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Nicholas Nickleby (2002).CD1

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Nicholas Nickleby
Synced By|-= zBuv =-
What happens when the light first pierces...
the dark dampness|in which we have waited?
We are slapped and cut loose.
If we are lucky,|someone is there to catch us...
and persuade us that we are safe.
But are we safe?
What happens if, too early,|we lose a parent?
That party on whom we rely|for only everything?
Why, we are cut loose again...
and we wonder, even dread...
whose hands will catch us now.
There once lived a man|named Nicholas Nickleby.
Unambitious in business...
he devoted himself|to the happiness of his family.
But he is not the Nicholas Nickleby|you have come to hear about.
That Nicholas Nickleby is here.
And here.
And here.
- Said your prayers?|- Yes.
I prayed that I should have this day...
the same day we had today,|all the rest of my life.
But someday you will find someone|who will have...
a greater hold on your affections than I do.
The most important journey of your life...
will be to find her.
Nicholas had a younger sister, Kate.
Here she is again.
And here.
Goodness, how it goes.
For their father,|these children were a divine burden.
Never had money meant less to him...
and never had he needed it more.
His wife said:
Since it was well known|that Mr. Nickleby's brother, Ralph...
many years his senior...
had made his fortune in London|by just this method...
so Nicholas Nickleby,|who had never speculated...
It is a particular sort of triumph...
that bankers|have made the word "speculation"...
synonymous with "adventure"...
when, indeed, it means only|that one may gain a great deal...
or one may lose a great deal.
Alas, for Mr. Nickleby, it meant the latter.
Four stockbrokers|took villa residences in Italy...
and 400 nobodies were ruined.
Eliminating all he had saved...
as well as any wish to earn it again...
Mr. Nickleby took to his bed...
until he surrendered|to the one certainty of life...
which no amount of speculation|can prevent.
What shall we do?
Here is Nicholas Nickleby again.
19 years old...
and head of his family.
Come here.
Said he would join me at the tavern.
Turnips and carrots!
Mind your back, miss.
Please, Mr. Nickleby, do you wish my father|to go to debtor's prison?
Where your father sleeps, Miss Bray,|is of no concern to me.
Father tells me the interest|is what makes the debt so unmanageable.
- Could you not stop it?|- Tell him...
to repay the loan.|That will stop the interest right away.
You must bear up against sorrow, ma'am.
I always do.
Mine was no common loss.
It was no uncommon loss.
Husbands die every day.
And wives.
Brothers also.
Yes, and puppies, too.
Ma'am, you did not mention|what my brother's complaint was.
We feel he died of a broken heart.
Pooh, there's no such thing.
Indeed, if you have no heart to break.
In your letter, you said|the creditors had administered...
and nothing was left for you?
We tried to sell the house...
but no one seemed to want|a little home like ours.
So you spent what little remained|coming all the way to London...
to see what I could do for you?
It was your brother's dying wish...
that you might do something|for his children.
How is it, when a man dies|without property of his own...
he thinks he has the right|to dispose of others'?
What a feckless, inconsiderate man.
Our father, your brother, had a noble heart.
Which beats no more.
You, girl...
you haven't been brought up|too delicately...
to apprentice at some boarding school,|have you?
I will try to do anything|to gain me a home and bread.
Now that I think of it, I know a dressmaker|who may have some work.
You, boy, have you ever done anything?
Noggs, where's the morning paper|I left on my desk?
- On my desk.|- Bring it to me.
"Bring it to me."
Stop parroting me.
I wish I was a parrot. I'd fly away.
I wish you were a parrot, too.|I'd wring your neck.
- Read that.|- What is it, Nicholas?
An advertisement.
"Education at|Mr. Wackford Squeers' Academy."
Oh, no.
"Dotheboys Hall, at the delightful village|of Dotheboys, in Yorkshire.
"Youth are clothed, boarded and booked...
"instructed in all languages,|living and dead...
"mathematics, orthography,|the use of globes and single stick.
"Diet unparalleled.|An able assistant wanted.
"Annual salary £5.
"Master of Arts preferred."
