Original subtitles

BOY: Floy! Wait for me!

(THEME TUNE MASKS DIALOGUE)

- If you please, sir? - Now, then.

I ain't got nothing for you, little girl. Be off.

If you please, is this the city?

You know it is. Now, be off with you. There's nothing for you here.

I don't want anything, thank you, except to know the way to Dombey and Son.

Why, what would you be wanting with Dombey and Son?

To know the way there, if you please.

Aye there, you, sir. You're a Dombey's jockey, ain't ya?

I'm in Dombey's House, Mr Clark.

Well, look 'ee here, then.

- What is it? - I'm lost, if you please.

- Lost? - I was lost this morning.

- Where? - A long way from here.

And an ugly old woman took my clothes away.

Where do you live?

My name is Florence Dombey,

and I beg you to take care of me, if you please.

There, don't cry, Miss Dombey.

I'll take care of you.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

(KNOCKING INTENSIFIES)

Good heaven! What's this?

- What in the world... - Ssh.

Well, Uncle Sol, it's a wonderful adventure.

It's Mr Dombey's daughter,

lost in the streets, and robbed of her clothes by an old witch of a woman.

Found by me, and brought home to our parlour to rest.

Mr Dombey's daughter? Well, I wouldn't have known...

No, nor would anybody else. Nobody would. Nobody could, you know.

Cut some dinner for her, will you, Uncle? In case she wakes up.

- Yes. - I'll run upstairs and get another jacket on

and then go for a hackney coach to take her home.

I say, Uncle, isn't this an adventure?

- It's the most extraordinary... - No, but do, Uncle. Miss Florence.

- Dinner, Uncle. - Yes, yes, I'll look after her, Wally.

Pretty dear. Famished, of course. Now, you go and get ready.

Lord bless me! Richard Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London.

- Don't wake her, Uncle Sol. - No, no, no.

- She's a pretty child. - Pretty indeed.

I never saw such a face.

I'll get my jacket.

- I say, Uncle Sol? - Here he is again.

How does she look?

- Quite happy. - Well, that's famous.

- No, I'm off. - I hope you are.

- I say, Uncle Sol? - Here he is again!

How does she look now, Uncle?

Pretty much the same as before, Wally.

Oh, that's right.

Well, now I am off.

Pretty child.

Yes.

The idea! To think that one's servants cannot be trusted!

Indeed. One wonders what the world is coming to.

(TEARFULLY) Oh, it wasn't my fault, ma'am.

I cannot abide people who will not make an effort

He said they were chasing Mrs Richards' son Biler,

the one who's in the Charitable Grinders.

Poor Mr Dombey! He is so heartbroken that he cannot find words to speak.

Oh, the cruelness of it.

BUTLER: Mr Gay, sir.

Oh, I beg your pardon, sir, but I'm happy to say it's all right. Miss Dombey is found.

She's found?

What did he say?

I told you, Louisa, that she would certainly be found.

Let the servants know that no further steps are necessary.

Certainly.

Thank you.

Now, sir, how was my daughter found?

- I know how she was lost... - Oh!

-...but who found her? - I believe I found Miss Dombey, sir.

- At least I was a fortunate instrument. -Instrument? What do you mean?

Be plain and coherent, sir. Where is my daughter now?

In a hackney coach, outside your front door.

Fetch her in. No, I spoke to Miss Nipper.

- And tell the driver to wait. - Yes, sir.

(MRS RICHARDS CONTINUES SOBBING)

Now, sir, continue.

Miss Florence, sir, was taken away by an old woman,

who robbed her of her clothes, and then sent her off to fend for herself.

But somehow she found a way into the city, to Dodd's warehouse.

Very well.

You need not wait, Gay, you will be rewarded tomorrow.

Thank you, sir, but I'm sure I wasn't thinking of any reward.

What you think of or what you affect to think of is of little consequence, sir.

You have done well, now don't undo it.

Louisa,

please to give this lad some wine.

Yes. This way.

Richards.

There's the child!

Mercy on us, Florence!

We've all been quite distracted.

Now go up to your dear papa this instant.

Mr Gay?

- Walter? - Yes, Miss Florence?

- Are you going away now? - Yes, Miss Florence.

Goodbye, Walter. I shall never forget you.

No indeed. I never will.

Come along, Miss Floy.

- Oh! - Oh, Miss Florence, forgive me!

DOMBEY: Florence! Come here.

- You're quite well? - Yes, Papa.

This must serve as a lesson to you never to run away again

or wander anywhere with treacherous attendance.

- No! - Miss Nipper, take her to bed.

Oh, it wasn't Mrs Richards' fault! Truly!

MISS NIPPER: Miss Florence.

Florence, dear, go.

Come along.

Oh, you may well weep, wretched girl.

This is how Mr Dombey's kindness is repaid

for him giving you employment and your child an education.

Oh!

You have blighted Mr Dombey's generosity.

Miss Tox, there is no need to pursue these observations.

- This woman is discharged and paid. - Oh, no!

You'll leave this house, Richards, for taking my son - my son -

to haunts and into society which are not to be thought of without a shudder.

As to the accident which befell Miss Florence,

I regard it as a happy and fortunate occurrence,

or I should never have known of what you have been guilty.

- No! Please, sir! - There is a hackney coach

-waiting at the door, I believe. -(SOBS)

Miss Tox, you'll have the kindness to see that it is paid for to...

...to Staggs' Gardens.

-(SOBBING CONTINUES) - Your confidence is an honour, Mr Dombey.

Come along. Do please be quiet.

(RICHARDS WAILS)

Miss Floy!

Miss Floy, not so quickly.

"Papa? - Hm?

What's money?

Money? What is money, Paul?

Yes.

- What is it? - It's gold and silver and copper.

Guineas, shillings, ha'pence. You know what they are.

Oh, yes. I mean what is money after all?

What can it do?

You'll know better by and by, my man, money can do anything.

- Anything, Papa? - Almost.

Anything means everything, don't it, Papa?

It includes it, yes. (CHUCKLES)

Then can money make me well and quite strong, Papa?

Well, you are quite well and strong, are you not?

I'm so tired sometimes.

And my bones ache so.

I don't know what to do.

Young people should be tired at night, for then they sleep well.

It's not at night, Papa, it's in the day.

And I lie down in Florence's lap and she sings to me.

At night, I dream about such curious things.

It's little Paul's bed time.

Say good night, Paul.

And you, Mrs Wickam, take him upstairs, if you please.

I want Florence to come for me.

Won't you come with your poor Nurse Wickam, Master Paul?

- No, I won't. - Oh, bless him.

Paul?

Say good night to Papa.

Good night, Papa.

Good night, Paul.

Thank you, Mrs Wickam.

Louisa, my dear, a word with you, if you please.

(FLORENCE AND PAUL SING)

♪ My love, my love

♪ I'll give you a beautiful life

♪ Tell me you'll never ever leave me, love...

(SONG CONTINUES)

- Did Dr Pilkins come and see Paul today? - He did.

- What did he say? - He recommended...

First, allow me to express my own views.

The child is hardly...as stout as I could wish.

With your usual happy discrimination, Paul, you've hit the point at once.

Our darling is not altogether the stoutest we could wish.

No.

The fact is, his soul is a great deal too large for his frame.

And the way in which that child talks, no one would believe.

His expressions only yesterday upon the subject of funerals!

Yes, he's just been talking to me about his bones.

Now, what on earth has anyone to do with the bones of my son?

- He's not a living skeleton, I suppose. - Very far from it.

Bones, funerals. We are not undertakers, or mutes, or gravediggers, I believe.

Very far from it.

I do not approve of such topics.

Paul may perhaps be delicate, but he is not sick.

No indeed.

If the dear child has some temporary weakness of the system,

and does, for the moment, occasionally lose the use of his...

(CLEARS THROAT) "legs,

these are casualties common to many children,

and not to be prevented by care or caution.

- And the doctor, what did he say? - He recommended sea air.

Indeed.

There's nothing to be made uneasy by in that.

I have been recommended sea air myself a great many times.

Perhaps a shod absence from this house, the air of Brighton

and the bodily and mental training of a certain...Mrs Pipohin, for instance.

Who is Mrs Pipchin, Louisa?

She is an elderly person who, for some time, has devoted all her energies

to the care and treatment of infancy.

Her husband broke his head in pumping water out of the Peruvian mines.

Er...not being a pumper himself,

but having invested money in the speculation.

Which failed.

Oh. Does this respectable matron keep a school?

I think one might more aptly describe the establishment

as an infantine boarding house of a very select nature.

Hm.

Of course, little Paul could go nowhere without Florence.

It-It's quite an infatuation with him.

He's young, you know, and has fancies.

I'm painfully aware of his fancies, Louisa. I shall consider the matter.

And Brighton is not a great distance away.

You could go down there yourself at least once a week to see them.

- To see them? - Why, little Paul and Florence, of course.

Yes.

Florence.

Well, sir, and how do you think you shall like me?

- I don't think I shall like you at all. - Paul!

I want to go away. This isn't my house.

No, it's mine.

- It's a very nasty one. - There are nastier places than this, though,

where we shut up our bad boys.

- Has he ever been in it? - He has.

Miss Dombey, my niece Berinthia is in the kitchen.

She will show you where you are to sleep.

I wish, if you please, to make the further acquaintance of this young gentleman.

- Yes, Mrs Pipchin. - Floy!

You may see your sister at suppertime, and thereafter whenever you please.

Will you be seated, Master Dombey?

- And what are you thinking about? - You.

- And what are you thinking about me? - I'm thinking how old you must be.

You must never say things like that, young gentleman! That will never do.

- Why not? - Because it isn't polite.

- Not polite? - No.

Mrs Wickam said that it isn't polite to eat all the toast.

Mrs Wickam is a bold-faced hussy!

What's that?

Oh, never you mind, sir.

Remember the story of the little boy

who was gored to death by a mad bull for asking questions?

If the bull was mad, how did it know the boy had asked questions?

I don't believe that story.

- You don't believe it? - Not unless it might have been a tame bull.

Oh, go to your sister, young infidel.

Master Bitherstone, come and sit by me, if you please.

Tame bull indeed!

- I've brought Captain Cuttle, Uncle. - Now then, Gills, me old shipmate.

What's this I've been a-hearing?

It's all up with me. My race is run.

Nay, lay your head to the wind. We'll fight it through.

- So, you've got the broker in, I see. - That he has.

There's payment due on a bond debt and I'm in possession.

But you know me, Sol, I come myself because of keeping it quiet and sociable.

I'm obliged to you, Mr Brogley.

Stand aside, Walter, lad.

Here, we'll make a start with these.

Come, say what you make of them.

Lord help us! You don't suppose that property's of any use, do you?

- Why not? - Well, the amounfs £370 odd.

Well, all's fish that comes to your net, I suppose?

Certainly, but sprats ain't whales, you know.

I'm behind the times, old friend.

- The stock had better be sold. - Oh, nay.

Yes, it'll more than pay the debt.

I can go and die somewhere on the balance.

Belay such talk. Let me think.

If I weren't a man on a small annuity I hadn't need to think, but...

- What is it, Captain? - Old lad, I've got it!

- The money? - No, the answer.

The stock's one security, I'm another.

As for the money, your governor's the man to advance it.

- Mr Dombey? - Well, look at your uncle.

If they was to sell off these things now, he'd die of it.

We mustn't leave a stone unturned, and there's a stone for you.

Mr Dombey? A stone?

We'll go to the office now and see him.

But it's Saturday. Mr Dombey won't be there. He'll have gone to Brighton.

Then, Wal'r, we'll go to Brighton.

- But I'd rather we waited till Monday. - I'll back you, my boy, I'll back you.

Aye, we'll fight it through!

We'll lay our heads to the wind.

We'll go to Brighton by the afternoon coach.

Floy, where's India, where Bitherstone's parents live?

Oh, it's a long distance off.

- Weeks off? - Yes, dear.

Many weeks' journey, day and night.

If you were in India, Floy, I should die, I think.

I---

(\NAVES CRASH)

What is it, Paul? What do you hear?

The sea. What is it that it keeps saying?

Nothing. It said nothing.

- There's only the noise of the waves. - But they're always saying something.

Always the same thing.

What place is over there?

What place? France, I think.

No, I don't mean that.

I mean farther away.

Much, much farther.

Papa will be waiting for us at his hotel.

Walter! Papa, look, it's Walter!

Florence, you are becoming boisterous.

(CLEARS THROAT) Gay.

Forgive me, sir. If I might have a word with you.

What's the matter? Who sent you? Was there no one else to come?

Oh, sir, I've not been sent. I've been so bold as to come on my own account.

- Which I hope you'll pardon when I... - Who is that?

I think you've made some mistake in the door, sir.

- Oh, this is Captain Cuttle, sir. - Wal'r, lad, stand by.

- Sir, my... - You...

What have you got to say to me?

I'm afraid, sir, that I have taken a great liberty in coming here. It's...

It is entirely a private and personal matter that has brought me

-and Captain Cuttle... - Here.

"Was so good as to offer to come with me, which I could hardly refuse.

No call for refusing. Go on, Wal'r.

My uncle, sir, is in great distress.

He's in danger of losing all he has.

The broker is in his house to execute an order for debt.

It's a large sum. It's more than £300.

But if you could, in your kindness,

do anything to help him out of his difficulty,

we could never thank you enough.

-(\NHISPERS) VVaFr... - Apart from the stock in my uncle's shop.

Captain Cuttle would wish to be security also.

Half a loaf's better than no bread, and the same remark holds good for crumbs.

Well, there's a few.

So you want my assistance, huh?

- Paul. - Yes, Papa?

If you had money now... Look at me, Paul.

If you had as much money as young Gay has talked about,

what would you do with it?

- Give it to his uncle. - Lend it to his uncle, eh?

Well, one day, when you're old enough,

you shall share my money and we shall use it together.

- Dombey and Son. - Dombey and Son.

Would you like to begin being Dombey and Son now

-and lend this money to young Gay's uncle? - Oh, yes, Papa.

- And so would Florence. - Yes, Papa.

Girls have nothing to do with Dombey and Son.

- Would you like to? - Yes, Papa. Yes.

Then you shall do it.

And you will see, Paul, how powerful money is

and how anxious people are to get it.

Young Gay comes all this way to beg for money.

And you, who are so grand and great having got it, are going to let him have it,

as a great favour and obligation.

The debt will be paid on Monday morning.

You'll consider that this is done for you by Master Paul.

- Sir, I cannot express my grat... - Please, I wish to hear no more.

Good day to you.

Er...Mr Gay! One moment, if you please.

Er...l think, dear brother, you have overlooked something.

The gentleman with the... (CLEARS THROAT) instrument

has left...

My dear Louisa, I'm obliged to you. How like your usual discretion.

Sir!

Have the goodness to take these things away.

God bless you, sir.

Oh!

- Walter! - Florence, where are you going?

I must send a greeting to Mr Gay's uncle, Papa. He was so kind to me.

- Walter! - Florence!

Will she never be a Dombey?

Florence seems to be quite taken with that young man, Paul.

- I had already noticed. - She should not be encouraged.

- He is a clerk! - He is my clerk.

He is easily disposed of.