Original subtitles

My apologies, ladies.

A most unpleasant scene.

But I thought you should know the truth about that man.

Mr Copperfield, I believe you did it for her.

To save her.

I hope she is saved, ma'am.

But the truth is, I did it for myself, to save myself.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

Miss Horton, ma'am.

Such a very distinguished man.

the personal history and experiences of David Copperfield

the Younger.

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life or whether that station

will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.

To begin my life with the beginning of my life, I here record that I was born

at Blunderston in Suffolk.

I was a posthumous child.

My father's eyes had closed upon the light of this world six months when mine

opened on it.

An aunt of my father's, and consequently a great aunt of mine, Miss Betsy

Trotwood was the principal magnate of our family.

My father had once been a favourite of hers, I believe.

but she was mortally affronted when he married my mother without first

presenting her for inspection and approval.

Miss Betsy and my father never met again and she'd never seen my mother

The rookery

indeed Where are the

rooks?

I see no such bird

This, then, was the state of matters on what I may be excused for calling that

important day.

Mrs. David Copperfield, I think.

Yes? Miss Betsy Trotwood.

You have heard of her, I dare say.

I have had that pleasure.

And now you see her.

Don't do that. Stop it.

Stop it.

There.

Yes, now.

Let me look at you.

Come. Come, come.

Well, bless

my

heart.

You're a very baby.

I'm a childish widow.

And I will be a childish mother if I live.

Nonsense.

Set you down. Child, set you down. Be in the chair by the fire.

The rookery, indeed.

Where are the rooks?

The what, ma'am? Rooks, large black birds of the crow family.

There are none here now.

In the name of heaven, why the rookery?

You mean the house?

Well, of course I mean the house. What do you mean?

The name was Mr.

Copperfield's choice on account of the old nest in the garden.

David Copperfield all over.

Calls a house a rookery and there's not a rook near it. Takes the birds on trust

because he sees the nest.

Mr. Copperfield is dead.

Nonsense.

What you need is tea.

What's your servant's name? Pegarty.

Pegarty?

Do you mean to tell me that any human being has gone into a Christian church

and got themselves named Pegarty?

It's my surname, ma'am.

Mr. Copperfield called me by it, because my Christian name's Clara, same as my

mistress.

Yes, well, Piggity, bet your mistress a strong cup of tea.

Do, daughter.

I have no doubt the child shall be a girl.

Perhaps a boy.

Don't contradict. I have a strong presentiment that child must be a girl.

And I shall be her godmother.

You will call her Betsy Trotwood.

Now,

on to money matters. Has David left you properly provided for?

I have this house and its contents and a sufficient income.

I think a hundred a year.

That seems satisfactory.

Now to my goddaughter's education.

Mom. Mom.

Mom.

Doctor,

well?

I'm happy to congratulate you, Mom.

What? A fine boy. Speak up, can't you?

A boy.

What is the matter with Mom? Why does he whisper?

A boy.

What? A boy!

Impossible. I don't show you. I won't hear you.

Oh, boy!

Here we are.

Oh, it's beautiful.

We shall be called David after his dear father, David

Copperfield.

Even now, when I look back on those first nine years of my childhood, I see

nothing but sunlight.

Sunlight winking in the window of the parlor where my mother gives me my first

lessons, or flooding a garden, glinting on her curls as she gathers fruit.

Riper and richer than fruit has ever been since, in any other garden.

Even the old churchyard where my father lay.

and where each Sunday we brought flowers in his memory, even that sad place

seemed in my childish vision to be perpetually suffused in sunlight.

Until the shadow fell.

Good day, Mrs. Copperfield.

Mr. Marston.

Good day, David.

I trust I find you well, my boy.

He's shy.

And she sang like an angel. Minnie.

Yes.

See, this is it.

So, goodbye, Mrs. Copperfield.

Mr. Masdy.

Goodbye, Davy.

Come, come, my boy.

Let's be friends.

Davy?

Well, that's the wrong hand, Davy.

There's a brave little fellow.

Davy? Master Davy?

Yes, Peggy?

How should you like to go along with me and spend a fortnight at my brother's at

Yarmouth? Wouldn't that be a treat?

Peggy, is your brother an enjoyable man?

That he is. And then there's the sea and the boats and the fishermen and the

beach.

I'll say.

And as good as better guinea, she'll let us go.

So what's she to do with herself while we're away?

She can't live on her own.

Bless you.

Don't you know she's going to stay for a full night with Mrs Graper?

Mrs Graper?

Hmm.

Mrs Graper's going to have a lot of company.

Then we can go.

Yes.

Poor David.

How innocent you were.

How eager to leave your happy home.

And poor Peggy.

I see the whole plot now.

Peggy was to be ambassadress for my mother and break the news to me during

our stay in Yarmouth.

Master Davy? Isn't it a wonderful place, Figgity?

Tis the finest along this coast, that's well known.

Master Davy? Yes, Figgity?

Look, there's Ham!

Stop, Mr. Barkers! There's my nephew, Ham!

Ham!

She never had a sweetheart.

Never had a sweetheart.

If it had been Aladdin's palace, I could not have been more charmed with the

romantic idea of living in it.

The true wonder of it was that it was a real boat that must have been upon the

oceans hundreds, thousands of times.

Glad to see you, sir.

You'll find us rough, sir, but you'll find us ready.

This is little Emily, sir.

Emily, say howdy-do to Mr.

Copperfield.

Well, sister.

Mr.

Pegty? Sir?

Did you give your son the name Ham because you live in the Noah's Ark?

No, sir.

His father gave him that name.

But I thought you were his father.

My brother Joe was his father.

Dead. Mr. Peggy.

Drowned it. But little Emily, she's your daughter, isn't she?

No, sir.

My brother-in-law Tom was her father.

Not dead, Mr.

Peggy.

Drowned it.

Haven't you any children, then?

No, sir.

I'm a bachelor. A bachelor?

Danal was partnered from a boat.

But old damage died and left her very poor.

So Danal took her in.

Like Ham and little Emily when they was orphaned. He must be a very good man, I

should think.

The best of men.

To bed with you now.

Good night.

Davy?

Yes, Pockety?

My brother Daniel, he don't like to have that goodness and generosity of his

spoken of.

Not by anybody, not in his hearing.

I won't mention it.

Don't. It makes him swear something terrible to do.

Sometimes, at night, when there's a storm blowing, I wake, and I think I

hear Uncle Daniel and Ham pouring out for help.

Does it make you remember your father?

I never knowed him.

That's like me.

But you and your mother had to?

I lost my mother too.

Besides, your father was a gentleman, and more than a fisherman.

Like Uncle Daniel.

Peggy says I should never mention what a good man he is. Good!

If I was ever to be a lady, I'd give him a sky blue coat, with diamond buttons, a

red velvet waistcoat, a cocked hat, a gold watch and a box of money.

Would you like to be a lady, Emily?

Yes, very much.

Emily! Wait!

I'm sure I loved her with a greater tenderness and purity than can enter

into even the noblest love of a later time of life.

The days sported by us as if time himself had not grown on it, but was a

child too, and always at play.

Dear Peggy, I suppose it was because she saw us so happy and would not spoil it

that she never did carry out the commission my mother had entrusted to

her.

It was only when we were approaching the very gate of the house that at last she

told me.

Mr. Barkis, sound your horn, please.

Sound your horn, then she'll come.

Wait, wait, Master Davy, and I'll tell you something.

What?

Where is she?

She's not dead.

Dead? Of course she's not. Oh, bless the boy.

Now, Davy, I should have told you something before, but

I couldn't bring my mind to it.

What do you think?

You've got a power.

A new one.

Ooh.

Lamar!

TV!

Clara?

My dear?

Control yourself.

Well, you may kiss your mother, David.

Always control yourself.

Well now, David, how do you do?

Gingy?

Mr. Murdstone's sister is to live with us, Davy.

She's to have this room, while you're to have a new room.

But why?

Come with me.

Davy Clara What

is this Clara

my love have you forgotten

Firmness

I'm sorry

I meant to be very good.

I'm so uncomfortable.

Go you below, my dear.

David and I will be down in a moment.

David.

If I have an obstinate horse or dog, what do you think

I do?

I don't know.

I beat him.

I make him wince and smart.

And I say to myself, I'll conquer that fellow.

If it cost him all the blood he has, I'll do it.

A few days later, she came.

Miss Jane Murdstone.

I remember when she paid the coachman, she took her money out of a hard steel

purse. She kept the purse in a very jail of a bag, which hung upon her arm by

heavy chains and shut up like a bite.