I'm not a Master of Arts.
That can be got over, I believe.
But it is such a long way off.
If I am fortunate enough to be appointed,|what will become of those I leave behind?
It will be my immediate care|to place your mother and sister...
in some sphere of life|in which they may become independent.
I will not forget what you have done|for me this day, Uncle.
Nor shall I.
Any chimneys to sweep?
There he is. He's the man with one eye.
Though the popular prejudice|runs in favor of two.
- Is this one inch milk and the rest water?|- Aye, sir.
Here's richness.
When I say "one," you may take a drink.
When I say "number two,"|the boy next to you may take it...
and so on, till all five boys|have been nourished.
But work fast.|We leave when the coach horn blows.
Number one.
Number two.
Number three.
Number four.
Number five.
Out you go.
Subdue your appetites,|and you've conquered human nature.
Yorkshire coach leaves in five minutes!
Wait by the coach in a straight line.
Squeers, this is the boy I told you about.|My nephew.
I am most grateful for the opportunity|to serve, sir.
- Mr. Squeers.|- Mrs. Shaygar.
Could you give those to Henry?|Tuesday is his birthday.
Delighted, my dear.|The boy's happiness is our prime concern.
Three inside, two little ones up top.
Get up behind. If a boy drops off the back,|that's £20 a year lost.
If he is the schoolmaster,|what kind of school can it be?
I hardly know.
Bless you both.
Someday, we will once again|share the protection of the same roof...
and revive the happiness denied to us now.
I promise.
Young man.
Forgive me. I know the world.
Your father didn't...
or he wouldn't have done me a kindness|without hope of a return.
You don't, or you wouldn't be bound|on such a journey.
If ever you should need help|or shelter in London...
Oh, dear. I once thought I never should.
They know where I live,|at the Sign of the Crown in Golden Square.
You can come at night.
- Once, nobody was ashamed.|- Ashamed?
Where are you, Nickleby? Up.
If you should go near Barnard Castle,|there's good ale at the King's Head.
Say you know me,|and I'm sure they won't charge you for it.
you may say "Mr. Noggs" there...
for I was a gentleman then.
I was.
- Walk on.|- Goodbye, Nicholas.
Is this Dotheboys Hall?
No need to call it a hall up here.
We call it that in London,|because it sounds better.
Hurry, lad!
Where the devil were you?
Please, sir...
I fell asleep over the fire.
Missus said I might go in there for a warm.
You'd have been a deuced deal|more wakeful out in the cold.
Is that my Squeery?
The crime of my dead eye, my love...
is that I can't see you twice.
- How's the pig?|- Just as you left her.
And the boys?
Young Braithwaite's had a fever.
Third time this year.
I say it's obstinacy,|and we beat it out of him.
No one can cure an illness|quicker than you, my love.
This is the new man, Mr. Nickleby.
- I hope you're not hungry.|- I am.
Of course you are.
I've got a nice hot stew|for you here, Squeery.
And there's bread on the table.
I brought the letters to the boys,|I'll read them in the morning.
- I'm doing the brimstone first.|- Of course you are.
Grand piece of meat in that, Squeery.|Put the heat back in you.
Aye, it will.
- How was your journey, my pet?|- Dreadful.
- Was it perishing?|- Torture.
Have you...
Did anybody...
Has nothing been heard...
about me?
Not a word, and never will we.
But count your blessings.|You've been here all these years...
and not a penny paid after the first six.
No clue as to who you belong to,|and still I feed you.
That's cause for joy.
And here's more cause for joy.
Little Wackford.
Look what your pa brought you.
"Dear Kate...
"My first morning here began with the news|that the pump had frozen...
"but events soon distracted me. "
- Smike!|- Who are you after?
It's brimstone morning,|and I can't find the school spoon.
We purify the boys' blood|now and then, Nickleby.
Purify, fiddlesticks!
We give the boys brimstone and treacle,|Mr. Knuckleboy...
because if we didn't,|they'd always be ailing.
It spoils their appetites and comes cheaper|than breakfast and dinner.
