All language subtitles for Little Women 1994

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- Is this too fast?
- Harder!

My sisters and I
remember that winter...

as the coldest
of our childhood.

A temporary poverty had settled
upon our family some years before.

The war had made fuel
and lamp oil scarce.

But necessity is indeed
the mother of invention.

Somehow in that dark time...

our family, the March family,
seemed to create its own light.

Marmee!
Marmee's home!

Marmee! Marmee!

We waited and waited! We've been
"expectorating" you for hours!

- Have you, my darling?
- "Expecting," featherhead.

- Oh, Marmee, you're frozen!
- Yes.

If you could see the people lined up
outside Hope House in this bitter cold.

- Mmm, your cheeks are so warm.
- Finished your Christmas bundles?

So many this year!
We were handing out--

- Oh, how is your cold?
- Better.

Good. We were handing out food...

as quickly as we could
make up the baskets.

Now, Miss Amy,
what is this in my pocket?

Father!

"My dearest family,
I am well and safe.

Our battalion is
encamped on the 'Potamac'."

- Potomac.
- Potomac.

"December makes a hard, cold season
for all of us so far from home.

I think of my girls day and night...

and find my best comfort
in your affection.

I pray that your own hardships
will not be too great to bear.

Give them all my dear love
and a kiss.

Tell them I think of them by day,
pray for them by night."

- Poor Father.
- I'm a selfish girl.

Oh! Little ones.

It's Christmas Eve.
Father wouldn't want us to be sad now.

Ding-dong
merrily on high

In heaven the bells
are ringing

In heaven the bells
are ringing

Ding-dong merrily the sky
is riven with angels singing

Glor-o-o-ria

Hosanna in excelsis

To bed, Miss Amy.

- Merry Christmas, sweetheart.
- Merry Christmas.

Let steeple bells be swungen

And i-o i-o i-o

- Merry Christmas.
- Merry Christmas.

Glor-o-o-ria

Merry Christmas, Beth.

- Love you.
- I love you.

Hosanna in excelsis

My Jo.
Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Marmee.

Hosanna in excelsis

And don't sit up too late.

I won't.

May you beautifully rhyme
your eve-time song ye singers

Late at night, my mind would come alive
with voices and stories...

and friends as dear to me
as any in the real world.

I gave myself up to it,
longing for transformation.

Oh, what miraculous food!

Isn't this just like
the old days, Hannah?

Oh.

We shouldn't eat it.
We should just look at it.

I'm going to eat it.

Jo? Jo, come down!

I'm awake!

Horrible piano.

Hannah's put together
an absolute Christmas miracle.

Is that sausage?

Wait!

Oh, butter! Oh, oh,
isn't butter "divinity"?

Oh, God, thank you
for this breakfast.

She went out at the crack
of dawn to see some Germans.

Hummel, the boy said.
Not a word of English.

His da's gone.

Six children,
and she's 'bout to issue another.

May as well take 'em
a stick of firewood.

Sure they haven't got any.

Or breakfast either.

Perhaps we could send
the Hummels our bread.

Might as well send the butter too.
Butter's not much use...

without bread
to put it on.

Oh, wonderful snow!

Don't you wish you could
roll about in it like dogs?

Once one of our
finest families.

Lovely weather
for a picnic!

Come along, Theodore.
We'll be late for church.

Jo, you should let them speak first.
What will they think of us?

Oh, don't look back!

Here we come a-wassailing
among the leaves so green

And here we come a-wandering
so fair as to be seen

Love and joy come to you
And to you your wassail too

And God bless you and send you
a happy new year

And God send you
a happy new year

"Knights and ladies, elves and pages,
monks and flower girls...

all mingled gaily
in the dance.

Pauline cried out in horror
as her bridegroom's mask fell...

disclosing not her lover Ferdinand...

but the face of
his sworn enemy, Count Antonio.

Revenge is mine,
quoth he."

Continued in
the following edition.

Excellent installment,
Mr. Snodgrass.

- Oh, I love forbidden marriages!
- You ought to publish it, Jo.

Really!
Not just in the Pickwick Portfolio.

Mr. Tupman, are you demeaning
our fine newspaper?

Mr. Winkle.

"One periwink--"
Advertisement.

"One periwinkle sash
belonging to Mr. N. Winkle...

has been 'abscondated'
from the wash line...

which gentleman desires any reports
leading to its recovery."