I've never seen before, nor have I ever seen since, such a metallic lady as Jane

Murdston.

Dear Jane, welcome.

Is this your boy, Sister-in-law?

This is Davy.

Generally speaking, I don't like boys.

How do you do, boy?

Fine, thank you, Mum.

And I hope you are the same.

Relax,

manna.

Brother.

Lift up.

Clara, my dear, I'm come here to relieve you of all the trouble I can.

You're much too pretty and thoughtless to have any duties imposed upon you that

can be undertaken by me.

Give me your keys, my dear.

Clara?

It's very hard that in my own house... In my own house?

Clara!

Our own house, I mean.

It's very hard that I may not have a word to say about domestic matters.

I'm sure I managed very well before we were married.

Edward, let there be an end of it.

I go tomorrow.

Jane Murdstone, sit down and be silent.

I'm sure I don't want anybody to go.

I don't ask much, only...

To be consulted sometimes.

Edward, I... Jane Murdstone, will you be silent?

Clara, you astound me.

When Jane Murdstone is kind enough to assume, for my sake, something like the

condition of a housekeeper's.

And when she meets with a base return... No, don't say that, my love. This is not

a fit scene for the boy.

David, go to bed.

But, sir... To bed, I say!

Davey...

Davy be firm with the boy He knows his lesson or

he does not know it. He does not know it

Jane

Murdstone is right.

He does not know it

More firmness is required here, I think. Much more. Edward, please, no!

Clara, I have often been flogged myself.

Edward, please!

Clara! My dear Jane, Clara is greatly strengthened and improved, but we can

hardly expect her to bear with perfect firmness the worry and torment that

David has brought upon her with his idleness and inattention.

David!

You and I shall go upstairs, boy.

But sir, please!

No!

Edward, no!

Clara, are you a perfect fool?

Mr. Marston!

Don't you?

He beat me then as if he'd have beaten me to death.

How well I recollect.

When I became quiet, what an unnatural stillness seemed to reign through the

whole house.

It grew dark, the night wore on, and nobody came near me.

Fearful questions tortured me.

Was it a criminal act that I'd committed?

Would I be sent to prison?

Would I be hanged?

Is that you, Peggy?

Soft as a mouse. All the cattle hear us.

Is Mama very angry with me?

No, not very.

But what's to be done with me?

School.

Near London.

Oh, Jamie.

Mama, please forgive me.

Clara. I do forgive you.

Clara. But try to be better.

Pray to be better.

I do forgive you.

Goodbye, my child.

David.

David.

That's enough.

Now that's enough. It's enough, I say.

Go on, up you go.

I hope you'll repent or you'll come to a bad end.

Drive on.

Never forget me baby.

I'll never forget you And I'll take as much care of your ma as I ever took for

you, and I will never leave her

Is

she

a good book?

It's a pie, Mr. Marcus.

Oh, maybe I will.

Perhaps you might be writing to her.

I'll certainly be writing to her.

Ah, well.

You are writing to her.

Perhaps you recollect to say that...

is willing.

Marcus is willing?

Is that all your message?

Yeah.

Marcus is willing.

Come on, hurry up. Move it.

Come on, move.

Is this the new boy, Mr.

Tungay? It is, Mr.

Creakleshark. Fetch him up.

Right there.

And you?

Tommy Treadles.

Good luck.

Come on.

In you go.

So,

this is the young gentleman who's in.

or to be far away from you.

Come here.

Lively now.

I have seen your happiness of knowing your step-father, Mr. Mercedown,

and a worthy man he is, a man of strong character.

He knows me, and I know him.

Do you know me, boy?

No, I guess so. Not yet, eh?

But you will soon, eh?

You will soon, eh?

I'll tell you what I am.

I'm a tartar.

A tartar. I'm a determined character. That's what I am. When I say, I do a

thing. I do it. Do it.

Will I not do it, Mrs. Creakle?

You will, Mr. Creakle.

Beware of him.

He bites.

Mr. Tungay, please oblige.

It seems you're famous for biting balls.

Well, I'm famous for biting.

Ah! Carol!

What about this?

Try a tooth.

Is it not sharp?

Will it bite, eh?

Steerforth was the name of my saviour, James Steerforth.

He was the oldest boy in the school, the son of a rich widow.

Steerforth was afraid of nobody.

Well, stand up, Truddles, for God's sake.

You.

Up you get, young'un.

What's this?

What is this?

I call it a rotten shame, don't you boys?

Yes!

Good day, Mr. Creakle.

Tuck yourself in.

Don't you worry.

I'll look after you.

From that moment, I was bound to him by an unbreakable bond of loyalty and

gratitude.

He did make life in that brutal place at least tolerable.

He loved a story, but it was far too idle, he said, to read himself.

So I read to him.

Then came a morning when I was summoned to Mr. Creakle in the parlour. Master

Copperfield! Yes, sir? You wanted in Mr.

Creakle's parlour.

Come on, come on, hurry up!

Come here and sit down, David.

I have something to tell you, my child.

You're too young to know how the world changes every day.

And the people in it pass away.

But it's something we've all got to learn, David.

Some of us, when we're very young.

I grieve to have to tell you.

that I hear this morning that your mama is gravely ill.

She is very dangerously ill.

She is dead.

Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live and is full of

misery.

He cometh up, and is cut down like a flower.

He fleeth that it were a shadow, and never continueth in one day.

In the midst of life we are in death.

After you went, she got more timid and frightened-like.

A hard word was like a blow to her.

But still she would love them two downstairs.

because she couldn't bear not to love anyone who was about her.

At last, she says to me, Agaté, my dear,

lay your good arm underneath my neck and turn me to you, for your face

is going far off.

And she called on God.

to bless and protect her father's boy.

And then she died.

Like a child that had gone to sleep.

I hope that you and Mr. Barkis will be very happy together, Peggy T.

Bless the boy.

They do say he's a bit tight with money.

So, take this now, Davy, before I'm Mrs. Barkis.

A whole sovereign.

Shh.

I can't.

You take it and guard it well till the day you need it.

Don't agree. Don't agree.

It's a waste of time. What's more, it's a waste of money. Put it all to auction.

House and contents.

Stock and barrel.

It's quick, and you'll get your price.

Um...

Oh.

David.

Come here, boy.

You have a disposition which requires a great deal of correcting.

What he wants is to be crushed. And crushed it must be, and crushed it will

be. Jane, leave this to me, if you please.

I am not a rich man, David.

And education is costly.

In any case, I can see no advantage to leaving you at school.

So, I have a business in London.

Murdstone and Grimby.

Mr Quinion, my friend, manages it for me.

Mr Quinion has suggested that since it gives employment to other boys, it can

also give employment to you.

Seeing that he has no other prospects.

Your wages will be six shillings per week.

Your lodgings, which I have arranged, will be paid for by me.

In short, you're provided for and will do your duty.

There we are.

Merdston and Grimby, we have arrived.

Here lies your future. Merdston and Grimby.

Our chief business is the supply of wines and spirits to merchant ships.

Come here, Mick.

Here's Mick Walker.

This is David Popperfield. He's the work below.

He's down and instructed in his duties.

Confidentiously. Not to be repeated to Mr. Q.

I'm off I am. Soon as I may.

I'm gonna be a bargeman. Like me old pop.

And walk in the Lord Mayor's show.

In black velvet headdress. Like he done.

Here. Mealy. What?

This is Mealy Potatoes.

He do have a name. But we all calls him Mealy Potatoes.

Cos he looks like an half-boiled spud.

Do he have a name, then?

Copper something.

Field. Copperfield.

David Copperfield.

Show him what he has to do.

Whoa! Good luck, Cocky.

David Copperfield.

Esquire, at your service.

Me lords, ladies...

And gentlemen.

Show us your hands.

Show us your hands!

Now,

milady, observe, if you please.

You try, milady.

No

words can

express the secret agony of my soul, the sense I had of being utterly without

hope, the misery it was to my young heart to know that day by day all I had

learnt and thought and delighted in, would pass away from me, little by

little, never to be brought back any more.

But then, in that utter darkness, came a gleam of light.

It came in the form of a stylish, middle-aged person with no more hair

upon his head than there is upon an egg.

This is Mr. McCobber.

Mr. McCobber is known to Mr. Murdstone. He takes orders from us on commission

when he can get any. You will be lodging in his house.

Mr. McCobber, this is David Copperfield.

Honored, Mr.

Copperfield. Under the impression that your peregrination...

in this metropolis have not as yet been extensive, and that you might have some

difficulty in penetrating the arcana of the modern Babylon, in short, that you

might lose yourself, I am here to accompany you to my humble abode.