You might say it does them good|and us good at the same time.
- Where's the school spoon?|- Please, ma'am.
Don't contradict your mistress.
Take it.
Take it. Be thankful.
A most invaluable woman that.|I don't know her equal.
Nor I.
- No, please!|- Take it.
And thank me for it.
She does things for them boys...
that I don't believe half the mothers going|would do for their own sons.
- I should think they would not, sir.|- No.
"Mr. Squeers' return from London|is a great event...
"as he brings the boys news from home. "
Bolder, come here.
No letters.
But I saw your father in London.
He was £2.10 short in his payments.
two, three...
- Four...|- Five, six.
But the good news is, we'll keep you on.|Smike, take him out.
Letter for Cobbey. Stand up.
Your grandmother's dead.
Your uncle's took to drink.
That's all the news your sister sends,|except for eight pence...
which will just cover the square of glass|you broke last week.
"After this, classes began. "
Where's Graymarsh?
Please, sir, he's cleaning|the back parlor window.
Perfect. C-L-E-A-N, "clean."
Verb, active, "to make bright."
"Winder," a casement.
"Win": W-l-N, "der": D-E-R.
When the boy knows this,|he goes and does it.
Where's Dorn?
- Please, sir, he's weeding the garden.|- To be sure.
"Bot": B-O-T, "tin": T-l-N, "ney": N-E-Y.
"Bottiney." Noun, substantive.
Knowledge of plants,|which he's applying right now.
That's our system, Nickleby.|What do you think of it?
It's useful.
"And so went the day.
"I very much hope I can be of service here. "
Are you cold?
You're shivering, poor fellow.
Oh, dear, my heart.
I feel lost here, too.
But we must always hope.
Do you remember the boy who died here?
I was not here.
What of him?
I was with him that night.
He began to see faces around his bed|that came from home.
He said they smiled and talked to him.
At last, he died...
lifting his head to kiss them.
What faces will smile on me when I die?
Who will comfort me that long night?
They cannot come from home.
They would frighten me if they did,|for I shouldn't know them.
There is no hope.
- No hope for me at all!|- What's the matter, love?
Tilda's getting married to John Browdie.
I'll be the only girl in the county|who hasn't posted my banns.
John Browdie's no catch. I hate him.
Eat your breakfast.
I'll never eat again.
How do you like Mr. Knuckleboy?
I hate him, that's how I like him.
He's a nasty, stuck-up monkey.
He needs his pride brought down.
I'll leave that to you, my love.|There's not a woman in all England...
can bring a person's pride down|quicker than you can.
Thank you, Squeery.
Who's Mr. Knuckleboy?
The new teacher.
A smile like a sugar-drop,|and the straightest legs I've ever seen.
The word for "window"...
- Is "fenÍtre", F-E-N-E...|- Oh, father.
I beg your pardon.|I thought my father was here.
- I'm so foolish, I'm sure.|- Not at all.
Again, the word for "window" is "fenÍtre."
I'm sure I am foolish.
It's just my pen is in need of...
May I be of service?
No, I just couldn't.
All right.
- What is it, Fanny?|- I am engaged!
To whom?
- To the new schoolteacher.|- The speed of it!
What's he said?
We don't need language.|If you could have only seen his looks.
Did he look at you like this?
If he did, you're engaged.|That's how John looked at me.
Hope it was better than that.|Thee'd have run to the hills.
Hush, John! So, when is the day?
We just need a final declaration to settle it...
but he's shy in the way of words.
Fanny, I'm so happy for you.
Have you read The Pilgrim's Progress?
"The Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan.
"As I walked through the wilderness|of this world, I lighted on a certain"...
What do you think you're doing?
Get on with your work!
Don't give me that high-and-mighty look.
He don't pay.
Therefore, he works.
Quick, I must do something|to engage his sympathy...
and bring him to the declaration.|Should I choke?
I think fainting might be more romantic|than choking.
Mr. Nickleby, help!
- What's happened?|- I think she was undone by your coldness.
Was I abrupt?|My mind, I'm afraid, was on other matters.
I'm sure it wasn't deliberate.
