Vanity Fair Page #6

Captain Osborne.

Will you fetch me

my shawl and my nosegay?

Of course.

I wish you'd let me come with you.

No. I mean it. Go back at once.

I'll tell George you're safe.

Don't.

It will only annoy him

that I've left the ball early.

But why did he bring you at all?

Just tell me you're happy.

We're happy enough.

How prettily the Duchess

has arranged things.

She always does. Or don't you go

to her parties back in England?

No matter. We won't

know her back in London.

- I see you've been busy.

- Very.

Osborne.

Crawley.

Ready for a hand

or two of cards?

- If Mrs. Crawley...

- Of course.

I'll leave you to it, gentlemen.

- George, don't drink anymore.

- Nonsense, Dobbs.

Come and have a drink yourself,

and light up your lantern jaw.

What's happening?

Your Grace. My lords,

ladies and gentlemen.

The enemy is past the River Sambre

and our left is already engaged.

We march in three hours.

- Becky!

- Rawdon! Rawdon!

I'm not afraid, but I'm

a big target for a shot.

And if I should go down,

I want you to know what there is.

I've had a good run here,

so you've a wad of money.

There's a horse left to sell, and...

well, those trunks

are worth 30 alone.

You mean, we owe 30 on them.

Yes.

Well, I'll wear me old uniform,

so you can sell the new one.

What with the saddles,

guns, rings and...

and this little lot...

you'll have enough

to keep you dry,

get you back to London before...

I'll manage.

Won't you just.

There never was a woman

who could manage like you,

Becky Sharp.

You won't do anything brave, will you?

Promise?

What?

Tears?

Tears from my strong little Becky?

I'm a woman in love, aren't I?

Oh, my darling.

If you should awake

to find me dead...

Shh!

You must be sure, at least, of this:

That you are a woman

who has been truly loved.

S'il vous plat. Aidez-nous.

Somebody, please sell us a horse.!

Mrs. Crawley! Mrs. Crawley,

over here, if you please!

Lady Bareacres. What a surprise.

We sent our servant to the inn

to look for a horse,

but the only one left

is Captain Crawley's.

Fancy.

- What will you take for it?

- Nothing from you, my lady.

Don't be silly, my dear.

We've always been friends, haven't we?

- No. We have not.

- Now listen to me.

You can come with us if you wish,

but we must, and will, have that horse!

- Hmph!

- Why couldn't you be civil to the woman?

Mrs. Crawley.!

Mrs. Crawley, come back, please.!

Mrs. Crawley.! Discretion

being the better part of valor,

- I'm afraid it is time to quit Brussels.

- Are we really losing, Lord Darlington?

They say the enemy

has broken through the lines.

Which brings me to my point.

Did you sell Lady Bareacres your horse?

Doesn't anyone love me for myself alone?

You may buy it if you give me

a seat in your carriage.

- Done.

- Quickly! We must get it.

- Why must she come with us?

- First, because I like her.

Second, she's pregnant.

Third, it's the condition

upon which she gave us the horse.

Mrs. Crawley, hurry!

We must leave now!

Now! Please!

Please.! Help me.!

Has anyone seen George Osborne?

One moment.

George Osborne of the Ninth.!

Please.!

Amelia! What are you doing?

You shouldn't be out here!

Come along.

Mrs. Crawley.!

Come now, if you're coming.!

Lord Darlington, is there

room for Mrs. Osborne?

Only if you give up your place.

Don't worry about me. I'll wait

here for George, whatever comes.

We'll meet again in London.

Well, I do hope so.

Good luck to you.

Drive! Drive!

There must be news of my George!

Amelia, you must

take hold of yourself!

We're soldier's wives.

We live with uncertainty.

How would you feel if

you had spent last night alone...

while your husband danced

with another woman?

If you have stolen his last evening

from me, I shall never forgive you!

How could you say such a thing?

I won't listen to it.

If you must hear the truth,

your George is not...

What?

My George is not what?

Is not the man to see you risk

your health... or his baby.

Come inside,

and we'll wait together.

What would Miss Pinkerton

say of us now?

Two mothers-to-be

in the midst of a war.

Not quite what we studied

in etiquette class.

Are you frightened?

Of giving birth, I mean.

Hmm. You know me.

I'm tough as a nut.

I'll probably have my baby after tea and

then dance at a ball the same evening.

I'm not frightened, either.

At least, not for myself.

As long as George's child is well.

It's the bagpipes.

- But... that means...

- Victory.

Victory!

"My dearest father,

though we parted in anger,

I want you to know I will not disgrace

you in the challenge that lies ahead. '"

Mr. Osborne. Mr. Osborne.

Captain Dobbin.

Rather, I beg your pardon, Major Dobbin,

since better men than you are dead...

and you've stepped

into their shoes.

Better men are dead.

I wish to speak of one.

Make it short, sir.

You are aware his widow

has been left a pauper.

I do not know his widow.

Nor wish to.

And what of his child?

Will you not wish to know that?

It's just another consequence

of George's disobedience and folly.

She would have me give you this.

If it's a message from that woman,

I do not wish to read it.

It is a message from your son, sir.

She has carried it for you

from that day to this.

"Forgive me if you can.

"And try to remember

your loving and grateful son.

George. '"

Georgy!

My boy!

My darling boy!

- Isn't he an angel?

- An angel.

When George died I thought,

I will never have room in my heart

for anyone else.

We weren't expecting you today.

I've come to tell you

I've put in for a transfer.

- I embark next week for Bombay.

- Bombay?

Heavens. Why Bombay?

Because it is as far away

from here as I could manage.

I see.

But I will resign my commission,

and I will stay in England...

- if you ask me to.

- If I ask you to?

I will not go if you tell me not to.

You must seeJos

when you get there.

I can write to you?

Tell you how Georgy is doing?

William, l...

l...

The agents will forward any letters.

Well, good-bye.

We'll meet again one day.

Good-bye.

This one here stays.

Come, come, Rawdy.

This is your new home!

Scullery, dining room,

boudoir.

Oh!

I'm sorry to be the bearer

of sad tidings, Colonel.

You know how I esteemed your aunt.

There was no suffering.

Mr. Pitt and LadyJane looked

after her tenderly until the end.

I'll bet they did.

Right. Let me know if there's

anything more I can do for you.

She cut me out.

Pitt has swept the pool.

Oh, Becky,

it's you and Rawdy

I feel sorry for.

Don't.

It'll come right. You'll see.

I'm a governess, and you're a gambler.

We were never going to shoot into society.

It'll take time.

What will we eat in the meantime?

Oh, my dear, let me manage that.

We're Crawleys,

and Crawleys have credit.

You'll be surprised to see how well

we can live on practically nothing a year.

Excuse me, ma'am. Master Rawdy

has something to show you.

What is it, Nurse?

Walking.!

Walking.!

Well, if those aren't

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