All language subtitles for Nicholas.Nickleby.2002.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG

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...

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.

Nineteen years old,

and head of his family.

Come here!

Said he would
join me at the tavern.

Turnips and carrots!

Mind your back, Miss.

Turnips and carrots...

Iron gates
and wheels mended.

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 that the interest
is what makes the debt so unmanageable.

Could you not stop it?

Tell your father
to repay the loan,

and that will stop
the interest right away.

You must bear up
against sorrow, ma'am.

I always do.

Mine was no common loss.

Well, it was no uncommon loss.

Husbands die every day.

And wives.

And 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,

uh, the creditors
had administered

and there was nothing
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 any property of his own,

he thinks he has the right
to dispose of other people's?

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 is
the morning paper that I left on my desk?

- On my desk.
- Bring it to me.

"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, 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 pounds.

"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 to the post,

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 "number 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. Out you go.

Subdue your appetites,
and you've conquered human nature.

Yorkshire coach
leaves in 5 minutes!

Wait by the coach
in a straight line.

Ah, Squeers,
this is the boy I told you about.

My nephew.

I am most grateful
for the opportunity to serve, sir.

- Mr. Squeers.
- Ah, 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 pounds
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.

Psst!
Young man. Young man.

Forgive me. I know the world.

Your father didn't,

or he wouldn't have
done me a kindness

when there was
no hope of a return.

You don't, or you
wouldn't be bound

on... 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, 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!

Smike!

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! Hurry.

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.
Of course you are.

That's right...

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.

Eh?

"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.

Because 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.

Huh? Huh?

Please.

Don't contradict
your mistress.

Take it.

Take it.
Be thankful.

A most invaluable
woman that, Nickleby.

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 pounds
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 8 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-I-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-I-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...

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.

No.

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.

Oh.

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 "fenetre, "
F-E-N-E...

Oh, father.

Oh, 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 "fenetre."

No, I'm sure
I am foolish.

It's just my pen is in need of...

Mending.

Oh, well, may I be of service?

No, no, I couldn't,
I just couldn't.

Well, all right.

Tilda!

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?
- Yes.

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?

Well, we just need
a final declaration to settle it,

but he's shy
in the way of words.

Oh, 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, eh?

Eh?

Get on with your work!

Don't give me that
high-and-mighty look.

He don't pay.

Therefore, he works.

Ladies.

Quick, 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.

Oh!

Oh, Mr. Nickleby,
help!

What's happened?

I think she was undone
by your coldness just now.

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

that have been so nearly
expressed between you of late...

If I caused any distress,
I reproach myself most bitterly, but...

This is most awkward,
but...

Well, 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 still
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.

Smike!

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.

Well,

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.

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.

Smike!

Smike!

Smike!

He is not here, sir!

Smike!

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!

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!

Squeery, we have him!

Is every boy here?

Get back!

And you, Nickleby.

Have you anything to say?

Please, sir, spare me.

Oh, I'll spare you, Smike.

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!

Ah! Ah!

Stop! Stop! Stop!

No, please, wait!

Wait, 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, huh?

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.

No. 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. Huh, huh!

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.

Smike...

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
with her, she couldn't escape.

Have you thought
about the investment I brought you?

Uh, well,
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.

Well, I like to
keep a clear head.

Yet you pour us
so much.

Nickleby, 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 come
to her uncle's to talk business,

I can think of no other place
I would rather talk business.

No other place on earth.

Hear, 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.

No!
You misunderstand me. I...

In fact, I'll hold
any man 50 pounds

that Miss Nickleby
can't look in my face

and tell me that
she wasn't thinking so.

Done, done, done!

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?

I...

Hush, my dear.

Don't mind it, now.

Then let me go.

Let me leave
this place.

You must dry
your eyes first.

Hmm?
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?

Well, 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.

Ah!

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 3rd 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!

Well...

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?

Ooh, like a prince!
With your own salary, and your friend's,

and your writing,
you could make a pound 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, Mrs. C,
could I have a word?

What is it now?

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!

Ah!

Somebody forgot
his spear.

The flames!
The flames! And remember, they're hot!

Ow!

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.

And 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, a deux?

Excusez-moi.

Psst!

"Infant phenomenon"!

"Infant humbug"
is more to the point!

She has been 10
for the past eight 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.

Oh! 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..."

- Four.
- Eight.

"28.10 pounds.

"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.

Ah!

Child...

Forgive me.
I have been remiss

in my attentions
to you and your mother.

Oh...

I came to enquire
whether you and she

would accompany me
to the theater on Friday evening?

That is most
kind of you, uncle.

Mmm. 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?

Oh! 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!

Oh, don't hurry.

Oh, 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 would be in a passion
from which you would not soon recover.

Linger with me
just a moment

as they extinguish
the lights.

I will not.

Will you deny me
everything I want?

If 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.

Oh, 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.

Oh, 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, here. Take this.

But I am not crying.

Oh, 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.

Oh, that's right, yes.
Yes, give way now.

Noggs!

You're not...
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.

Yes. Romeo and Juliet
will not be the same without it.

"Who calls so loud?"
"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.

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.

Well,

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.

Mr. Crummles, 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 a most
urgent family crisis,

and 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!

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!

My patience is at an end, Miss Bray.

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!

Oh, 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 theater,

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,
for 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 a share
in the profits of some of my business,

alleging that you had brought it to me.
When I refused you,

you threatened to reveal
some, uh... What was it you said?

Hold I'd gained over
you in your absence.

Yes, rifling through
my files, I suspect.

So I had you arrested
for an advance you had not repaid.

Thirty pounds.
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.

No, 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, sir,

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.

Oh, 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.

Oh, ah, then 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, hmm?

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 believe I've found
someone for the position.

We should make inquiries
into his statements.

If they are confirmed, I'm hopeful they will
be, we should assist him.

It's enough for me
dear brother, 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?

Ah!

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.

Uh, forgive me, sir,
your previous salary was?

A pound a week, sir.

An annual salary
of 52 pounds.

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 pounds 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...

Oh, I'd know
your face anywhere.

You'd know it better
if your nephew hadn't maltreated it.

And, 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.

And those tears.

His oiliness.

I'd expect nothing less.

And Mrs., uh, Squeers,
uh, 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, uh, 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 is it, please?

Two pence for the pink ones.
Penny for the others.

I'll take the
pink one, please.

Thank you.

Help! Help! 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.

Oh, he's good.
He's very good.

Well, well, well,
if it isn't...

Shh!

What are you doing here?

Tilda and I are
on our honeymoon.

Schoolmaster says this was a fine place
to stay. In fact, he's here as well.

I know. Do 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 Tilda's and my 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, uh, 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?

Eh? Oh, aye, aye.

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.

Oh, 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.

Brisket. Nice bit
of rolled brisket here.

Lovely, lovely beef brisket.

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, quick.
Squeers is outside.

It's been a grand day,
John Browdie.

Aye, that it has.

Ah!

He was stolen?

Right from under you?

Well, to be literal about it,
and I'm not sure this will dissipate

your various 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,
my dear, you must...

I do entreat and beseech of you...
No, no, you must get up.

Oh, oh, oh...

No, please, a chair,
place her here.

Not a word
for your life, brother Ned.

Now, my dear sir,
you must leave.

Well, well, is...
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 the matter,

and discourage
the posing of others.

This distresses me.

Nicholas, have you found
your matching half?

Well, 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 tells me you're quite a
gardener. May I show you around?

Please.

Uh, Mrs. Nickleby,
I wonder if you would excuse Nicholas.

We have a small
matter of business to attend to.

Yes, of course.

I never thought I should find fault
with any statement of your brother's,

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?

Oh, 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.

Finally, 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.

Oh, it's very good,
indeed, very good.

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?
Oh, indeed I do.

She may be
the prettiest girl in all of London.

Well, Bray owes me money.

What if I were
to, uh, 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?

Frank.

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.

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.

No.

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?

No, there won't
be any more sales.

Father.

Not since the news.

The news?

What is it?

Can you not go
see her and ask?

No, 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.

Perhaps their
feminine sympathies

can shed some light
on the mystery.

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.

Um, 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 wished 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, Smike?

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.

Hmm.

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, you must
promise you won't do anything rash.

Tell me, Newman.
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 pounds.

What are you
doing here?

I come to offer aid
to the unhappy subject of your treachery,

Madeline Bray.

Oh, do you know her?

Nicholas.

I beg you for
a moment alone.

You were betrayed
and sold for money.

This web is of my
own weaving. I...

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 own 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.

No, 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 day,
this very day,

10,000 pounds 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 pounds?
Can that be true?

I've invested such a sum,

and I am waiting...

For news of it.

But he could not know that.

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...

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, well...

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.

I don't care.

Noggs?

Oh.

My God.

My God.

10,000...

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 am
about to say to you

is based on information

from an
unimpeachable source.

This man...

Who'd sell his
soul for a drink?

Oh, 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?

Aye,
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 at first,

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.

God is working His purpose out

And the time is drawing near

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.