It's just that with all the feelings|so nearly expressed between you of late...
If I caused any distress,|I reproach myself most bitterly, but...
This is most awkward, but...
- Does your friend think I'm in love with her?|- Does she think so? Of course.
But I've made no such declaration.
Your eyes said what your mouth could not.
Perhaps my mouth should say|what my eyes have not.
I have scarcely seen the young lady|three times...
but should I have seen her 30 or 30,000,|it would be the same.
I have not one thought,|hope or wish connected with her...
unless it be part of the picture|I keep in my mind...
of one day being able to turn my back|upon this accursed place...
and never to think of it again|with any feeling but loathing and disgust.
Refused by a teacher...
picked up by an advertisement.
He's insulted not just you,|but the whole house of Squeers.
He's proud. I said so from the start.
He must be wounded.
I hate him like poison!
Where is Smike? We need wood.
He's with Mr. Nickleby.|He waits on him hand and foot.
He must not have enough to do.
We must think of how better|to occupy our Smike.
They are so hard on me.
But for you...
they would kill me.
I fear they may be killing you because of me.
You will do better when I am gone.
Are you going?
I would go tomorrow if I could.
Tell me...
is the world as bad as this place?
Oh, no.
Should I ever meet you there?
- Why, yes, I'm sure at some...|- No.
Tell me.
Tell me that I should be sure to find you.
You would.
And I would help you and aid you...
and not bring fresh sorrow on you,|as I have done here.
He is not here, sir!
Show yourself!
Who knows where he is?
Please, sir, I think he's run away.
And what possible reason|would any boy have...
to run away from my establishment?
Do you think he's run away?
I hope so!
we best go find him.
But if you lift one finger...
to stop what's about to begin...
you and I will fall out in a way...
that will spoil your beauty.
Take pattern by Smike if you dare, boys!
You'll see what he'll get for hisself|when he's brought back.
For brought back he will be.
You go the north way, Squeery,|I'll take the west.
Mr. Squeers!
I beg you, forgive the boy!|He is not in his right mind.
That will soon be the least of his problems.
Father, please don't let them find him.
If they do, let him be dead...
his last breath a free one.
Does he have him? Is it Smike?
Is she back with him?
Then you do not have him.
Thank God.
We have him!
Is every boy here?
Get back!
And you.
Have you anything to say?
Please, sir, spare me.
I'll spare you.
I'll flog you to within an inch of your life,|and I'll spare you then.
This must not go on.
I will not allow it.
You dare to challenge my authority!
Stay back!
Touch him at your peril!
I will not stand by and see it done.
You will do as you're told!
If you raise the devil within me, the|consequences shall fall on your own head!
Once I begin, God help you!
No, please, wait!
I do not know why,|but I am going to show you...
what you have never shown any boy|in this room.
Wait. I say, wait!
I've come from the schoolhouse.
Mr. Squeers says he was attacked.|Beaten, and nearly senseless.
When he said it was thee who did it,|I knew thee must not be allowed to leave...
We will not be stopped!
...without my shaking your hand,|and saying to thee, "Job well done."
Give us thee hand, will you?
Whoever heard the like of it?
I only wish...
I could've been there to see it myself.
What do thee mean to do now?
- I don't know.|- How much cash has thee got?
- Not much. But I'll find...|- Take what you need.
- I could not.|- Please.
Every boy in that room|would add to it if he could.
Thank you.
Here, and take this bit of timber, too,|to help thee on.
You keep a good heart.
God bless thee!
Beating the schoolmaster!
God, it's the best thing|I've heard in 20 years.
where will you go?
Perhaps to Liverpool.
I could find work on a ship.
Do not be anxious.
Before I do anything,|I will get you to your home.
Where is it?
You are my home.
Please, may I go with you to the sea?
I will be your faithful,|hard-working servant. I will.
I promise I will.
I want only to be near you.
The word which separates us|shall never be said by me.
And I promise you, from this night forward...
the world shall deal by you as it does by me.
Do you have a family...
or are you alone, as I am?
I have a mother and a sister.