Gentlemen of the press, hear, hear!
I call to your attention...

our Mr. Tupman's
The History of the Squash.

Oh, don't read mine.

Beth, this isn't a story.
It's a recipe.

Oh, dear, I never know
what to write.

First rule of writing, Mr. Tupman,
is never write what you know.

What do we think of the boy?

Is he a captive like Smee
in Nicholas Nickleby?

He looks lonely.
You don't think he'll try to call?

Maybe he has a secret--
a tragic, European secret.

He's had no upbringing at all
they say.

He was reared in Italy
among artists and vagrants.

Doesn't he have a noble brow?

If I were a boy, I'd want
to look just like that.

Imagine giving up Italy
to come live with that awful old man!

Jo, please don't say awful.
It's slang.

I'd be terrified
to live with him.

I shouldn't mind living in such
a fine house and having nice things.

Oh, it doesn't seen like Christmas
this year without presents.

I'm desperate
for drawing pencils.

I wish I didn't have to work
for Great-Aunt March...

that crabby old miser.

And you, Beth.
What's your Christmas wish?

I'd like the war to end
so Father can come home.

Oh, sweet Beth.
We all want that.

They do have
a beautiful piano.

Wait 'til I'm a writer.
I'll buy you the best piano in creation.

And if she doesn't,
you can come over and play mine.

When I marry,
I'm going to be disgustingly rich.

And what if the man you love
is a poor man but good, like Father?

Well, it isn't like being stuck
with the dreadful nose you get.

One does have a choice
to whom one loves.

You have a lovely nose!

I wouldn't marry
for the money.

I mean,
what if his business goes bust?

Besides, down at the Eagle,
they pay $5 for each story they print.

Why, I have ten stories
in my head right now!

Gentlemen,
I dislike all this money talk.

It isn't refined.

If lack of attention to personal
finances is a mark of refinement...

then I'd say the Marches
are the most elegant family in Concord.

We'll all grow up someday,
Meg.

We might as well know
what we want.

That'll do.

Put the carriage away,
and look smart about it.

Very good, sir.

Merry Christmas!

I have the most wonderful feeling
about tonight.

Meg and Jo, you have to tell me...

"exquisitely" everything
about Belle Gardiner.

What her nose looks like
and about her ring.

Annie Gardiner says it's an emerald.

Can you imagine?
Everyone's lucky but me.

I'm glad I don't have to go and be
with those frightening people...

and try to think of things
to say.

- Hush now.
- Oh, mind you, Jo...

don't eat much at supper...

and don't shake hands with people.
It isn't the thing anymore.

- Jo, your dress!
- Oh, I know!

You always stand
too close to the fire.

Oh, dear. Well, just keep
your backside to the wall.

- Meg, look. What cunning little heels.
- They're rather small.

That's all right.
It's only for one night.

You don't suppose anyone
will notice...

they came out
of the rag bag, do you?

Uh-uh.
You have to have heels.

What's that strange smell?

Like burnt feathers.

- Heavens above!
- You've ruined me!

I'm sorry! I'm sorry.

You shouldn't have had me do it!

- Meg, don't worry.
- I spoil everything.

- I can't go out like this!
- Good! I'm not going either.

Here, we'll place my bow in front.

- Yes, that covers it.
- It's very becoming.

I'll never have any suitors.
I'll just be a dried-up old spinster.

You don't need scores of suitors.

You only need one,
if he's the right one.

Listen to the child.

Meg isn't going to
be married right away, is she?

With Jo's help,
I never will.

- You must be so happy.
- Oh, Belle, it's enchanting.

Well, I best go help Mama.
Excuse me.

I think it's Mrs. Barkley.

She's going to try it.
Watch her.

Oh, yes, I would
like it very much.

Jehoshaphat! I'm sorry.

No, no, stay!
It's not a bad hiding place.

You see, I don't know anyone...

so I feel awkward standing
and staring at people.

Should I put on my jacket?
I never know the rules.

Um, um, I'm Laurie.

Theodore Laurence,
but I'm, uh, I'm called Laurie.

Jo March. Um--

So, who were
you staring at?

Uh, you, actually.
What-- what game were you playing?

I don't know,
but I think I won.

- Who else?
- Well, I was--

I was quite taken
with that one.

That's Meg.
That's my sister.

She's completely bald
in front.

Is it true that you lived in Italy
among artists and vagrants?