Thank you, sir.

Come in, sir.

Take Copperfield's box for him. Yes, sir.

Mr Copperfield! Stop!

Pay no debt! Pay me!

I'll have the law on you!

Stop! Mr Copperfield, if there is one great universal truth to be discovered

as we journey through this vale of tears, it is this. Annual income, 20

pounds. Annual expenditure, 19 pounds, 19 and 6.

Result, happiness.

Annual income, 20 pounds. Annual expenditure...

Twenty pounds and six pence.

Result? Mary!

Come here! Go to the store and pay your debt, sir!

The

circumstances

have rendered it imperative to enter the humble abode.

We will not say surreptitiously, but discreetly and circuitously.

In short, by the back door.

Permit me to present to you, Master David Copperfield.

Master Copperfield. Master Copperfield, I make known to you, a partner of my

life, my strong right hand, my helpmate, in short, Mrs. McCobber.

How do you do, ma'am? McCobber!

Upstairs, upstairs.

Mr.

McCobber, difficult hit.

almost overwhelming at present.

Whether it is possible to bring him through them, I cannot say.

If Mr. McCobb's creditors will not give him time, then they must take the

consequences. And the sooner they bring it to an issue, the better.

Is Mr. McCobb a great friend of Mr.

Marston, ma'am?

Friends?

I would hardly say friends. A mere commercial acquaintance.

cannot be obtained from a stone, and neither can anything on account be

obtained at present from Mr. Macorber.

My family are of the opinion that Mr. Macorber should

quick London and exercise his talents in the country.

Mr. Macorber is a man of great talent, Master Copperfield.

I'm sure he is. My family are of the opinion that, with a little interest,

something might be done for a man of his ability in the Custom House.

Yes.

In the meantime, I remain confident that something will turn up.

My dear, I give you Master Copperfield.

You're welcome under our roof, sir.

Forgive me, Mum, I... If I can assist you in

your troubles, I will.

Master Copperfield, bless you for that.

I cannot treat you as a stranger, and therefore do not hesitate to say

that Mr Macorber's difficulties are coming to a...

I'm very sorry to hear that, ma'am.

With the exception of the heel of a Dutch cheese, which is not adapted to

the wants of the young family, there is nothing to eat in the house.

Mr. Macorber has taken the children to the pie shop in the hope of obtaining a

little more credit.

Take this, ma'am.

Please.

Please.

I was alone, ma'am. I couldn't think

of it.

But you could render me another kind of service.

Anything, ma'am.

Mr. Macawber's delicate feelings would never allow him to... Pawn them, ma'am.

Well, let us say, rather, dispose of them.

And such transactions are too painful for me.

But if I might ask you, Master Copperfield... Anything, ma'am.

It's my house.

I live there.

What happened?

Get this present.

All of them.

At last, at last, my dear sir. You're from the Charles Street Court.

Out of my way.

Don't you cry no ear to him, young sir.

Copperfield. Oh,

Copperfield. The blossom is blighted. The leaf is withered. God of day goes

down upon the dreary scene. And in short, I am forever flawed.

I never will desert you, Mr. McCorper.

You are my angel.

He is the father of my children.

He is the husband of my affections. And I never will desert Mr.

McCorper.

I went to the pawn shop and you asked.

What?

Copperfield, you are a Trojan.

The rent is paid on Windsor Terrace until the end of the month. You have a

legal right to occupy your room, Master Copperfield.

Let no man prevent it.

You send out to the pie shop for some dinner a few cutlets, I think, and a

mutton pudding for the children and a pint of brandy punch, huh?

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

To add to the daily miseries of my own existence, I was now haunted by the

awful fate that had befallen Mr. McCorber and his family.

I imagined them shut away forever in that dismal prison, the children growing

up pale and thin like the roots that sprout from a potato in a dark cupboard.

Teacher, then, my astonishment and joy, when upon leaving the warehouse one

night, I beheld Mr. McCorber himself.

It was a relation of Mrs.

McCarver's, an aunt who, upon hearing of our plight, advanced to some sufficient

to obtain our release from that place of desolation.

She stipulated only that we should at once quit the modern Babylon and go down

into the country.

All aboard!

Thanks to my aunt, we are safe for the moment.

But we could not...

to the metropolis without taking our leave of you, Master Copperfield.

Your conduct has always been most delicate and obliging.

You have never been a lodger.

You've been a friend.

All aboard!

My dear Copperfield, farewell.

every happiness and prosperity.

If in the progress of revolving years I could persuade myself that my blighted

destiny has been a warning to you, I should feel that our friendship, though

brief, had not been in vain.

All aboard!

Yeah!

Lisa, we see Macorber, sir. I really think we should go now.

In case of anything turning up, of which I am rather confident...

I shall be extremely happy if it should lie in my power to improve your

prospects. All aboard!

Farewell.

Bye.

Goodbye.

Farewell now.

An aunt.

It was Mr. McCorber's mention of an aunt that recalled to my mind that legendary

figure of my own family, Miss Betsy Trotwood.

I know.

I know.

This aunt of yours, you say she lives down the coast?

Near Dover.

Dover, eh? That's far away.

I've got money enough for the journey.

Mick Walker, what is that in your hat?

Nothing.

Nothing indeed.

How many days I was upon the road from London to the Kent coast, I could not

now say with any degree of accuracy.

I had no coat to my back. My shoes were soon kicked into holes.

and my entire worldly capital consisted of three halfpennies which were stolen

from me by a tinker's boy.

I remember a general sensation of my belly hollow and groaning from hunger,

and of the way ahead appearing to stretch into infinity.

When at last I reached my aunt's cottage, my state was pitiful indeed.

To this hour...

I don't know whether my aunt had any lawful rights over the patch of green in

front of her cottage, but the one great outrage of her life, demanding to be

constantly avenged, was the passage of a donkey over that immaculate spot.

Donkeys!

Donkeys!

Donkeys!

Donkeys!

Stop with you!

My pa'll have the law on you. You see if he won't.

What? I'm David Copperfield from Blandaston in Suffolk and my mother's

told me how you came to see her on the night I was born. It was midnight and

there was a storm and you wanted me to be a girl.

Get in the water.

Janet, the tonic.

Mr. Dick, here you see young David Copperfield.

And the question I put to you is, what should I do with him?

What shall you do with him?

Oh, do with him. Yes, come.

I want some very sound advice.

Why, if I were you, I should wash him.

Mr. Dick sets us all right.

There we are, Mr. Kagan.

Good night, Aunt.

Yes, yes, yes. Good night, good night.

Yep, yep.

We're off to Canterbury to consult with Mr. Wickfield.

How's this for a kite, Davy?

There's plenty of string you see and when it flies high it carries my words

far far away That's my manner of diffusing them

we'll be home well before dark

Mr. Wickfield is my lawyer.

Here you are. There's nothing to be said and nothing to be done about anything

until I first put the case to Mr.

Wickfield.

Good day, Miss Chotwood.

Is Mr. Wickfield at home, Uriah Heep? He is, ma'am.

Fun, girl.

This is my nephew.

I should say my great-nephew, David Copperfield.

Honoured, I'm sure, Master Copperfield.

Mr Wickfield is in his room.

Yes. You stay here.

Master Copperfield is welcome to wait in my room, if he should catch him.

Yes. Well, all right.

This way, Master Copperfield.

That is Mr.

Wickfield's daughter, Agnes.

Your aunt is a great admiration for Miss Agnes.

As do we all.

Even so humble a person as myself.

I suppose you're quite a great lawyer then, Mr. Heap.

Me, Master Copperfield? Oh dear, no, no.

I'm the very humblest person going, Master Copperfield.

My mother, likewise, was a very humble person. My father's former calling was

humble.

He was a sexton.

What is he now?

He is a partaker of glory at present, Master Copperfield.

Dead, Mr Heap.

Alas, Master Copperfield.

How long have you been with Mr Wickfield?

Going on for a year, Master Copperfield.

Why, thank you.

For the inquiry.

I expect you'll be a partner in the business one day.

Wickfield and Heap.

Oh no, Master Gotthefield.

I'm far too humble for that.

Has anything been decided yet, Aunt?

No. Nothing yet.

Generally speaking, persons who run away from things are not popular with me. You

must grasp the nettle of life, and it won't sting you.

Janet! Donkeys!

Donkeys!

Go away! How dare you trust us! Get along now! You've no place here!

Donkeys! Get off my land! How dare you trust us! Go on! Get away!

Go on with you! How dare you!

You get off my land or you'll be sorry for it! Go on! Go on! You bold-faced,

brazen... Aunt!

What is it?

Miss Trotwood, this unhappy boy has a sullen and rebellious spirit, a

violent temper, and an untoward and intractable disposition.

Of all the boys in the world, I believe this is the worst boy.

Strong, but not at all strong for the facts, ma'am.

I am come to take him back, ma'am.

To take him back unconditionally.

to dispose of him as I think proper, and to deal with him as I think right.

Really? I must caution you, Miss Trotwood.

If you step in between him and me now, you step in forever.

What?

I will not travel.

Is he ready to go?

For if he is not, my door will be closed against him forever.

And I take it for granted that yours is open on the same basis.

Good Lord.

David?

Are you ready to go?

Please, Aunt, I beg of you with all my heart, please don't make me go with him.

Mr.

Dick, what shall I do with this boy?

Have him measured for a suit of clothes directly.

Oh, mister, give me your hand. Your common sense is invaluable.

Yes, it is.

Don't think I don't know what kind of life you must have led that poor,

unhappy, misdirected baby. His mother smirking and

lurking, making eyes at her. I'll be bound as if you... I couldn't say boo to

a goose.

I never heard anything so elegant in my life.

Miss Trotwood, if you were a gentleman... Oh, stuff and nonsense.

Don't talk to me.

What a choice of words.

And as for you, madam, let me see you ride a donkey across my green again and

as sure as you have a head on your shoulders, I'll knock your bonnet off

and tread on it.

I never heard anything like this person in my life.

Mr. Dick, the gate.

No, no, no, no, no.

Mr. Dick, consider yourself guardian to this child, jointly with myself.

Guardian?

Jointly?

Delighted.

Yes, very well.

I've been thinking I might call you Trotwood.

Trotwood Copperfield.

How would that suit you?

Thus, I began my new life.

In a new name, and with everything new about me.

I drew a curtain down upon my life at Murdstone and Grimby.

Even in this narrative, I have lifted it with a reluctant hand.

My aunt sent me to Dr. Strong's school in Canterbury.

and during term time I lodged with Mr. Wickfield and his daughter Agnes.

Agnes.

Her mother had died in giving her birth, and like me she was an only child.

She quickly became my greatest friend, my wisest counsellor, my dearest sister.

And so the years passed.

When I was grown to something like man's estate, my aunt decided I should be a

lawyer, sent me to London, and purchased articles for me in the firm of Spello

and Jorkins of Doctors' Commons.

Copperfield. Excellent.

Come in. Come in.

On the desk, if you please, Copperfield.

To the Lord Chancellor's office, if you please.

Quick as your knife.

Sir, I'm terribly sorry. My dear sir, I do apologise.

No, no, it was my fault, absolutely.

I'm terribly sorry.

Shaddles?

Copperfield?

David Copperfield!

How are you?

It's wonderful to see you.

Can you tell I'm still, uh... Well, you're still pretty much the same as you

were before.

It was Tommy Travels indeed, my old school friend.

My aunt had found lodgings for me in Buckingham Street and made me a modest

but sufficient allowance.

And as I was about to take a short holiday, my employer, Mr. Spenlow, had

invited me to pass a night at his country house.

Handsome, eh?

Fletcher versus Fletcher.

A dispute between two cousins over a boundary.

Fletcher versus Fletcher.

Highly lucrative.

But then, of course, the very best sort of professional business is... A

disputed will.

Very pretty pickings indeed to be had there in the way of argument and counter

-argument and the evidence of interrogatory and counter-interrogatory

and so on. And since the costs invariably come out of the estate

itself, both sides can go at it in a lively and spirited manner with expense.

No consideration at all.

Welcome to my

Bobbapil. My daughter, Dora.

I was swallowed up in an abyss.

There was no pausing on the brink, no looking down or back.

I was gone headlong.

I loved Dora Spenlow to distraction.

And then... And this is her confidential friend and companion, Miss Murdstone.

Alas, Dora has no mother living.

I'm already acquainted with Mr Copperfield.

It was in his childish years.

Circumstances have separated us since.

I should never have known him.

How she enchanted me.

I was lost in blissful delirium.

But not quite lost.

There was still that spectre hovering.

what's his name excuse me my dear

But I must take you away to introduce you to somebody you'd like to meet.

David Copperfield. A word.

I won't attempt to disguise the fact that I formed an unfavorable opinion of

you in your childhood.

It may have been a mistaken one, or you may have ceased to justify it.

That is not the question between us now.

I may have my opinion of you.

You may have your opinion of me.

But it is not necessary that those opinions should come into conflict.

It would be better if they did not.

Let us, therefore, meet here as mere distant acquaintances.

Do you agree?

I said I would return, Mr. Coffinfield.

Are you and Mrs. Mudstone talking over old times?

Old times?

Hardly that, Dora, my dear.

Our acquaintance was very slight.

Was it not, Mr. Copperfield?

That was the moment to speak out, to say the truth.

No, shout it.

Very slight.

There was triumph in her eyes and contempt.

I can see it now.

I can acknowledge the justice of it.

I'd taken the easy path, the coward's path.

Dear God, what evil was to flow from that fatal weakness?

Ah, Miss Venlo. I'm surprised to see you out here so early.

It's the brightest time of the day.

Don't you think so?

It's bright to me now.

The moment before, it was not so bright.

Do you mean a compliment?

Or has the weather changed?

I'm not aware of any change in the weather.

You've just come home from Paris, I believe. Yes.

Have you been there?

No, no.

Oh, you should go. You would love it so much.

Do you travel a great deal, Mr Copperfield?

Well, I'm going down to Yarmouth in a day or two to see old friends.

Yarmouth is quite on the coast, is it not?

Yes.

Miss Spenlow.

Dora!

Dora!

Tiresome creature.

I can't think why Papa chose such a vexatious thing to be my companion.

Dora!

It is very disagreeable having such a gloomy old person always following one

about. Here, perhaps you should say something to your father.

I wouldn't dare.

Your father wants you.

Hurry now.

Goodbye, Mr. Copperfield.

Remember, we meet here as mere distant acquaintances.

The past is buried.

I barely heard her. Mr. Copperfield. My head was full of Dora.

Dora. Mr. Copperfield. Dora.

Dora. Do you hear me, Mr. Copperfield?

I returned to my lodgings in town in a sort of trance.

I made some attempts to work at the book I was writing, but it was no good,

because in every sentence the word Dora would inadvertently appear.

At length, I determined to seek distraction at the playhouse.

Mr. Mudstone.

David.

You're going out?

I... I was going to the play.

I shall not detain you.

I received a note from my sister this afternoon.

The chances of life, it seems, have brought you together again.

Yes.

My sister has no wish to revive the memory of past...

differences?

I've already agreed as such with Miss Murdstone.

You will honor that agreement, I hope, David.

You may imagine that you have much to tell of her, and of me, to our

detriment.

But equally, we have much we could say about you.

Can you think that I would wish to resurrect the past, Mr. Murdstone?

It is far too painful to me.

Then I shall detain you.

No further.

The present, Mrs. Murdstone.

I would crave the honor of making her known to you.

But I must not keep you from the play.

That pale, forlorn figure haunts me to this day.

I knew what her life was.

I knew how he was crushing the spirit from her, as he had done to my poor

mother.

I wanted to speak.

But I dared not, and knew not what to say.

So I went to the play.

As I came out after the performance, I encountered another ghost of my

childhood. But here was no grim specter to resurrect all the pain of it, but a

bright spirit to revive the few fleeting moments of content.

It was James Steerforth.

Steerforth? My friend and protector of Salem House School.

Steerforth!

Steerforth! Wait!

It is, steer forth.

You don't recognise me, I'm afraid.

Oh, my God, it's little Copperfield.

Well, you're just what you always were, now I look at you, not changed in the

least. My dearest, steer forth.

I never, never, never was so glad.

I'm overjoyed to see you again. What the devil are you doing here?

I was at the play.

What a delightful and magnificent entertainment.

My dear young Davy.

You're a daisy.

A daisy at the field of sunrise is not fresher than you are.

I thought it was the worst play I ever saw in my life.

It was a perfectly miserable business.

Forgive me, Stifforth. The wine hall was closed.

I had to go to the tavern.

Are you writing a book, Daisy?

Oh, it's nothing.

Stories and sketches.

You always loved books.

And romances.

I remember when you used to read to me.

Not much use to company, I'm afraid.

When do you go to Yarmouth?

Tomorrow.

London's devilish style at the moment.

And I have some thoughts of buying a boat.

If you could bear my company, I'll come down with you.

My dear Steerforth, I'd be honored and delighted.

Well, that's settled, then.

And so we went together on that fateful journey.

I'll see you shortly. Take care.

Upon our arrival, we parted.

Steer forth to explore the town. I, to see Peggy and her husband Barkis, who

was ailing.

at you.

Oh!

Oh! Oh!

Oh! Oh, Barkis will be so glad.

It'll do him more good than a pint of liniment.

How is he?

Bad. Very bad.

It's the rheumatics.

Will you come up and see him, my dear?

Well,

Barkis, here's medicine for you.

Master David?

That you, sir?

It is, Mr. Barkis.

Oh.

You will forgive me for not shaking hands, sir.

But if you was to shake the tarsal of my nightcap, I'd

take it friendly.

I'm sorry to see you like this, Mr. Barkis. Well, I'd be sorry for myself,

sir.

If it weren't for a certain lady.

She's the usefulest and best of all women, sir.

The CP Barkis.

No Barkis.

And that's true, sir.

That's as true as turnips is.

It's as true as taxes is.

And nothing's truer than them.

A wild place, is it not, Stifel? The sea roars as if it were hungry for us.

There it is.

It's little Emily.

How are you?

Pretty well, Master Davy.

This is my friend, Steerforth.

Steerforth, this is Emily. I think I've mentioned her.

You were Daisy's childhood friend.

You played together and dreamed together.

He was to be a great writer and you were a fine lady.

You told him that?

How else would I know?

You were a foolish dream.

I'm older now.

And wiser.

I hope so.

We trade our dreams for what we call wisdom.

I wonder, is it a good exchange?

Master Davy!

Master Davy!

Master Davy!

Davy!

This little Emily of ours ain't my daughter, sir.

So I understand, Mr. Pegasus. But I couldn't love her more.

Well, I'm sure you couldn't.

Now, there's a certain person... that has known

our little Emily ever since the time her father was drownded. Not much of a

person to look at.

Something of my build. Rough.

Good deal of the Sal Wester about him. Very salt.

But he's a decent enough person.

And his heart's in the right place.

Now... What do you think this here blessed tarpaulin go and do?

He loses that there art of his to our little Amelie.

All of a sudden, one evening, comes Amelie from her work and him with her.

Now look here, he cries out, joyful.

This is to be my little wife.

And she says, half bold, half shy.

Yes, uncle.

If you please.

If I please.

Will you take up your glasses, one and all? Oh, and for you, Mrs.

Gummidge.

I gives you our Emily and her Anne.

Emily, I'm going to hide.

Most engaging little beauty, am I?

He's a rather chuckle-headed fellow, isn't he?

Still, it's a quaint place, and they certainly are quaint company.

And it's quite a new sensation, the mix room.

The next day, I took the coach to Blunderston, to the graveyard where my

father and mother lay side by side.

The breeze in the yew trees seemed to whisper of old days, those happy days

before my mother married Mr. Murdston.

And something else it seemed to whisper.

A name.

The name Dora Spenlow.

I got back to Yarmouth earlier than expected, my head still full of that

name, which to my fevered fancy sounded like a spell.

Anyway, it's been a delight.

I'll see you soon.

Daisy!

You're back!

We met by chance in the street.

Charming little creature. Pity she never had an education.

Listen, Daisy.

If anything should ever happen, separate us.

You must always think of me at my best, old boy.

Steerforth. No, come.

Let us make that bargain.

You have no best to me, Steerforth, no worst.

You're loved equally in my heart.

Good.

Good.

Do you like music, Mr Copperfield?

It's very beautiful.

Miss Spenlow.

I like this piece very much.

But it makes me so sad.

Dora.

My dearest, dearest Dora.

I love you.

I've loved you every minute of every day and every night since I first saw you,

Dora.

I'll die without you.

Don't kill me.

Say you love me too. Say you'll be mine.

I can't marry without Papa's consent.

Dora, you mean?

Dora, my beloved.

Let's go now and ask him. No, that's too soon.

Once you're established in the law.

But that could take years.

And I'm dying of love for you. We must be careful.

Papa would get cross. I know he would.

Don't look sad.

We will meet often.

And you may write to me.

I may.

But in secret, always in secret.

You must address your letters to my maid Hetty.

Dora.

Dora. Dora, my angel.

Good evening, Mr. Wickfield. David, this is Mr. Waterman.

David, sir?

I saw your aunt last week. She was well.

She's always well.

I won't keep you from Agnes.

She's just over there.

Thank you, sir.

They've always been like brothers and sisters. Oh.

Trotwood. Agnes.

How good it is to see you again.

Now, I must have your news quick, Trot, before we're interrupted.

First, how do you like Doctor's comments?

Second, are you still writing that book of yours?

And third, who are you in love with?

As to your first, I like Doctor's comments very well.

As to your second, I fear my book will never be finished.

And as to your third...

Why should you think I'm in love with anybody?

Are we not as brother and sister, Trot?

Don't I know you?

Perhaps I've changed.

Why, Trotwood, I do believe you are in love.

But certainly you may not give yourself over to it till you have finished your

book. Why do you say you never will?

It's a hopeless jumble of stories and sketches.

Is there not some common theme?

Well, yes.

What?

Modern life.

My idea is to turn them into a novel.

But I know not how.

Well, then don't.

Let them stand as they are.

Call them sketches of modern life.

But there aren't enough to make a book.

Write some more.

Ah, Master Copperfield.

Oh, well, Mr.

Copperfield, I should say.

Uriah Heep?

Only the other comes so natural.

How are you? Oh, honoured indeed, sir, to be noticed by you in such company. I

mean, so many great stars of the legal firmament. One is quite crushed by a

feeling of extreme humbleness. My father.

Unwanted, it seems. If you will excuse me, Master. No, Mr.

Cotterfield.

What the devil is he doing here?

Papa has made him his partner.

It's true.

But how?

Why?

He's mastered my poor father's weaknesses.

Lost them.

Taken advantage of them until...

Vipara's afraid of him.

For my sake, for Vipara's sake, be friendly to Uriah.

I must take her from you, Trotwood.

Good copper field.

Delightful. Come and meet Sir George Dixon.

George. I'm the Spenlow, don't you? I know a fellow.

Dearest, dearest Dora. Be careful.

If the past you suspect.

I never dreamt you might be here.

Papa would bring me to think how I resisted and complained.

Did you get my letter?

Hush. Did you?

Foolish boy.

Such a flood of words.

I swear I didn't understand one half of them.

Trot?

Dora.

Miss Penlow.

May I present Mrs. Wickfield.

Agnes, this is Miss Spenlow.

When I was at school at Canterbury, I lodged with Miss Wickfield and her

father. How nice.

Have you recently arrived, Miss Spenlow? Just now.

Excuse me, ladies.

Copperfield, I want you to meet Sir George Dixon.

Excuse me.

Are you connected in any way to Spenlow and Jorkins? He's my papa.

Very nice.

How did you find Miss Wickfield?

Very, very agreeable. Yeah. And so clever.

I think if I had her as a friend a long time ago, I might be clever myself by

now.

Nonsense. There's so many books she's read, and such books, poetry and history

and philosophy.

She quite frightens me.

I've seen you sometimes with a book.

But only some foolish romance full of dukes and diamonds and doomed passion.

I wonder how he could ever fall in love with me.

How could I see you and not love you?

I suppose you'd never seen me at all.

I suppose we'd never been born.

What did you

think

of her?

Of Miss Spenlow?

And you say you're not in love, Trot?

What did you think of that?

Does her father know?

Then be careful.

Master Copperfield!

Master Copperfield!

What a wonderful party.

Except you and I had hardly any chance to talk.

You have heard something, I dare say, of the change in my circumstances.

Yes.

What a worthy man Mr. Wickfield is.

Oh, but he's been included.

Oh, very much so. Now, it's a topic I would not touch on to any sober you.

No, there would have been great loss.

Disgrace. I don't know what all.

But I was able to be the humble instrument of his salvation.

And so he has put me on an eminence I could never hope to have reached.

I congratulate you.

Oh, thank you.

You will not think the worse of my humbleness if I make a tiny confidence

to you.

No.

Did you not think that Miss Agnes Swetfield was looking very beautiful

tonight?

Yes, I did.

Oh, thank you.

Why thank me?

Well... That is the confidence that I take the liberty of proposing.

Look, humble as I am, Master Copperfield, the image of Agnes

Wickfield has been in my breast for years.

Oh, Master Copperfield, what a pure affection do I worship the ground my

Agnes walks on.

Have you made these?

Feelings known to her?

Oh, dear, no, no, no, no, no. Not to any soul but you.

No, she's very young still.

And there's no rush at present.

And I have to work my way upwards.

There will be time presently to make her familiar with my oats.

As opportunities offer.

I go this way towards the city.

I go that way.

Then we part here.

If you'll have the goodness to keep my secret.

Not general to go against me.

I'll take it as a particular favor.

Look, you are as a brother to a master Copperfield.

You wouldn't wish to make unpleasantness.

Well, I'll bid you good night.

At first, I was too angry to think clearly.

Later, when I was master of myself enough for reflection, I judged that the

best course was to do nothing, to keep to myself what I'd heard.

The reader may by now be starting to form an opinion about the soundness of

my judgment.

It was at about that era in my life that, while dining most abominably with

traddles at his lodging, chanced through into my path another old friend.

To school days.

School days.

Do you remember the time I got caned by Old Creakle?

My dear Trattles, Old Creakle caned you every day of your life.

He was a brute to you.

Perhaps he was.

But there was a great deal of fun going on there too.

Do you remember the stories you used to tell in the bedroom after dark?

Old... That'll be my landlord.

For the rent.

Good evening, Mr. McCorber.

Mr.

McCorber, how do you do?

Well, sir, you are exceedingly obliging. I am in state to go.

And Mrs. McCorber?

She is also, thank God, in state to go.

And the children?

Well, I rejoice to say that they are likewise in the enjoyment of celubrity.

Is it possible have I the pleasure of again beholding Copperfield?

Mr. Macawber, it's so good to see you again.

My dear Copperfield!

Mrs. Macawber!

Mrs. Macawber!

Mrs. McCobber. What is it, Mrs. McCobber? My dear, here is a gentleman

of the name of Copperfield who wishes to renew his acquaintance with you.

Oh, Mr. Cooperfield.

Oh,

my dear Copperfield.

Oh,

this is luxurious.

This reminds me of a period when I and mine were in easier circumstances.

Circumstances difficult, Mr. Macorber. Until recently, I was engaged in the

sale of corn upon commission.

It was not an avocation of a remunerative description.

It did not pay, Mr. Copperfield.

Mr. Macorber is at present without any suitable position or employment.

Where does that responsibility rest?

With society.

What Mr. Macorber has to do is...

Throw down the gauntlet to society and say, in effect, show me who would take

that up. Let the party immediately step forward.

How is this to be done, exactly?

By advertising in papers.

It appears to me that what Mr Macorber has to do in justice to himself, in

justice to society, is to advertise in all the papers.

Yes.

How is he, Peggy T?

He's going out with the tide.

He's coming to himself.

Marcus,

my dear.

CP Marcus.

No better woman anywhere.

Look, here's Master Davy.

Back

is...

is willing.

I undertook the sad business of informing Peggy's brother of their loss.

I had no idea that I was about to learn of a far greater one.

Ham?

Ham, what's the matter?

Heaven's sake, tell me what's the matter.

She's run away.

Little Emily.

Pride and hope of my heart.

She's gone.

When you, who love me so much better than I've deserved, when you read this,

you shall be far away.

When I leave my dear home in the morning, it will be never to come back.

Unless he brings me back a lady.

Mr. Paddy.

It was no fault of yours, Marcy Davy.

There's no blame to be laid at your door.

No fault of mine.

I don't understand.

The name of the man is Steerforth.

And he's a damned villain.

Where were you going, Daniel?

Find my poor niece in her shame and bring her back.

No, Donald, no.

I'm going to seek her far and wide.

If any hurt should come to me, tell her the last words I had for her was, my

unchanged love is for my darling girl.

And I forgive her.

It was the first of a series of great shocks that one after another

overwhelmed my young life.

The next was mild in comparison, though momentous in its ultimate consequences,

and began innocently enough with a visit to Mr. McCorber's.

My dear friends, you may possibly not be unprepared to receive the

intimation that something has turned up.

I am about to establish myself in one of the provincial towns of our favorite

island in immediate connection with one of the learned professions.

You, therefore, find us on the brink of migration and will excuse any little

discomforts incidental to that position.

My family may consider it a banishment, if they please, but I am a wife and a

mother, and I never will desert Mr. Macorber.

I consider it no sacrifice to immure myself in a cathedral.

You're going to a cathedral town?

To Canterbury. I have entered into arrangements by virtue of which I stand

pledged and contracted to Mr. Uriah Heep. Uriah Heep?

To assist and serve him in the capacity of confidential clerk.

Are you acquainted with Mr. Heep?

Yes, I am indeed, ma'am.

And I feel it my duty to warn you against him.

My dear Copperfield, I am bound to state to you that it was the prudent

suggestion of Mrs. McCobber that has conduced to this result. The gauntlet to

which you referred upon a former occasion being thrown down in the form

of an advertisement was taken up by my friend Heap.

Your friend?

Well, so I flatter myself.

I know you're I, Heap.

I've known him since I was a boy.

He is a false, scheming creature.

No, Traddles, you'll bear me out.

He's a man not greatly admired in the profession, sir, but much feared.

These are opinions to give one pause, indeed, but certain pecuniary

engagements having been entered into upon either side, grave difficulties

must be anticipated in any attempt by me to extricate myself from... In short...

Mr. Heap has settled all our debts, Mr. Copperfield.

There can't be no good...

The McCorbers duly left for Canterbury.

I heard regularly from Agnes, and though nothing in her letters gave me

particular cause to feel anxiety for them, or her, I remained uneasy.

Mr. Copperfield, would you step in here a moment?

Mr. Murdston.

Miss Murdston?

David. Miss Murdston, have the goodness to show Mr. Copperfield what you've

shown me.

I believe this is your handwriting, Mr. Copperfield.

It is, sir.

Thank you, Miss Murdstone. We won't detain you further.

What? But my brother and I have come here today in spite of the fact that he

lost his wife a month ago and is in mourning, as you can see.

Jane Murdstone, enough.

My private grief is not at issue here.

My sister has a great deal more to say, sir. Your sister, Mr Murdstone, has done

her part.

It is now between myself and Mr Copperfield.

Very well.

I protest.

Jane. But Mr. Copperfield's behavior has been abominable.

Jane Murdstone, will you hold your tongue?

Well, Mr. Copperfield, have you anything?

There's nothing I can say, sir, except that all the blame is mine.

Dora... Miss Spenlow, I think you mean.

Miss Spenlow was persuaded by me to consent to this secrecy, and I greatly

regret it.

But my love can be my only excuse.

Do not tell me to my face that you love my daughter, sir.

Could I defend my conduct if I did not, sir?

Can you defend your conduct if you do, sir?

Have you considered how... young my daughter is, how young

you are, what your prospects are, how many years it must be before you make a

penny out of the law?

There's my book, sir.

Book? I've written a book.

It's with a publisher. I may get a good price for it.

Such an extravagant notion, Mr Copperfield. One hardly knows how to

proceed.

Consult your friends.

relations, people with some experience of the world. See what advice they give

you. In the meantime, you are not to communicate in any way with my daughter.

Is that agreed?

Yes, sir.

On your honor... as a gentleman... On my honor as a

gentleman...

Neatly, smoothly keep your eyes on your work. I determined to go down to Kent to

see my aunt.

Imagine my astonishment, then, to find that very person waiting for me in my

rooms.

My dear aunt.

What an unexpected pleasure.

Trot.

How are you?

Mr. Dick, how do you do, sir?

How do you do, sir?

Aunt, wouldn't you be more comfortable on the sofa?

No, no.

No, I prefer to sit upon my property. As you wish.

Well?

Trot, have you got to be firm and self-reliant?

I hope so. What do you think?

I think so.

Oh, then why, my love, do you think Betsy Trotwood prefers to sit upon this

property of hers?

I don't know.

Because it's all she's got.

Because she's ruined.

Ruined?

Betsy Trotwood had a certain property.

Against the advice of her man of business, I allude to Mr. Wickfield, she

invested in a gold mining venture and lost.

Then she invested in a banking venture and lost again.

Finally, she invested in a shipping venture and was suckinson straight to

the bottom.

I have considered the position, Copperfield.

I have even discussed the matter with, um... Mr.

Jorkins.

Prima facie, I can see no grounds, legal grounds, that is, to

cancel the agreement your aunt signed or to return to her the money she paid.

Of course.

if it was left to me alone.

But, you know, Mr.

Jorkins... It's then, though, I want... I'll return later.

You won't mind if I put my case directly to Mr. Jorkins, sir?

Bye! All means.

But please excuse me. I have an appointment at the Lord Chancellor's

office.

I must be going.

I'm sorry to say I can't advance your object, Copperfield.

And I, too, have an appointment at the bank.

Sir. Sir.

My aunt can no longer give me an allowance.

If I'm obliged to continue working here... With no salary, how am I to

live? I see your difficulty, Copperfield. Indeed, I do.

But if Mr. Spenlow objects... Personally, he does not object, sir.

Personally?

Personally. Oh, but I assure you, there is an objection.

It's hopeless, I'm afraid.

And now I really have got an appointment at the bank.

Well, if they won't, they won't. There's nothing to be done about it.

Therefore, let us look the case of Betsy Trotwood in the face and see how it

stands. Mr. Dick!

Mr.

Dick has his hundred a year, thank God.

I have a little ready money in the cottage, that's all.

The cottage must be left, Aunt. Oh.

Oh.

There is a small room upstairs I could take for Mr. Dick.

Yes?

You could have my bedroom.

I'll take the sofa.

As to money, well, there's my book.

If I can only get a good price for that, I can be free of Doctor's Commons and

marry Dora into the bargain.

Trot.

Oh, trot.

Quiet down.

Trot. You fancy yourself in love.

I adore her with my whole soul.

Doros Bedlow?

She's... She's very fascinating, I suppose. My dear aunt, nobody can form

the least idea of what she is. Not silly?

Silly. Not light-headed? Light-headed. Well, I only ask.

In any case, we must meet reverses boldly and not suffer them to frighten

us. We must learn to act the play out. We must live misfortune downtrod.

I went down to Kent, quickly concluded the business of the cottage, then went

to Mr. Wickfield's house, where I was to dine with him and Agnes.

Ah, my dear Copperfield! I am extremely glad to see you.

How do you find law, Mr. McCorber? Does it suit you?

To a man possessed of the higher imaginative powers, it is limiting.

In professional correspondence, the mind is not at liberty to soar to any very

exalted form of expression.

Mrs. McCormack's well, I hope? Oh, very well, thank God, and would be delighted

to receive you under our own roof. Pending an elevation to more ambitious

domiciliary accommodation, we occupy the humble abode that formerly gave shelter

to my employer, Ip, and his mother. What?

Where's Uriah living? Here.

And his mother?

In this house?

Trotwood.

The sight of her instantly put Uriah Heep and all his works out of my mind.

I could not think of her troubles.

Only of mine.

I think I shall go mad, Agnes.

I love her to distraction.

I can't eat or sleep for love of her.

And her father won't let me see her.

I can't write to her.

If there was one gleam of hope, but there's none, my whole soul is

being crushed under the burden of this.

I want to kill myself.

Or throw all to perdition and carry her away, elope with her. Please don't speak

of such things. You torture me.

Torture you?

Well, what do you mean?

Agnes?

What is it? What mustn't I talk of? Dearest sister.

Please.

Tell me.

I don't care to hear you talk of wild, impossible things, Trot.

Of elopement.

Of ruining yourself and her.

Cutting yourself off from those who love you.

Dearest Agnes.

Do you think I do?

I

don't

know, Trot.

Abandon my aunt, to whom I owe everything?

Never.

And yet, sometimes at dead of night, when I cannot sleep,

I seem to hear a demon voice whisper.

if only you had the courage.

It was only when Uriah and his mother joined us for dinner that the full

extent of his baneful power over that household became apparent to me.

It was with some pain that I observed the frequency with which Mr. Wickfield

refilled his own glass.

Shall we withdraw, Mum?

Don't sit too long tonight, Papa.

You know, we seldom see our present visitor, and I should propose

to give him welcome in a glass.

Mr Copperfield, your health and happiness.

Oh, come, fellow partner, I'll give you another one.

To Agnes Wickfield.

Agnes Wickfield is, I am safe to say, the divinest of her sex.

I'll speak out among friends, I hope.

To be her father is a proud distinction.

But to be her husband... What?

What? Sit down, Wickfield.

If I say... I have an ambition to make your Agnes my Agnes. I have as good a

right as any man.

I dare swear I have a better right to you.

To you!

Mr. Whitefield!

Leave me go!

Take care, Whitefield.

That man is my torture.

Step by step he has robbed me of my name and reputation.

My peace and quiet, my house, my home! I have kept your name and reputation for

me. And your peace and quiet, and your house and home!

Mr Whitfield!

Think of Agnes.

Think of your daughter.

What's happened, I heard?

Make it all smooth tomorrow.

Mr. Wickfield understands his interests when he's not in liquor.

Have you sometimes plucked a pear before it

was ripe, Mr. Cockfield?

No? No, I did that.

Just now.

But it'll ripen yet.

Only needs attending to.

Anyway.

Be careful.

Copperfield. I could ruin him, you know.

Wickfield. Oh, yes. Send him to prison.

You lie.

Do lie.

Ask him, then.

Go on.

Can I do nothing?

I have burdened you with my own sorrows.

No.

Agnes, you'd never sacrifice yourself out of a sense of duty.

You'd never bestow your hand on that man.

I would kill myself first.

You think perhaps I shall never bestow my hand on any man?

It was then, at that moment, that I knew, if only dimly, what my true

feeling for her was.

I said nothing. What could I say?

In any case, the hand of fate was about to reach out.

Dead.

Hart.

These are the articles you signed with Mr. Spenlow.

Now that he is... Dead, Mr. Jokins?

Precisely, yes. Now that he is... What you mentioned.

The articles cease and determine.

So also does your employment here.

In ordinary circumstances, your...

Aunt would be entitled to have part of the money she laid down, reimbursed by

the estate of the... Of the deceased, Mr. Jorgen.

Precisely, yes.

By the... what you mentioned.

But alas, the circumstances are not ordinary. Very, very far from ordinary.

There is no money.

There must be some.

Not a penny.

Mr. Spenlow had, it seemed...

been running through money far in excess of his income.

The house?

Rented. The carriage?

Hired.

Then what is to become of Miss Spendlow?

It's dreadful, sir.

With this ring I thee wed.

With this ring I thee wed.

With my body I thee worship.

With my body I thee worship.

And with all my worldly goods I thee endow.

And with all my worldly goods I thee endow.

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

Amen. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

Are you happy now, you foolish boy?

Very.

Very, very happy.

But was I happy?

I sold my book.

The price was not great, but sufficient.

Dora and I took a cottage on the northern height of London.

while my aunt and Mr. Dix stayed on in my old lodgings.

We had a slattern of a servant called Mary Ann, whose written recommendation

proved to be a greater work of fiction than I would ever dare attempt.

Her expenditure was quite phenomenal, but we never had anything in the house.

They won't come right.

Horrid bills.

Horrid, horrid numbers. They won't do anything I want.

They make my head ache so, and you do nothing to help me, you nasty husband.

Is it a dreadful muddle?

It's a bitter one, my love.

I'll see to this tomorrow.

Why not now and teach me? Because I'm behind with my writing.

I believe you care more for your horrid books than you do for me.

Dora. If you could have married one of your books, I dare say you would have in

preference to me. How many times do I have to tell you that this is our bread

and butter?

If I can't have peace to write, we starve.

And my aunt with us.

Dora!

Dora!

Mary, on the door!

She's found.

My darling girl is found.

She left him.

Steerforth. I am.

She made her own poor solitary course to London. Being close to death.

Mr. Peggity.

Oh, she'll live, sir.

Now she will.

But feeling herself close to death, she wrote to Yarmouth and they passed one

word to me.

Where is she now?

Well, here, sir. In London.

Still weak, sir, in her health.

But I'll nurse her.

And when she's well, I'll take her away.

Far away.

I had word again from Yarmouth today, sir.

He's going there, in that boat of his from Grimsby, to seek her out.

Will you go down there, sir?

Of course, Mr. Begarty.

Anything.

Will you tell him?

My niece will never look upon his face again.

No bearing company.

I will.

I travelled all night through a great storm.

Gusts of rain were sweeping in from the coast like shells of steel.

By the time I came to Yarmouth, it had finally blown itself out.

Master Davy!

Davy, my darling boy!

What brings you here? You sent my word.

Dear Lord.

What is it?

He came to meet him.

Steerforth. Oh, dear Lord.

Peggy, what is it?

His boat foundered in the storm.

close to shore.

I saw her as she rolled and dashed like a

desperate creature driven mad.

And a wave like a high green hillside

broke her to pieces.

He lay as if asleep.

as I had often seen him lie at school.

It was a winter of bitter, unrelenting cold.

Dora was constantly ailing and often confined to bed.

And then, one morning, I received a letter in the familiar flamboyant hand

of Mr. Macorber.

Marianne!

My dear Anne, try this.

He's had the same.

Come in, come.

Most secret and confidential.

My dear Copperfield, what you hold in your hand is the explosion of a volcano

long suppressed.

The result of an internal contest more easily conceived than described.

But now the struggle is over. I will put my hand in no man's hand. Until I have

blown to fragments a detestable serpent. Uriah Heep!

Mr. McCorber summons us to Canterbury.

And we're going.

He's here.

Ladies and gentlemen, I trust you will shortly witness an eruption.

Mr Copperfield, Mr Trattles, remember when I give the word, pounce.

Wow.

Here is an unexpected pleasure.

To see so many old friends.

Why aren't you at your desk, McCobber?

Run along.

Go on, run along. I'll talk to you presently.

If there is a scoundrel on this earth of whom I have already talked too much,

that scoundrel's name is he!

Mr. Wickfield?

Would you have the goodness to make known to present company what, in a

moment of unadulterated despair and benightedness of soul, you confided to

me? In short, the circumstances pertaining to the loss of the

Richborough diamonds.

These valuable jewels were entrusted to me by a client, Sir George Richborough.

At his direction, I took them to London to be sold. In London, I... I mislaid

them. No.

You were drunk, Mr. Wickfield.

And you lost them.

Or they were stolen from you.

Stolen?

Present company will oblige me by retaining that word.

Like a fool, instead of going to my client and placing the facts...

Honestly, before him, I attempted to cover up the loss.

I... I had to borrow the money to pay Sir George.

But enough. No, no, I must go on. Then sit, I beg you. Give me your hand.

The interest on the loan was crippling. I... I soon became mired in debt.

In the end, to maintain secrecy, I was mad enough to... to borrow the money

from my own clerk, Uriah Heep.

ever since I had been in his power.

Dearest Papa, enough.

Present company may now wish to consider an alternative interpretation.

Elucidated by Mr.

Wickfield, the Jewess were stolen.

Stolen by the transcendent and immortal hypocrite and perjurer, he.

You know, you're all words, Macorber.

Windy, empty words.

Where's your proof?

The consummate scoundrel, the intolerable ruffian, the interminable

cheat and liar, the abandoned rascal heap demands proof.

I say to him, here's proof.

That is my swan box. How dare you touch it?

Yuri, Yuri, be humble.

Yuri, Yuri, be humble. Get out, Mama. Be humble, Yuri. Make terms.

Inquire, I say.

I'll humble them. Will you, Goliath?

No, I couldn't. Stay away, macabre.

I'll sue for this, macabre. I'll kill you. Be humble, Lurie. My Uriah means

to be humble.

Don't mind what he says, good gentleman.

Hold your tongue, mother.

Ah.

Oh. The rich for diamonds.

How did you know that was there?

I never meant no

harm, Yuri.

You betrayed me!

No, never.

I'd die first.

I only wanted to see how they'd look above my neck.

I only took him out for a moment to try him.

It is true.

I was at hand, privily and secretly.

It was only a moment, but enough to prove beyond a poor adventure the

monstrous stratagem by which, in short, to prove your guilt.

Stop! My lord!

It's all here.

Every penny he embezzled and stole.

He hoarded it all.

My property.

I've got it back.

But, aunt, I thought you said you'd lost it.

It was all invested here with Mr Whitfield.

I thought it was he that made off with it. That's why I kept silent. That's why

I made up that story.

It was noble of you, ma'am.

You saved his reputation.

Which is the same as saying that you've saved his life.

Is he sleeping?

How can I ever thank you?

Some people David knows, you're my friends.

They're going out to Australia shortly.

Australia? Australia.

You could go on the same ship. What do you think of that idea?

Capital, ma'am.

But there's the rub, ma'am. Capital.

We have none.

Your husband has done a great service, Mrs. McCorver.

If you lack money, I'll furnish it.

I could not receive it as a gift, ma'am. Mr. Macorber's pride would not permit

it. If, however, a sufficient sum could be advanced, say, at 5% interest per

annum per my personal liability, say, my notes of hand at 12, 18, and 24 months,

respectively, to allow time for something to turn up.

Here.

I have a strong conviction that Australia will prove to be the

legitimate sphere of action for me and mine.

In short, that something of an extraordinary nature will turn up upon

that wild and distant shore.

I now approach an event so painful...

that from the beginning of this narrative I have seen it loom larger and

larger as I advanced, like a tall tree in a plane, throwing its shadow over

all. Dora!

It was the servant, Marianne, who had robbed us and then run off, leaving Dora

alone in a state of terror and distress.

Dora!

I'll come back first thing in the morning.

But if there's any change, send round for me immediately.

Over

the

next few days she grew worse.

She wanted very much to see Agnes, so I sent word to Canterbury.

Lady... I want to say something.

I've often thought of saying lately.

You were mine.

I think I was too young to be your wife.

Not in years only, but...

You silly little creature.

Not fit to be a wife.

As fit as I to be a husband.

It's much better this way.

In the end I would have wearied you and disappointed you. What are you saying?

Will you send her up to me?

I want to see her quite alone.

O holy and merciful saviour, thou most worthy judge eternal, suffer us not at

our last hour, or any pains of death to fall from thee.

Forasmuch as it hath pleased almighty God to take unto himself the soul of our

dear sister here departed, we therefore commit her body to the ground.

Earth to earth.

ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

I fled from the cold grave where my wife lay, from the aunt to whom I owed my

very existence, and from the woman who had all my heart.

But three years I wandered through Europe until finally I settled in

Switzerland.

I wrote more books.

My fame and reputation grew, but I had no thought of ending the exile I had

chosen until one day the nightmare of my past rose up again.

It was Murdston.

and his sister, sitting with an English girl and her companion with whom I was

slightly acquainted.

Miss Horton.

Miss Skeggs.

I beg your pardon for this unceremonious intrusion.

Mr. Copperfield.

Won't you do us the honor of joining us?

Thank you.

May I present... Mr.

Murdston and his sister are already known to me.

Oh, Mia.

Distant acquaintances. We can agree on that. Can we not, Mr. Copperfield?

No, ma'am. We cannot.

Not again.

Never again.

Mr. Murdstone is my stepfather.

He charmed my mother into marriage.

He wanted her fortune, small though it was.

Overcare, sir.

That is what he is, this fellow.

A calculating...

cold-blooded fortune hunter without honor, scruple, or mercy.

Be silent!

I have been silent too long.

I will be silent no more.

Edward, Edward, come away. Hold your tongue.

He bullied and harried my poor, weak mother into her grave.

Yes, she was weak, but it was not I who preyed upon her weakness.

It was her own son.

who drained her of the strength that she needed with his wild behavior and

importunate demands.

You killed her as deliberately and as pitilessly as if you had thrust a knife

into her heart.

Repeat that in England, sir.

Repeat that in a place where you cannot evade the laws of slander.

I'll do better than that.

I'll write it.

I have a certain fate.

I'll use it.

I'll make sure that you are yet more widely known than I am.

Universally known as the black-hearted thief and murderer that you are.

Edward.

Edward, come away.

Before another hour had passed, I was at my desk composing this present

narrative. As I finished each page, no, each sentence, each word, the black

night of my boyhood melted away until I stood at last in the light, a man.

End it, I could not.

The ending, whatever it should be, happy or sad, lay not in Switzerland, but in

England.

How is

Agnes?

Well, very well.

And as good and beautiful as ever. If I knew higher praise, I would bestow it on

her. Has she any admirers?

Scores.

She could have been married 20 times since you've been gone.

I wonder why she has not.

I suspect she has an attachment.

Do you know the man?

She's never confided in me, but I think I know the man.

I think I know the man very well.

So, will you go over to Canterbury and see her?

Are you sure she would welcome it?

Mr. Dick, what should he do?

Hire a horse and ride to Canterbury tomorrow.

Oh, Trotwood, is it you?

Is it really you? It is.

How well you look. And you?

Did you... Agnes.

I went away.

I know why you went away.

Do you?

Yes.

I believe you know everything about me.

Not everything, perhaps.

I went away.

I went away loving you.

I stayed away loving you.

And now I return loving you.

Did you know that?

Yes.

I have kept my secret better than you have kept yours.

Your secret?

I've loved you all my life.

Dearest, dearest Trot, there is one more thing I have to tell you.

The day she died, Dora sent you for me.

I was with her at the end.

She made a last request to me.

That one day I would take her place by your side.

Will you?

I will.

Here, I close this narrative.

Here, with Agnes at my side.

Agnes.

Agnes, Agnes, may you so be near me when I close my life.

When realities are melting from me like the shadows of this story.

May I find you near me still.