Dear God!
If he has sent me here,|what has he done to Kate?
I'm grateful that you came.
It is a boon to a single man...
to have such a lady as yourself|for my hostess.
I know little of how these things|are done in London.
Surely one of the other ladies|would be more adept.
You are the only lady present.
By the time I was finished,|she couldn't escape.
Have you thought about the investment|I brought you?
It has its merits and its risks.
You know, Nickleby, I've noticed|you never seem to touch your wine...
while we drink and drink.
I like to keep a clear head.
Yet you pour us so much.
I must say, it is a pleasure|having your niece with us.
He must have designed that, too,|to soften you into speculating.
If I could see someone|as winning as Miss Nickleby...
when I talk business with her uncle...
I can think of no other place|I'd rather talk business.
No other place on Earth.
Hear, hear!
Gentlemen, I feel|we are boring Miss Nickleby.
Look, she can barely raise her eyes.
The poor dear girl simply cannot understand|why no one here is making love to her.
She gasps! I have uncovered her secret.
You misunderstand me.
In fact, I'll hold any man £50...
that Miss Nickleby can't look in my face|and tell me that she wasn't thinking so.
Pray, do not make me the subject of bets.
Uncle, please!
Why not, if the gentlemen insist?
It's a minute's work.
Just lift your eyes and tell me that|you're not hoping I would make love to you.
Get your money ready, gentlemen.
She's not going to say it,|because she wants me to make love to her.
Can you, girl?
Can you say that you don't wish me|to make love to you?
Hush, my dear.
Don't mind it, now.
Then let me go.
Let me leave this place.
You must dry your eyes first.
Let me raise your head.
what have I done|that you should subject me to this?
I didn't know it would be so.
Can you remember|when you first came to Mr. Squeers'?
Surely you did not|find your way there alone?
I could not have.
I was brought by a small, withered man.
I was afraid of him.
But then they made me more afraid of them.
Tremendous. Positively tremendous.
That'll be a double encore|if you take care, boys!
Don't you concur?|Was that not the very picture of excitement?
It was very good.
- Although...|- Although?
They might be better matched|in terms of size.
How are you to get up the sympathies|of the audience...
if there isn't a little man|contending against a bigger one?
I confess, I had not considered that.
We have had a long day's walk|without much...
Without much?
Dear me.
Let it never be said|that any man went hungry here or here...
when he was with Vincent Crummles.
Boys, set the table at once!
We shall adjourn to the dining room.
My friend and I|shall try for a berth on a ship.
Does no other profession suggest itself|to a young man of your figure and bearing?
- I think the sea offers a great many...|- What about the stage?
- The stage?|- The theatrical profession!
I am in the theatrical profession myself.|My wife is in the theatrical profession.
My children are in the theatrical profession.
I had a dog that lived and died in it...
and the pony that pulled us here today|is third generation.
His mother could fire a pistol...
and get in bed wearing a nightcap.
there is tragedy in the family.
- In the pony's family?|- Yes.
The father drank.
Ended up in the circus...
drinking port wine with the clowns.
Got greedy, couldn't quit...
and choked on the bottle.
At any rate, I'd love|to bring you and your friend out.
He has a capital countenance!
Why, as he is now...
he would make such an apothecary|in Romeo and Juliet...
that he would be certain|of three rounds of applause...
the minute he put his face|out of the practicable door!
- And you!|- Me?
- You were born for the lamps!|- No, sir, I think...
You could be useful in a hundred ways.|You could write plays!
I dare say, I could scribble something,|now and then.
Whatever you write, please include a pump|and two washing tubs.
I just bought them at a sale.
Could I live by such a trade?
Like a prince!|With your own salary, and your friend's...
and your writing, you could make £1 a week!
With a good run of houses, double that.
Then I accept, and happily!
Arise, young man.
You've been transformed!
You went to sleep a wretch...
you awake an actor!
- Mrs. C, could I have a word?|- What is it now, Mr. Folair?
About my roar.
There are two options available to you.|A rugged...
My dear.
I've made another discovery.
Messieurs Nickleby and Smike,|may I present Mrs. Crummles.
Welcome to our family of players!
We were just about to rehearse|the climax of our drama.
Will you watch with us...
and feel with us?
Ladies and gentlemen, places, please.
I must warn you,|Folair has been hopeless today!
Play the terror, but don't lose the joy!
Your trap!
Mr. Folair, shut your trap!
Somebody forgot his spear.
The flames! And remember, they're hot!
Oh, dear, it's almost too real!
Remember, Mr. Folair, you are a savage...
not a demented fairy!
Don't lose your theatricality!
Ninetta, dear, would you move|that flower to your other hand?
Mr. Folair, there's a problem with your head!
Thrilling in the extreme!
this is Miss Ninetta Crummles...
the Infant Phenomenon.
How old is she?
She is 10 years of age, sir.
Not more?
Not a day.
- My dear?|- Yes?
It is of the utmost that I speak to you|about a great struggle...
which is taking place outside|this mortal temple we call the theater.
The contestants are|those aged combatants...
and commerce.
And art, it would appear from the receipts...
is in its usual position of jeopardy.
Might you and I have a word, ŗ deux?
"Infant Phenomenon!"|"Infant humbug" is more to the point!
She has been 10 for the past 8 years!
They keep her on a diet of gin and water|to hold back her growth.
- You don't say!|- I do say, sir. I do!
That hammy sprawler keeps the rest of us|from doing our specialties.
Mine is the Highland Fling.
Would you like to see it?
Ladies and gentlemen...
based on the receipts|Mrs. Crummles has shown me...
Liverpool has little relish...
for high-minded theatrical entertainments|properly conducted.
We must give them our pity.
Now, we must give them something|they will pay to see.
Romeo and Juliet.
But we have no Romeo.|Mr. Leadville's leg is broke.
I don't mind! I can manage!
Old friend...
it may be time|for you to move on from Romeo.
Move on?
To what?
Mr. Nickleby will take that part.
And do you not think his friend|would make a smashing apothecary?
His face practically erupts with drama!
What an acquisition!
These speeches! Listen to this.
"Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand...
"that I might touch that cheek."
Are you worried|about how to memorize so much?
I am, and I have barely a word to say!
It is not only that...
but a desire to know someone|to whom I could say such things.
My father told me that the great journey|of my life would be to find such a person...
but I'm nearly 20 years of age,|and I fear he may be wrong.
- I hope not.|- I hope not, too.
May I ask you why you were so upset seeing|that savage come through the trapdoor?
You asked me yesterday if I had a memory|about my life before Yorkshire.
There is but one thing I remember.
It was the room in which I was kept.
It was a lonesome room|at the top of a house.
There was a large black hook|that hung down from the ceiling.
Underneath it was a trapdoor.
I was so afraid of what might be|on the other side...
that there was not a single night|I did not cover my head in the bedclothes.
So today, when a door so very like it|opened in the dark before me...
I could not watch what came out of it.
Carry on.
We have fallen on strange times.
but wondrous strange.
- What's come then?|- I have.
- What else?|- A letter, marked:
"Urgent, as well as extremely important."
It's from the Squeers.
Doubtful. It's perfumed.
"Dear Mr. Knuckleboy, sir.
"My pa requests me to write to you.
"The doctor's considering it doubtful...
"whether he will ever recover|the use of his legs...
"which prevents his holding a pen.
"He was brought to this state|by your nephew...
"who jumped upon my pa's body|with his feet...
"and dashed him to the earth."
"Dashed him to the earth."|Very nice, my dear!
"He also attacked him with language...
"which I will not pollute my pen|with describing.
"He assaulted my ma...
"by driving her back-comb several inches|into her head.
"We have a medical certificate that says,|if the comb had entered her skull...
"the tortoiseshell|might have affected her brain.
"The monster then ran away...
"taking with him a boy|of desperate character...
"as well as a garnet ring|belonging to my nearly dead ma.
"Would you please send us money|compensating for its loss...
"in the amount of 22..."
- 4.|- 8.
"Remain yours, etc., Fanny Squeers."