My mother was Italian.
A, uh, pianist.

- Grandfather disapproved of her.
- Truly?

I saw a play like that once.
Do you like the theater?

- Oh, yes.
- Were you born there?

Where? In--
In, uh, Italy.

- Do you speak French or Italian?
- English at home.

Francais a L 'ecole.
The Music Conservatory in Vevey.

But Grandfather's
having me tutored now.

He insists I go to college.

Oh, I'd commit murder
to go to college.

Ohh!

Actually,
I'm going to Europe.

Well, at least I hope I am.

My Great-Aunt March says
she'll go one of these days...

and she has to take me with her
because I work as her companion.

I have to read to her
for hours and hours.

- But I do all the voices!
- I'll bet you do.

If I weren't going to be
a writer...

I'd go to New York
and pursue the stage.

- Are you shocked?
- Very.

I-I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. Meg always makes me take
the gentleman's part at home.

It's a shame you don't know
the lady's part.

Why are you looking
at the back of my dress?

It isn't so bad! Honestly.

You promised
you wouldn't look.

Oh, Jo, I've sprained
my ankle.

I shouldn't wonder in those shoes!
Does it hurt?

Oh. Oh, no, no.
I'm quite well, thank you.

Well, this is our neighbor,
Laurie, the captive.

Oh, poor Meg.
I'll go tell Mrs. Gardiner.

Oh, no, Jo. She'll think
I've been sampling the punch.

- A perfectly good party ruined.
- I have my carriage.

Let me take you home.

- Oh, yes!
- Oh, no, thank you.

Thank you.

Lean on me. Thank you, Mr. Laurence.
That's very kind of you.

- Good-bye, Laurie.
- Good night, Mrs. March.

Wherever did you
get this shoe?

Did you ride in his carriage?
Oh, you two have all the luck.

- Oh, Jo, is he very romantic?
- Not in the slightest!

We're very much obliged to him,
but he's a dreadful boy.

He did a good deed
putting snow on this ankle.

- He put snow on your ankle?
- To bed, Miss Amy.

- With his own hands?
- Oh, stop being so swoony.

I won't have my girls
being silly about boys.

To bed, Jo, dear.

Does this hurt?

- Everything lovely happens to Meg.
- Oh, yes indeed!

You mustn't be soppy about Laurie
anymore than you should be soppy...

about those silly
girls at school.

I hope we shall be
good friends with him.

- With a boy?
- He isn't a boy! He's Laurie!

Faster!

Faster!

Laurie!

Your young ladies are unusually active,
Mrs. March, if I may say so.

You may indeed, Mr. Brooke.

It is my opinion that young girls
are no different than boys...

in their need for exertion.

Feminine weakness and fainting spells
are the direct result...

of our confining young girls
to the house...

bent over their needlework
in restrictive corsets.

Marmee!

Your young student
is an athlete.

He is, thank you,
a good one.

But he makes
an unruly scholar.

I regret that his grandfather
is away much.

One hopes
that your girls...

will be a gentling influence.

Indeed, Mr. Brooke.

Marmee, must you speak
to everyone about corsets?

Oh, Meg.

Do I?

Blast these wretched skirts!

Don't say blast and wretch.

Amy, don't be such
a ninny-pinny.

I wish I was Beth so I could stay home
and do pleasant things.

Oh, if you call doing laundry
and housework pleasant!

Blast!

Amy, hurry.
I'll be late for work.

There's Mrs. King.
I'm tardy again.

Lovely children.

Oh, Meg, must I go to school?
I'm so "degradatated."

I can hardly hold my head up.
I owe at least a dozen limes.

- Limes?
- Are limes the fashion now?

Of course they are.
It's nothing but limes now.

Everyone keeps them in their desks
and trades them for beads and things.

And all the girls
treat each other at recess.

If you don't bring limes
to school, you're nothing.

You might as well be dead.

I've had ever so many limes,
and I can't pay anyone back.

No wonder you don't learn
anything at that school!

I know how it feels to do
without any little luxuries.

But we are not destitute,
not yet.

Here's a quarter. Marmee gave me
the rag money this month.

Go on!

"Secondly, the immortality
of the soul...

is asserted
to be in consequence...

of its immateriality...

as in all
leipothymic cases...

consistent with the idea
of immortality...

and immorality,
and physicality--"

And I think you finally
dozed off.

Josephine, there's a draft!

Is it Father?

Teacher struck me.

He put the limes out
into the snow.

May Chester said my limes must
have been donated to Hope House.

Then I said that she wouldn't
get a single lime from me.

And then she told Mr. Davis
they were hidden in my desk...

and then he struck me.

We oughta go over there and beat
the tar out of him with his own stick!

Jo, we must not
embrace violence.

- I'll write this man a letter.
- A letter? That'll show him.

You failed to mention
to me they were forbidden.

A whole month's rag money?

- Amy, I shouldn't have given it to you.
- I'm sorry!

All those lovely limes.
I'm perfectly "desolated."

I'm not sorry you lost them.

It's a frivolous concern
in times like these.

You are more intent upon reshaping
your dear little nose...

than in fashioning
your character.

It's an appalling school.
Your spelling's atrocious...

your Latin absurd.

Mr. Davis said it was as
useful to educate a woman...

as to educate a female cat.

I shall strangle
Mr. Davis!

"Mr. Davis...

what right have you
to strike a child?

In God's eyes we are all children
and we are all equals.

If you hit and humiliate a child,
the only lesson she will learn...

is to hit and humiliate."

Amy, do you think you can
discipline yourself...

to learn at home
as Beth has done?

"I withdraw my daughter Amy
from your school."

It serves
the scoundrel right!

Jo will now supervise
your education.

Jo, tell me
what happens next...

after the Duke turns his back on
his family fortune and saves Lady Zara.

Don't know. It's all murder and gore.
The damsel's in distress.

Oh, I love your damsels
in distress.

Oh, Beth, truly, I don't know
if I could ever be good like Marmee.

I rather crave violence.

If only I could be like Father...

and go to war and stand up
to the lions of injustice.

And so Marmee does
in her own way.

Yes.

But I want to do
something different!

I don't know what it is yet,
but I'm on the watch for it.

You will find it, Jo.

Hello! Jo!

Come over here. You too, Meg.
It's dull as tombs around here.

Mr. Laurence, one doesn't shout
at ladies as if they were cattle.

My apologies.

All right.

What do those girls do
over there all day?

Over the mysteries
of female life...

there is drawn a veil
best left undisturbed.

Oh, dear Countess,
pray for me...

for I have sinned against meself
and me brother Rodrigo.

You've got to say sinned
as if you've really sinned!

Sinned! Sinned!

Rodrigo!

You arrive seeking
the Duke of Lankershire.

Hark ye.
Who goes there?

Oh, I forgot the cymbals.

Why it's...
it's Rodrigo!

- Rodrigo?
- I want to be Lady Violet.

I'm "exhaustified"
of being the boy.

The play is the thing, Amy!
You're too little to be Lady Violet.

Here, be the
Countess de Montanescu.

- You don't have any lines.
- Besides who would be our Rodrigo?

Gentlemen...

I propose the admission of a new member
to our theatrical society.

Theodore Laurence.
We'll put it to a vote.

Nay. He'll laugh at our acting
and poke fun at us later.

He'll think it's only a game.

No, he won't.
Upon my word as a gentleman.

Jo, when it's only ladies, we don't
guard our conduct in the same way.

We bear our souls and tell
the most appalling secrets.

- He would find us improper.
- Teddy would do nothing of the sort.

Oh, please?
Let's try him.

Shall we?

- Jo!
- Traitor!

Fellow artists,
may I present myself...

as an actor, a musician, and a loyal
and very humble servant of the club.

We'll be the judge of that.

In token of my gratitude,
and as a means of promoting...

communication between
adjoining nations...

shouting from windows being forbidden,
I shall provide...

a post office
in our hedge...

to further encourage
the baring of our souls...

and the telling of
our most appalling secrets.

I do pledge...

never to reveal what I receive
in confidence here.

Well then...

do take your place, Rodrigo.

Sir...

Rodrigo.

And so Laurie was admitted
as an equal into our society...

and we March girls could enjoy
the daily novelty...

of having a real brother
of our very own.

I want to go to the theater.

- I never get to go anywhere.
- You're too little.

Beth, where in tarnation
are Marmee's opera glasses?

I'm not too little.
You're just hogging Laurie.

Please, can't I go?

Oh, Amy, I'm afraid Laurie
only reserved four seats.

Do I look too shabby?

Oh, Jehoshaphat, Meg,
this isn't a coronation.

It's just Laurie
and that awful Mr. Brooke.

Jo, can't you ask Teddy
to get another ticket?

No!

You have a cold, dear.
Rest your eyes.

Evangeline and I will make you
some ginger tea.

You're weeks behind in algebra.
Do all the pages that I've marked.

I won't have a sister
who's a lazy ignoramus.

- Don't sulk. You look like a pigeon.
- Coo! Coo!

Good night.

You'll be sorry for this,
Jo March!

Whoa! Whoa, there.

Thank you.

Oh, Mrs. Nell Watson.
Wasn't she a wonderful swooner?

If only I were
the swooning type!

If only I were
the catching type.

Young Laurence informs me...

you are an aficionado
of the theater, Miss March.

- Well, I-- I enjoy reading plays.
- Yes.

I, I find it
most pleasurable myself.

Though I confess I'm distracted
at the theater...

thinking of the peculiar lives
of the actors themselves.

When one considers the immodesties
Mrs. Nell Watson suffers...

one wonders what sort of
lady would seek such a life.

Meg is a sensational actress!

We're always putting on
wild theatricals.

It's just something
that we play at.

Well, as,
as a matter of fact...

at school I engaged
in debating.

What do you think of that?
Let's see what they do.

- I had a wonderful time, Mr. Brooke.
- As did I.

It was a most
delightful evening.

- And I'd very much like--
- Thank you very much. Good night.

- Oh, good night.
- Good night.

- That was rude.
- You plastered yourself on him.

It's proper to take
a gentleman's arm if it's offered.

How was the theater?
Amusing?

It was wonderful! I was absolutely
inspired by the love scene.

You look flushed, Meg dear.
Was the theater overcrowded?

Still sulking?

Beth, where did
I put my manuscript?

Beth?

No!

Oh, no.

I didn't do it!

I'm gonna kill you!
I'm gonna kill you!

Marmee, help me!

I'm gonna kill you!
Do you hear me?

- How can you do this to me?
- Jo!

- Jo, stop. You're hurting her.
- Marmee!

- Marmee!
- Jo! Jo! Let go of her!

- What's happened? All right, all right.
- I hate you!

No, Jo!

Don't touch it.

Come. Just let it go.

You're dead!
You're nothing!

I never want
to see you again!

It is a very great loss,
and you have every right to be put out.

But don't let the sun
go down upon your anger.

Forgive each other.
Begin again tomorrow, huh?

I will
never forgive her.

I'm sorry, Jo.

Looks like the last ice
we'll have this year.

Say "go."

Laurie, Jo, wait for me!

Ignore her.

Ready-- Blast!

Jo, please!

- Amy!
- Jo!

Hold on.
I'm coming!

Hold on, Amy.

Get a rail!

Grab the stick, Amy.

- Grab it!
- Come on!

Hold on!

There we go.
That's it, that's it.

Josephine March, you walked all the way
from Walden Pond...

- in only these bloomers?
- As if she even noticed.

Dear Amy.

How could I have been so horrible?
Thank God for Laurie.

Jo, do you love Laurie
more than you love me?

Oh, don't be
such a beetle!

I could never love anyone
as I love my sisters.

I'm not a beetle.

Oh, look out.
You're leaving out the best part.

When Lady Zara succumbs
to the Duke's rival.

Oh, right, yes!
Sir Hugo.

I quite prefer him
myself.

In the spring, we turned
Orchard House upside down...

with preparations for Meg to attend
Sally Moffat's coming out.

Myself, I'd sooner have been hung
by the neck than attend a fancy ball.

Wait 'til all of Boston
sees you in this dress, Meg.

I told Laurie he has to show you off
and keep you from being a wallflower...

upon penalty of death.

Oh, where is
that miserable glove?

Abigail, I shake my head at the way
you're managing Margaret.

How is she to be married
without a proper debut?

Now, Auntie,
in our present circumstances--

Your circumstances will not change
with your husband's return.

My nephew is as foolish with money
as he is in his new philosophies.

The one hope for your family
is for Margaret to marry well...

though I don't know
who marries governesses.

Marmee!

And this one has entirely
ruined her disposition with books.

Oh, are those for me,
Josephine?

No. Meg's taking them
to the Moffat's.

Marmee, Meg's frantic.

She lost her glove,
and she only has one pair.

She cannot go without gloves.
The Moffats are society.

You're absolutely correct.
Tell Meg she may borrow mine.

Meg, you can take Marmee's!

