Vanity Fair Page #7

the stoutest steps...

I've ever seen a young man take.

Why, you'll be marching

to the colors in no time, my boy.

- Come!

- Yes!

Ya-ha! Rawdy!

How are you today, my boy? Huh?

Fine, sir.

Good. Here we go.

- Yes?

- Are you a soldier, sir?

Yes, my boy. I am.

My papa was a soldier, sir.

He fell at Waterloo.

I'm sorry to hear that.

What was his name?

Captain George Osborne,

sir, of the Ninth.

Oh, but I knew him well.

Stop!

What's the matter with you?

Nothing.

Oh, for heaven's sake, Maria.

Out with it.

It's just that I was driving in

the park the other day, and...

And?

And, and, and, and, and?

Father. I saw little George.

He was with Mr. Sedley,

and I knew him at once.

He's as beautiful as an angel.

And... And so like him.

Dash it, Becky.

Is this really the best we can manage?

There's my desk. Here's the key.

If you can find a spare penny piece

in it, I'll take my hat off to you.

Unless you mean for once

to make a contribution.

The whole animal

was made of scrag end!

If only the butcher didn't want

to be paid. How can he be so selfish?

Don't be hard on me, old girl.

I've had a run ofbad luck.

Things'll get better.

That Mr. Moss is here.

I've brought him up.

Take him back down again,

damn you. Until we've finished eating!

- Rawdon, please.

- Needs must, Colonel.

And I hope you've got

good news for me.

I'm sorry, Mr. Moss,

but we're not magicians.

We can't give you the money

if we haven't got it.

Why not? You can spend it

when you haven't got it.

Oh, you're wasted as a bailiff.

You should write for the stage.

And you should go on it.

You're a good enough actress.

That is enough! We cannot pay it,

and there it is. Now get out.

All right, I'll go.

But I'll be back.

Clear the way there!

Get out of the way!

Is this really your home then?

Yes, it is.

How is such a thing possible?

What do you want with me, sir?

I have a proposal to put to you.

Why do you do that, Mama?

It is so degrading.

I do it so we can eat.

Hunger is degrading too.

That is our food, Georgy!

It is not a toy!

I hate our food.

And I have no toys.

None that I want anyway.

How can you be so cruel?

Cruel?

When he might have had

the finest education money could buy.

When he could have been

as rich as a lord.

And his own mother

steals his future...

because she wants to

tuck him up in bed.

"A mother's love is worth

more than palaces in Mayfair."

Do you not remember

what Major Dobbin wrote?

- Pray don't talk about Major Dobbin.

- Why not?

What's the point,

now he's engaged?

What?

Oh, didn't you read Joseph's letter?

"How are you, my dear Amelia?

"And how is all your little family?

"If you did but know how brightly

your image burns for me...

"and how I dream of you

and Georgy hand-in-hand.

"Every detail of your daily life

is precious to me...

as I sit and write

beneath the Indian sun. '"

"Dear William.

"Thank you for your letter which took

three months to reach me... Mother?

But was very welcome when it did. '"

Mother, what are you doing here?

I was coming to see you on Saturday.

"Georgy is in good health...

I made Georgy some shirts.

And living with his grandfather. '"

I was going to leave them for him.

Oh, Mother. I couldn't wear

your funny old shirts now.

Good day to you, madam.

Come along, Georgy.

You are silly, Mama.

- Silly old Mama!

- "I am persuaded it is better.

So, for his sake, I must submit. '"

Listen, Dobbs, if you'd rather

leave it for some other time,

I can easily find someone else.

No. No, no, I'm coming.

"I confess it was with quite a pang that I

read Joseph's news of your engagement. '"

What?

Dobbs, I can't breathe!

Good Lord, Dobbs.

Have you lost your mind altogether?

It's time I returned to England.

Here's your medicine, Sir Pitt.

Take it away. There's no medicine

can cure what ails me.

I'm dying, Horrocks.

This is the end.

Oh, come, Sir Pitt.

Shall I fetch Mr. Pitt?

Or the doctor?

Or the lawyer?

That's the question, Horrocks.

Pitt's had Tilly's money.

Shall he have mine too?

Or should it go to Rawdon? Hmm?

And foxy little Becky?

I can fetch the lawyer

if you want me to, sir.

Uh? Oh, no.

No. Let Pitt have it all. Yeah.

He's a pompous beggar,

but he'll keep

this old place together.

And your piano practice?

I hope you've not been neglecting it.

No, Miss... I mean Mrs. Crawley.

I'm glad to hear it.

You must play for me.

And, Rose,

what is your best subject?

French.

No airs. No bid to bury

her governess's past.

You cannot dislike her for that, surely?

No. I agree.

Not for that.

Uh, Rawdon, after luncheon,

perhaps you'd like to see my pamphlet

on the emancipation issue?

Oh, God, help me.

Uh, Mrs., uh, Crawley,

when you told Miss Crawley

that your mother

was a Montmorency...

I never said that. I spoke once

of the Montmorencys, but that's all.

She must have misunderstood me.

My mother sang opera.

- Mm.

- Mm-hmm.

What shall we do after luncheon?

Well, we are in mourning.

Uh, uh, yes.

Y-You are right to say so,

but I don't think my father's death

should banish all social converse.

Then what I should like to do best

would be to play something

with our little boys.

Little Pitt has not been well.

W-Well, I gave Little Pitt

some tonic before lunch.

- I remember how your medicines

helped poor Miss Crawley.

- Mm.

Well...

L... We...

We're all, uh, family here,

so l-I feel we may speak openly.

L- I hope, um, Aunt Matilda's

final disposition...

h-h-has not...

Miss Crawley gave me the most

wonderful husband in the world.

How could I be angry with her?

I'm glad her fortune will restore

the glory of this place and this family,

of which I'm proud to be a member.

Ohh.

It is we Crawleys, madam,

who are the gainers by your marriage.

- Thank you.

- Mm.

Bye, Rawdy!

Bye, Auntie Becky.!

Bye, Uncle Rawdon.! Bye.!

I like AuntJane.

Don't you, Papa?

I do. Pitt's lucky there.

She's kind and good.

I could be good on 5,000 a year.

Oh, do you not care for her, then?

What does that matter?

Don't you see what this means?

We're back in the family.

At long last we've begun.

Careful of that table now.

That's valuable, that is.

Excuse me!

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

I told you I'd be back, lady.

Here, look, you'd better wrap up

that cooker glass.

No! How dare you try and bring out

my things on the street!

Here, let me have that!

I'll call the constable!

You can call the King for all I care!

Give it back to me!

I'm takin' it!

You're not having this!

Give it to me!

I wonder if I might be of some help.

A pleasure doing business.

Just go.

We meet at last.

I know you, Lord Steyne,

you do not know me.

You will have forgotten, but you were

kind to my father once, many years ago.

I am seldom praised for...

for being kind.

What was his name?

Francis Sharp.

You are Francis Sharp's daughter?

He had a great talent

for painting, as I recall,

and none at all for life.

I'm attempting to redress that balance.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes