office.

Goodbye, Josephine.

Maybe the next time I go...

Goodbye.

I wish you were going.

I know how you've always longed to go.

No, darling. I'm perfectly contented here.

It's your reward.

You've always done sweet things

to please Aunt March.

Think of all the wonderful things

you're going to see:

The Turners, the Raphaels, the Leonardos...

Amy, you seem to forget

that hansom cabs cost money.

That's the trouble with people who never

had anything. Come easy, go easy.

- 'Bye, Josephine.

- Goodbye, Aunt March.

Goodbye, Amy.

- Write to me often.

- I will, Jo dear.

If I should see Laurie...

do you want me to give him

a message from you or anything?

Just tell him I love him, like a sister.

Do you really mean that, Jo?

And I wish he'd find a beautiful girl

and settle down.

- Goodbye, my darling Jo.

- Goodbye, little Amy.

Have a wonderful trip.

- Yes, Professor Bhaer?

- I have read your story in The Volcano.

I'd like to talk to you about it.

Will you please come in?

Yes. Thank you.

Sit down, won't you, Miss Josephine?

I have read your stories.

- Did you like them?

- I must be honest with you.

I was disappointed.

Why do you write

such artificial characters...

such contrived plots?

The Duke's Vengeance,

villains, murderers, fainting women...

Please. I am so sorry.

I didn't want to hurt you.

I want to help you.

What a blundering fool I am.

Don't pay any attention to me.

This has nothing to do with you.

It's just that everything happens at once.

And the rest doesn't matter so much.

I can bear that.

But Laurie...

I can never get over Laurie.

Your friend.

Something has happened to him?

Nothing happened to him, exactly.

Something's happened to me.

He came to New York,

and he didn't even come to see me.

What a fool he must have been.

No, it's my fault.

Only, I thought...

What does it matter what I thought?

I've made a mess of it,

as I do with everything.

But I tried. When I think of Aunt March

taking Amy to Europe...

when she always promised

she'd take me...

Not that I begrudge Amy the trip...

I suppose that's what I am doing.

The trip to Europe

you have so looked forward to.

That is a cruel disappointment.

I know.

And then, on top of it...

a stupid professor comes blundering

and makes things worse.

If I can't stand the truth,

I'm not worth anything.

I didn't think

those stories were very good.

The Duke's Daughter

paid the butcher bill...

and the Kiss of The Coventries

was the blessing of the Marches.

Yes, that is what I thought.

And then I said to myself,

"I maybe have no right to speak."

But then I said to myself,

"I maybe have no right not to speak...

"for you have talent."

- You really think so?

- Otherwise I would not say it.

You know that. And I say to you:

"Sweep mud in the street first,

before you are false to that talent."

Say it yourself,

"I will never write one single line...

"which I have not first felt

in my own heart."

Say to yourself:

"While I am young,

I will write the simple, beautiful things...

"I know and understand."

Will you do that, my little friend?

I'll try.

I'm going home.

- Home?

- It's where I belong.

They need me there. Beth is sick...

and I can help my family.

But then you will not be here.

I will not see you.

Whom will I go to the opera with?

Who will sew on my buttons...

when you are gone?

I may be back someday,

and I'll write you. Truly, I will.

You will write, but...

Go, Josephine. Go back to your home...

and write your stories

as you can write them.

And maybe someday, I will see you there...

in your home.

The winter's been so long.

I wish the spring would come.

You're back.

Marmee, it's so wonderful to be home.

The house has been empty without you.

My Beth.

I was wishing that spring would come, Jo,

and it has.

I have so many things to tell you,

very plummy, too.

And so many things to ask.

But presents first.

- This is for you, Bethy.

- Thank you, Jo.

It can accompany you while you play.

I don't play much now, Jo.

Not at all, really.

Where's Father?

In his study, dear.

He'll be so glad that you're home.

That's all, Jo.

Dr. Barnes says there's nothing we can do.

No, Father.

Not Beth.

These will be dark days for us, Jo.

For you, especially.

Now dry your eyes, my child, for her sake.

Don't let her see you cry.

Don't cry, Jo.

I don't want you to cry for me.

I'm not crying for you, darling.

I'm just lonesome for Meg and Amy...

and for our old happy times.

I guess the storm didn't help things either.

I'll be all right.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote