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.
- 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:
Speculate.
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...
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?
Uncle...
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?
No.
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.
Goodbye.
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.
And...
you may say "Mr. Noggs" there...
for I was a gentleman then.
I was.
- Walk on. - Goodbye, Nicholas.
Whoa!
Smike!
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.
What?
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.
Father!
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.
Smike!
- Where's the school spoon? - Please, ma'am.
Please.
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.
One...
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.
There.
Oh, dear, my heart.
I feel lost here, too.
But we must always hope.
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.
Yes?
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 "fenêtre", 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 "fenêtre."
I'm sure I am foolish.
It's just my pen is in need of...
mending.
May I be of service?
No, I just couldn't.
All right.
Tilda!
- 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.
Ladies.
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.
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!
Squeery...
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!
Please!
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.
Squeery!
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.
Stop!
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!
Stop!
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.
Pity.
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.
Tomorrow...
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.
Smike!
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.
Done!
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.
There.
Uncle...
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?
Food.
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.
But...
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!
Perfect!
Bravo!
Thrilling in the extreme!
Gentlemen...
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...
art...
and commerce.
And art, it would appear from the receipts...
is in its usual position of jeopardy.
Might you and I have a word, à deux?
Excusez-moi.
"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?
Please.
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?
Lear?
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.
Yes...
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.
Wackford?
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.
"£28.10.
"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.
Gone.
Forever.
Child...
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.
Bravo!
- 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?
Uncle...
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.
Uncle...
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.
Noggs!
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.
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...
none.
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.
No!
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.
What?
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...
such an unsentimental view when I am managing your investments.
Mr. Nickleby, I am no longer sure I can make an investment with you.
- Because of my nephew? - Because of your treatment of him!
And his sister!
When I think of her leaving the theater that night...
I feel sick to recall it.
Surely there is another way for me to expand my fortune...
than to enrich the tormentor...
of these children.
I see, from your eyes, you remember me.
If the change you see in me, from so long ago, does not move you...
It does not.
...then let the knowledge that I am as helpless and destitute as a child.
- Any man can earn his bread. - How?
Would you show me the means?
I did, once.
Not again.
It's 20 years and 5 months since you and I fell out.
Do you remember the cause?
You claimed part of the profits of some of my business...
alleging that you had brought it to me. When I refused you...
you threatened to reveal some... What was it you said?
Hold I'd gained over you in your absence.
Rifling through my files, I suspect.
So I had you arrested for an advance you had not repaid.
£30. That's all I owed you.
Indeed, it was more.
There was the interest.
Seven years I have been gone, under the most crushing conditions...
to return as you see me now, ready to renew my offer...
but on terms much easier for you than before.
You will want this information. I want only to eat and drink.
Is that all?
It depends on you whether that's all or not.
Are you threatening now to tell others...
of whatever you learned when you were my clerk?
To be plain with you, Mr. Brooker...
the world already knows what sort of man I am...
and I do not grow poorer.
- You cannot stain a black coat. - That's not what I meant.
Are those of your own name dear to you? If they are...
They are not.
- But... - But nothing.
If we meet again...
and you so much as notice me with one begging gesture...
you shall see the inside of a jail once more.
That is my answer to your trash.
Mother...
this is Smike.
- How do you do, Mr. Pike? - No, Mother, "Smike," with an "S."
- How do you do? - Very well, thank you, Mr. Spike.
And this is our landlady, Miss Lacreevy.
She is the artist whose work fills these walls.
I do hope you will let me make a miniature of you.
Kate, this is my faithful friend and fellow traveler.
I have been so eager...
to thank you for being such a comfort to Nicholas.
He is my only friend.
I would lay down my life to help him.
To a new beginning.
- To new subjects. - To an end of villains.
To finding proper work as soon as I can.
- And to our extended family. - Hear, hear.
Our family.
- Pork pie, mister? - No, thank you.
Are you well?
Yes, I...
Only weary.
You look so pale and were still so long.
Forgive me.
There are many opportunities here.
Surely a fine-looking gentleman is not reduced to such a necessity?
I look no finer than you, sir.
Yes, but I seek a worker, not work.
How did this come about?
Who's it for?
My father.
It's a bad thing for a young man to lose a father.
I feel more of a child than when he was alive.
And so I am obliged to throw off my uncle's protection...
and take care of mother, Kate, and Smike myself.
- But I grow desperate. - Now, don't say another word.
My boy.
My good sir, would you be so good as to wait here?
- Brother Ned? - Yes, brother Charles?
I've found someone for the position. We should make inquiries into his statements.
If confirmed, I'm hopeful they will be, we should assist him.
It's enough for me that if you say he should be assisted, then we shall assist him.
He has a mother, sister, and friend in need of support...
as well as the demands of his own stomach.
Compared to us, dear brother, he appears to have no stomach at all.
Frank, where are those cakes?
- Mr. Nickleby, my brother, Ned. - How do you do, sir?
Thank you, Frank.
- My friend. - Thank you.
Would you give us a moment to discuss your salary?
Now then...
I suppose we should ascertain his previous...
His previous stipend, of course.
Forgive me, sir, your previous salary was?
£1 a week, sir.
An annual salary of £52.
That's rather an unsuitable emolument for a boy.
For such a talented, prospective youth.
Mr. Nickleby, we would like to offer you a position here...
working alongside our nephew, Frank.
Based on the feeling I had during our walk...
as well as by the rapidity with which you ate that cake...
we'd like to begin you on a salary of £120 a year.
Is it not enough?
- We won't wait long before improving it. - No.
It is the generosity of it that undoes me.
For the first time since Father died...
I feel we may at last be in a position to find happiness.
Thank you, both, a thousand times.
- Are you at home? - Yes.
- To anybody? - Yes.
- To the tax gatherer? - No.
What about...
I'd know your face anywhere.
You'd know it better if your nephew hadn't maltreated it.
Who is this?
My son, little Wackford.
Indeed a specimen of the Dotheboys's old diet.
A miracle of high feeding.
His flesh, his firmness.
No tears.
His oiliness.
I'd expect nothing less.
And Mrs. Squeers, how is...
Mrs. Squeers is as she always is. A joy to all them as knows her.
One of our lads had an abscess last week.
To see her operate on him with a penknife.
And you? Have you recovered from that scoundrel's attack?
Only just.
Your nephew is a vicious animal.
That is why I asked you to come.
Noggs...
- See this package? - It's big enough.
Take it, please, at once.
"Take it, please, at once."
"At once, do you hear? If not sooner."
He may be a little mad.
I wanted to offer you...
this as a recompense...
to your troubles, though...
it seems foolish...
if the boy is unpunished.
He might come after you again.
Surely he's been punished by you.
Our ties have been cut.
I'm not sure that he views that as a punishment.
What about the other boy?
- Smike? - Yes.
You said that my nephew was quite attached to him.
What do you know of him?
Only that he came to us 12 or so years ago.
The money was paid at first, and then it stopped.
But I kept the lad out of charity...
which coincided with a period of usefulness on his part.
- No parents then? - No.
- No person with any claim on him? - No.
So he's yours.
And he's been stolen.
Would it not be well within your rights to take him?
That would settle your score with my nephew.
Wounding him, not through force...
but through his own affections.
Capturing wayward boys is something of a specialty.
It's most kind of you to join me on my errands.
Ribbons for sale.
- Oh, dear. - What is it?
Father used to tell me...
there were girls who sold ribbons on the streets in London...
and that if we ever came here, he would buy me some as a remembrance.
Ribbons for sale.
How much, please?
Twopence for the pink ones. Penny for the others.
I'll take the pink one, please.
Thank you.
Help!
Somebody! Help!
It's Smike. He's been taken.
It must be the wretched Squeers. He was with your uncle.
I didn't hear it all, but they were speaking of Smike.
- Newman, what shall we do? - He stays at the Saracen's Head.
Squeers, but no Smike.
It's John Browdie.
Is John Browdie good or bad?
He gave me money when he heard I'd beaten Squeers.
He's very good.
If it isn't...
- What are you doing here? - Tilda and I are on our honeymoon.
Schoolmaster says this was a fine place to stay. He's here as well.
I know. You remember the boy that was with me that night?
Crippled lad? Of course.
We suspect that Squeers has taken him, just this day, by force.
He's talked of nothing but revenge since you left.
Could you find out if he has him?
Who do you suppose we've laid our hands on, Wackford and me?
In London? Not that hateful, horrible Mr. Knuckleboy?
No, but next door to him.
- Smike? - Aye!
Me and young Wackford, we grabbed him!
He was crying and begging me to let him go, but I wouldn't.
What have thee done with him?
He's in the schoolmaster's room, next to our room.
- What is the way in? - You must go through the inn...
but the schoolmaster is sitting in the front room, just by the stairs.
Oh, dear, it's impossible.
I could distract the schoolmaster. Thee could slip past and go up to my room.
There is a door adjoining the schoolmaster's.
Go through it, get the lad.
I'll watch the stairs and again try to distract him when thee come out.
May I offer an opinion with regards to this scheme?
It seems foolhardy, redolent of danger...
and doomed to failure. Otherwise, I can find no fault with it.
It is for Smike.
Schoolmaster, I couldn't trouble thee to take the head of the table, could I?
I'd like to propose a toast to thee...
and thy family. To thee, Mr. Squeers and the lovely Fanny.
Mr. Squeers...
I'd like to congratulate thee.
I think it's about time for a song. Come on, Tilda.
Be still. Do not worry.
Thank you.
You are the best and bravest friend.
Hush. Lean forward. I shall untie you.
Grand singer, my wife.
Little Wackford, you left our bedroom window open.
- I did not. - Don't argue with me, piglet, go and shut it.
I thought I would have to go back.
Never.
But we are not free yet. Speed and silence are of the essence.
- Thee talking about the same blacksmith? - Aye, that's him.
Saw him the other day. I stuck up for thee.
He said thee weren't fit to live with pigs. I said thee were.
Thank you kindly, John Browdie, you're an honorable man.
Fine door, that.
Quick. Squeers is outside.
- It's been a grand day, John Browdie. - That it has.
He was stolen?
Right from under you?
To be literal about it, and I'm not sure this will dissipate...
your very strong emotions on the subject...
but he was actually stolen right from over me.
My nephew does not know the enemy he has made in me.
I shall put his ruin ahead of my own business!
- Certainly done that already. - What?
The bank sent a letter saying you were short in your accounts.
Sir Mulberry also wrote.
- He declined your invitation to invest. - Rubbish!
The boy is not invincible.
People who wish to be thought of as good are always weak!
I will listen to every rumor and every rumble...
until I can strike him.
And then I will strike him...
until he can be struck no more.
Now, my dear, you must...
I do entreat and beseech of you... You must get up.
Please, a chair, place her here.
Not a word for your life, brother Ned.
Now, my dear sir, you must leave.
Is there no way I could be of service?
...to which they said no.
It has now been three weeks. She's never come back.
And no one will tell me anything about her.
They never answer any questions on it, and discourage the posing of others.
This distresses me.
Nicholas, have you found your matching half?
Then we must think of how to find her.
For when she knows you, she will love you, too.
This is our nephew, Frank. This is Mr. Nickleby's sister, Kate.
My uncle says you're quite a gardener. May I show you around?
Please.
Mrs. Nickleby, would you excuse Nicholas?
We have a small matter of business to attend to.
Of course.
I never thought I'd find fault with your brother's statements...
but he has described you as exceedingly pretty.
May I offer the correction that such a remark seems inadequate?
He has told me much of you...
and of how patient you have been in teaching him.
Do you remember the young lady who fainted in our office?
Fainted?
Yes.
She is the daughter of a lady whom, when she herself was young...
I loved very dearly.
You will smile, perhaps, to hear an old man talk about such things.
I have no such inclination.
In fact, I'm eager to know if she returned your affection.
She made another choice.
A man named Bray.
Inconsiderate of all obligations, except to those of his own leisure...
he squandered his fortune, and then hers.
Finally, after 20 years of bitter unhappiness, she came to me...
sadly changed. She was dying.
And she asked us to help her daughter, Madeline...
should she ever seek our assistance.
But Madeline has sought these past two years...
to earn her money on her own.
However, the demands for service her father places upon her...
make steady, not to mention lucrative, employment an impossibility.
She came to us, that day you caught her from fainting...
and made the appeal, asking only that her father never know.
So we came up with this scheme...
of which we are not unreasonably proud.
- It is a very good scheme. - It's very good, indeed.
Madeline is an artist...
and we thought that someone could make a feint...
of commissioning her paintings for a high price.
This allows her to stay at home, where he needs her...
And allows our involvement to be disguised. He knows us.
We were hoping you would be the agent.
Madeline, who is this?
Who told a stranger we could be seen?
I'm here to purchase some paintings, sir.
- These three, please. - Very well.
I want a newspaper, and grapes, and another bottle of wine!
Yes, Father, very well, I'll just finish with this gentleman.
I want it now!
Please, Father.
This purchase will help us pay for the things you want.
This never happened when your mother was alive.
Sir.
Pray, do not mention to my mother's dear friends what has passed here.
Father has suffered so much, and is worse than usual this morning.
You have but to hint at a wish, and I would hazard my life to gratify it.
Have you ever had the sensation of looking at someone for the first time...
and ever so quickly, the past and future seem to fuse?
- The first time I saw you... - At your uncle's.
And then, that day on the street by the wall.
- You remember. - I felt such concern for you.
And I for you.
Does that not mean something?
That we felt so much, so deeply, before speaking?
And now that I know your history...
I entreat you to believe, I would do anything to help you.
Do you know Madeline Bray?
Nigel Bray's daughter?
Indeed I do. She may be the prettiest girl in all of London.
Bray owes me money.
What if I were to erase that debt...
in exchange for his giving you his daughter's hand?
Would that put you in a better frame of mind to consider my investment?
I should say it would secure it.
My...
the canvas must blush, she flatters it so.
Are they not extraordinary?
I'm sorry to intrude, but I was passing this way.
I remember your telling me on our walk how much you like violets.
I thought I would bring some for your mother...
and all of you.
That is most kind of you. They're lovely.
Thank you. Won't you stay and have supper?
Why, of course.
Smike, old friend, will you not join us?
I'm not hungry tonight.
You seem so melancholy of late.
Do you fear Squeers might come again?
It is not that.
Then what?
Speak of it, and let me help you if I can.
I will tell you the reason one day...
not now.
I hate myself for it.
But I cannot help it.
Will you trust me to tell you later?
Of course.
My heart is very full.
You cannot know how much.
I shall want two more in a week's time.
Is that possible?
- There won't be any more sales. - Father.
Not since the news.
News?
What is it?
- Can you not go see her and ask? - No.
That would arouse suspicion on her father's part.
She will come to us and tell us, I feel sure.
I shall ask my sister and mother.
Their feminine sympathies may shed some light.
There is no need. Your sister is here.
Forgive me...
but there is a matter about which I am harboring the gravest concerns.
It is Smike.
Inhale.
Again.
He's gravely ill.
Every token of rapid consumption is present.
His only hope depends upon his being instantly removed from London.
- Devonshire's the best place. - We come from Devonshire.
Whoever takes him should prepare for the worst. He may never return.
Good evening.
Father...
I know I am stronger than when you left us, but not strong enough to lose Smike.
If this is what that strength is for, then I do not want it.
Not Smike.
This is my room.
Once, when Kate was very little, she was lost.
After hours of search, we found her here, fast asleep...
before there was any grave...
protected from the sun by this tree.
Father took her up, still sleeping, and told my mother that whenever he died...
he was to be buried where his dear little child had laid her head.
It is a beautiful tree.
It is like a home.
What is it?
Do you remember my telling you of the man who took me to school?
I just now raised my eyes towards that tree...
and there, with his eyes fixed on me, he stood!
Only reflect for a moment.
Granted that he is alive...
and wandering around so lonely a place as this...
so far from the public road...
do you think at this distance of time you could possibly know the man again?
Anywhere.
Let us go inside.
I've had such pleasant dreams.
You asked me some time ago why I was so melancholy.
Shall I tell you why?
Not if it pains you.
I only asked that I might make you happier.
I know.
I felt that.
You will forgive me, because...
I could not help it.
Though I would've died to make her happy...
it broke my heart to see.
I know he loves her dearly.
Kate.
I love her.
I procured a lock of her hair.
It hangs at my breast, in these ribbons.
When I am dead...
would you please take it off, so that no eyes but yours might see it?
And when I am laid in my coffin...
and am about to be put in the earth...
would you hang it round my neck, that it might rest with me forever?
On my knees, I pledge it.
Now...
Now I can say it:
I am happy.
Newman.
Smike is gone.
Bless you, dear boy.
Thank God for you, Newman.
Always there to catch me.
But what brings you here?
The young lady for whom you've come to care so deeply...
- Is she in danger? - She's to be married...
- To Sir Mulberry Hawk. - What?
Before I tell you this, promise you won't do anything rash.
Tell me.
It was your uncle. It was his idea.
I overheard it, and I'm sure he did it to wound you.
I've so much more to tell you about him and your dear friend Smike.
Your uncle doesn't know it yet, but he has just lost £10,000.
What are you doing here?
I come to offer aid to the unhappy subject of your treachery:
- Madeline Bray. - Do you know her?
I beg you for a moment alone.
You were betrayed and sold for money.
This web is of my own weaving. I know what I am doing and why.
I know why, too. It only deepens my esteem for you.
But you cannot degrade yourself in your esteem...
by giving yourself away as payment for another man's debt.
I will not disguise from you, sir, that I have undergone some...
pain of mind.
I do not love the gentleman.
This he knows, and knowing, still offers me his hand.
By accepting, I can free my father...
Does your own happiness matter so little?
Father is all that remains of my family.
That is why I have come to offer you a place in our home.
You have been so good to me.
But I cannot leave Father.
He must come with you.
He is too proud.
I am proud, too...
to know someone...
so good.
Madeline, come at once. It's your father.
He wouldn't stir, even after I tapped him.
Come.
Let us leave this place.
My curse upon you.
My bitter, deadly curse upon you, boy.
Your curse has no power over me.
The structures you raised all through your misspent life...
are crumbling into dust.
This very day...
£10,000 of your hoarded wealth are gone...
in one great crash.
- How could you know such a thing? - It is true, and you shall find it so.
Your day is done.
Night is coming fast for you.
£10,000? Can that be true?
I've invested such a sum...
and I am waiting...
for news of it.
But he could not know that.
If he is right that you have lost the money...
and the money that Bray owed you, you shall not have my money now.
He is...
not right.
My life collapsed like a house of sticks the day my father died.
I clung to my mother and sister, then Smike and Noggs...
hoping, waiting for I knew not what.
I knew not what, until that day when I opened my eyes...
and the darkness was replaced with the sight of your face.
It was the island towards which I'd been sailing, unguided, my whole life...
the dream my father had promised me before I could even imagine its existence.
I have been happy for times, little times, since he died...
but never at peace.
Not until I looked at your face...
and saw the universe in order behind it.
Nicholas...
I feel you know what it's like to be without happiness...
but do you know what it's like to be afraid of it?
To see the world...
as so conniving, you cannot take pleasure in the appearance of something good...
because you suspect...
it is only a painted drop behind which other troubles lie.
That has been my life.
Every good thing has been a trick.
Until you.
Yet I am afraid to take your hand.
What if you cannot or will not...
save me?
I can bear to be maltreated by the greedy or the weak...
but to be let down...
- By an angel... - I am not an angel.
I live as far from that lofty perch as any man.
My temper alone, my impatience...
Perhaps I should not list all my faults, in case I am too persuasive.
You are the one who is so admirably able and strong.
I am tired of being strong.
As am I.
Weakness is tiring, but strength is exhausting.
You see, I cannot save you...
for I need saving, too.
What are you proposing?
Only this:
that we save ourselves together.
Nicholas, please. Think of the others. People might see.
I don't care.
Noggs?
My God.
Ten thousand...
pounds.
Who bade you enter this house?
- I have no business with you. - Alas, we have business with you.
We have come to report a tragedy in your family.
- Has something happened to my niece? - No, sir.
Though we do bring news of a death.
Don't tell me it's her brother's death?
That would be too welcome to be true.
Sorry to disappoint you, Uncle.
But it will not be the last unhappy development for you this night.
You know nothing.
Every word I will say to you is based on information...
from an unimpeachable source.
This man...
who'd sell his soul for a drink?
This is a good beginning.
To tamper with a fellow like this, whose every word is a lie!
Who made me a fellow like this?
If I'd sell my soul for a drink, why wasn't I a thief?
Swindler?
Here, you, Nickleby!
You say they tampered with me.
Who was it tampered with the Yorkshire schoolmaster...
to take Smike away from them?
You're listening now, aren't you?
You are an eavesdropping, drunken scoundrel.
I deny the charge, but ask regardless, what of it?
I'm back, Mr. Nickleby.
What have we now?
Do you know who this is?
We are satisfied Mr. Brooker speaks the truth.
A common thief.
A beggar. A convict!
Were you not once married?
What?
There's no crime in that.
But you desired the marriage to be kept secret...
for if your wife's father had known...
he would have changed his will and denied you his fortune.
Mr. Brooker also tells us your wife had a child.
Your child.
Because the marriage was secret, this, too, had to be kept secret...
and you sent her away.
Hush, my dear.
Don't mind it now.
Let me raise your head.
There.
So the child was put out to nurse, far away.
His mother never saw him, and she grew tired of the deception.
So she eloped with another man.
Soon thereafter, she came into her money.
You, naturally, pursued her...
leaving me in charge of the boy.
I was told to bring him here, which I did, keeping him in the garret.
Neglect made him sickly.
Mr. Brooker consulted a doctor...
who said he must be removed from the city for a change of air...
or he would die.
But he did die. I know that.
At last I can say it.
I told you that the boy had died, but he had not.
I had heard, like most men, of Yorkshire schools.
So I took the child to one kept by a man named Squeers.
I was able to pay the fees myself, but then my troubles took over...
and I was sent away out of this country.
When I returned, nearly eight years later, I sought you out.
But you repulsed me.
So I found out your clerk...
and showed him there were good reasons for communicating with me.
I told him my story.
But just to be sure that the boy I was thinking of was the same boy...
I went to Devonshire, and knew at once that it was.
Did Squeers...
know who the child was?
No.
I told him his name was Smike.
Then the crippled boy...
is my son.
Was your son.
That boy, whose loving cheerfulness and sweetness of heart...
could have been the life-saving comfort you need...
as all your fortune falls away...
that boy now sleeps in the ground...
by my father.
Nearer and nearer draws the time
the time that shall surely be
when the Earth shall be filled with the glory of God
as the waters cover the sea
Ring on.
For births that lead to early deaths...
for marriages made in hell...
and for the coming in of every year...
that brings this cursed world closer to its end.
Would that it had come...
before tonight.
What can we do to work God's work
to prosper and increase
the brotherhood of all mankind
the reign of the Prince of Peace?
What can we do to hasten the time
the time that shall surely be
when the Earth shall be filled
with the glory of God
as the waters
cover the sea?
In every life, no matter how full or empty one's purse...
there is tragedy.
It is the one promise life always fulfills.
Thus, happiness is a gift...
and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes...
and to add to other people's store of it.
What happens if, too early...
we lose a parent...
that party on whom we rely for only everything?
What did these people do when their families shrank?
They cried their tears, but then they did the vital thing:
They built a new family, person by person.
They came to see that family need not be defined...
merely as those with whom they share blood...
but as those for whom they would give their blood.
It is in that spirit that we offer this heartfelt toast...
to the brides and grooms.
The brides and grooms.
We are going to live in the old house again.
And we will walk and sit here every day...
soon, I hope, with our children.
We will always be with you...
and you with us, dearest Father...
and cousin.