The boy has crossed me.
- I did not expect otherwise.|- He's written as well.
Pride, obstinacy.
A reputation for fine feelings|are all against it.
He's gone to Liverpool.
Taken some employment.
Otherwise it's all excuses.
I predict he soon will be on some ship.
forgive me. I have been remiss|in my attentions to you and your mother.
I came to enquire whether you and she|would accompany me to the theater...
on Friday evening?
That is most kind of you, Uncle.
Very well.
I shall call for you.
She has accepted.
I have a genuine interest in Shakespeare...
especially after having been|to that dear little dull house he was born in.
How fascinating. May I?
Nickleby? Is that you?
Nickleby, are you all alone?
What luck!
The drama begins.
Her eyes in heaven...
would through the airy region|stream so bright...
that birds would sing,|and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek|upon her hand.
Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand...
that I might touch that cheek!
Ay, me!
I should like to be your glove...
as much to touch your cheek...
as to grip your fingers.
- Don't hurry.|- Please do not detain me.
Now, why do you keep up|this show of displeasure?
Show? Nothing could be more sincerely felt.
Indeed, you're prettier|when you are in a passion.
I wish my brother were here. He'd be in a|passion from which you'd not soon recover.
Linger with me just a moment|as they extinguish the lights.
I will not.
- Will you deny me everything I want?|- Lf everything you want is wrong.
Please, let me rejoin my family.|My mother will be anxious.
Your mother, child, is already anxious|that you should find a proper prospect.
I would hazard that she is delighted|we are by ourselves...
and I imagine the longer we are gone,|the less anxious she will be.
Do not mock me.|You do not consider me a prospect...
but a plaything, and I consider you neither.
To treat me this way in a public place|could ruin my reputation.
And every chance for a decent|and loving marriage will be gone.
If it's privacy you want, let me give it to you.|But I'll have what I want and wait no more.
I have a genuine interest in Shakespeare.
Mother, may we go?
It was delightful to see you.
- Mother, please.|- Is something wrong?
I have been wounded past all healing...
and by your friends.
What can you mean? I have no friends.
If they are not your friends, then more|shame on you for bringing me among them.
I see you have|some of the boy's blood in you.
I hope I have.
I should be proud.
You know what happened under this roof.
Last night was far worse.
You have influence with these men.
One word from you would induce|them to desist.
What of it if an old man whispers|inanities in your ear on Monday?
Some other novelty|will spring up on Tuesday.
In the meantime, you must be practical.
The money that allows me|to help you and your mother...
in some portion comes from these men.
I am grateful|for all that you have done for us...
but do not mistake me.
I am not a toy.
I will live with dignity.
If that means...
that I must set up my mother|and myself on our own...
and hide myself from your friends...
I will do so...
knowing God will help us,|even if you will not.
If the boy drowns, or is lost at sea...
this house could be hers.
How pretty she would make it.
Dear girl, here. Take this.
But I am not crying.
The handkerchief's for me.|The arm's for you.
To hear you speak so bravely|and not give way before him...
My admiration moves me to this.|Your brother, he'd be so proud.
That's right, yes. Give way now.
You're not alone. I'll see you soon.|And so shall someone else.
God bless you.
Again. "What ho! Apothecary!"
It's no use. I can't remember it.
Smike, you can only fail by not trying.
"Who calls so loud?"
It is a crime that Mr. C has not found a spot|for my Highland Fling.
Romeo and Juliet|will not be the same without it.
"Who calls so loud?"
- May I tempt you with a humble offering?|- Please.
The lamps are lit! Your public awaits!
Let us use our bodies like instruments...
and quiver together until music comes out!
You will be wonderful. Just relax.
"Who calls so loud?"
If a man did need a poison...
here lives a caitiff wretch|who would sell it to him.
What ho! Apothecary!
What ho?
Who calls so loud?
Well done.
Mr. Nickleby?
- This just came.|- Thank you.
If it is an offer from a competing company...
I hope you honor it|with the respect it deserves...
Newman says Kate is in some sort of peril.
He says we must come to London at once.
You leave us?|At the very moment of your triumph?
- I must, sir. It is a family drama.|- Those are always popular.
We shall miss you, Nicholas.
Very well, we'll have posters|out in the morning...
announcing positively|your last performance for tomorrow.
Then re-engagement|by popular demand for Friday.
And then, one absolutely|last-time-ever appearance...
on any stage, Saturday...
with the possibility|of a second show to follow.
No man has been more helpful|to me in my time of trouble than you...
but I must say that tonight|was my absolutely, positively...
final last performance.
There is an urgent family crisis.|I must be no less quick in responding to it...
than you would be if the Infant Phenomenon|herself were in danger.
There is only one response to that.
Farewell, my noble, lion-hearted boy.
- We shall never forget you.|- Nor we you.
And have you anything to say, my boy?
Who calls so loud?
- Goodbye. Thank you.|- Farewell, dear friends.
Ladies and gentlemen...
if you found these goodbyes affecting...
you will love our production|of Romeo and Juliet...
miraculously recast|with that great Italian actor...
whose name shall be revealed...
only to ticket buyers|at tonight's performance...
but who promises,|in honor of the local tastes...
to deftly insert into tonight's story...
the Highland Fling.
Mr. Noggs is in here?
He said for us to wait for him here.
Shall I get you something to eat?
- It may be some time before Newman arrives.|- Yes, please.
Not as much as little Kate Nickleby!
Tell us again what she said|in Nickleby's box.
She said she wished|her brother were there...
as he would be in a passion|that I would not soon forget!
Didn't she also say something about,|"If you press yourself further...
"I shall lose every hope|of a loving and decent marriage"?
I thought that was a bit much.
A word with you, sir.
Will you step apart with me?
I see no reason to step in any direction|until you state your name and business, sir.
My name is Nicholas Nickleby.|Miss Nickleby's brother.
I denounce you as a liar|and impeach you as a coward.
- You will tell me your name.|- Certainly not.
If there is a gentleman in this party...
he will acquaint me with the name|and residence of this man.
Someone answer me!
My sister's good name is at stake!
This dog is bothering me.
I am the son of a country gentleman...
your equal in education and birth...
and your superior, I trust,|in everything besides.
It is as much in his name as it is in my own,|that I demand you answer for your conduct.
Here is my answer, sir.
Now, gentlemen.
Come near my sister again...
and I shall not be so forgiving.
The Exchange is now open for business.
You are known to me now...
every suspicion viciously confirmed.
And you to me.
I? What wrong have I done?
Did you not attack the schoolmaster?
The monster was beating a crippled boy!
You choose to restore that boy?
No more than I would restore|a lamb to a wolf.
Then your appearance here|to beg my help is in vain.
You mistake the point of this conference.
We knew no shame until we knew you...
and the degradations we have endured...
whether at Dotheboys Hall|or in the dark box of a theatre...
all trace their poisoned roots to you.
You did not want us when we came...
and it shamed me to seek help|from someone unwilling to give it.
Now our only shame is the blood|which binds our name to yours.
Therefore, your brother's widow|and her children renounce you!
May every recollection of your life cast|a terrifying darkness over your deathbed.
How soon that day may come,|I cannot know.
But I do know that in our life,|you live no more.
I disown him.
I would give good money|to have him stabbed...
and rolled into the kennels|for the dogs to devour.
As would I.
But I am sure he's left London|in fear of my retribution.
Oh, indeed, sir, he has not.
I saw him just now in the city...
boasting of his triumphal attack over you.
I don't believe it.
You were there last night, Lord Verisopht.|I wager you could believe it.
I'll tell you what I believe.
I believe you have|only yourself to blame, Hawk.
If you had only told him who you were,|as he asked.
I was wrong, too, not to interfere.
I did not sleep the night, thinking about it.
Whatever mistakes were made,|were made by the boy.
I am his uncle,|and even I can see that he is no good.
He was defending the honor of his sister.
That is the very definition of goodness.
How can you not be proud of what|he's done in defense of your own niece?
You will be glad, my Lord, that I possess...
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