Oh, dear!

Ohh!

- More tea?
- No, thank you.

Sally Moffat, you won't
be able to draw your laces.

At my coming out party,
I didn't eat for weeks beforehand.

Oh, Meg, I do like
that color on you.

It's just like
forget-me-nots.

The nicest I've seen that kind
of fabric since the war broke out.

But you had it
made up so plain.

Well, I--
I do my own sewing, and--

Mrs. Finster's on Charles Street
carries silk pieces ready-made.

- Tomorrow I'll take you there.
- Marches haven't bought silk in years.

They have views on slavery.

Meg, isn't it true your father's
school had to close...

when he admitted a little dark girl?

The silk of Mrs. Finster's
isn't milled in the South.

It's made right here,
over in Linfield.

This isn't China silk?

They use little children for labor.
All the silk mills do.

The poor are
always with us.

You are so good
to remind us.

May I tell you
something?

This is
an afternoon dress.

I'm going to make you
my pet.

Tonight Miss March shall have
as many conquests as she likes.

You have no corset.

Come on.

Not for me, thank you.

No, I believe the next dance
is the polka...

with me.

I would dance with you,
Mr. Parker...

but I fear for
my new slippers.

My credo is,
"Don't tread on me."

Miss March. I thought your family
were temperance people.

Laurie.

Oh, don't cover up.

There may be one or two
gentlemen here...

who haven't seen
all of your charms.

I did promise Jo
I would show you off.

The girls dressed me up,
and I rather like it.

Yes, it reveals
a whole new Meg.

What do you call this?

Meg!

I'm sorry.

Please don't tell Jo
how I've behaved.

Of course not.

If you won't tell anyone
how I've behaved.

I was only playing
a part...

to see how it felt
to be Belle Gardiner...

with four proposals
and 20 pairs of gloves.

You're worth ten
of those other girls.

Did you see the way this March girl
has gone after the Laurence heir?

Best thing that could
happen to the Marches.

Oh!
This ridiculous dress!

I've been tripping over it
all night.

Tie something around your neck
where it can do you some good.

I don't like people speculating
about Laurie and our Meg...

as if they were characters
in some play.

Nothing provokes
speculation more...

than the sight of a woman
enjoying herself.

Why is it Laurie may do as he likes,
flirt and tipple champagne--

And no one thinks
the less of him?

Well, I suppose for
one practical reason:

Laurie is a man,
and as such...

he may vote, hold property and pursue
any profession he pleases.

And so he is not
so easily demeaned.

Why should anyone care
what they think?

I do.

It's nice to be praised and admired.
I couldn't help but like it.

Of course not!

I only care what
you think of yourself.

If you feel your value lies
in being merely decorative...

I fear that someday
you might find yourself...

believing that's all
that you really are.

Time erodes all such beauty,
but what it cannot diminish...

is the wonderful workings
of your mind.

Your humor, your kindness...

and your moral courage.

These are the things
I cherish so in you.

I so wish I could give
my girls a more just world.

I know you'll make it
a better place.

Hmm?

"...resounded, resounded with song
of the nightingale."

No.

No, I don't want them now.

And keep the music. I won't be going
near a piano for ages.

You need your books in college.
Here's your Dombey and Sons.

I could've sworn
there was another volume.

Honestly, Jo...

I won't be taking all of Dickens
to Harvard with me.

Oh, no. You'll have much more
important things to read.

Nothing's going
to change, Jo.

I wish I could go.

I wish you could too.

You'll come back knowing
all sorts of things I don't know...

and then I'll hate you.

Oh.

Well, as it happens...

I already know something
you don't know.

About Meg and a certain former
tutor of mine...

soon to be employed at the firm
of Laurence and Laurence.

Liar.

Has Meg mislaid a certain
personal article...

such as a glove?

Meg, John Brooke
stole your glove!

What glove?
N-Not my white one?

Brooke's had it forever.
Laurie says he keeps it in his pocket.

You must tell him to return it.

Hannah, don't you think
he oughta give it back?

'Tisn't what I think
that matters.

Jo? Meg?

It's, uh, a telegram...

from Washington Hospital.

Your father's been wounded.

- Come on, Amy. That's it.
- There are six.

The household account is in this ledger.
It should see you through the month.

- Of course. Don't worry about us.
- Oh, Beth?

Look in on the Hummels
for me, will you?

I will, Marmee.

Where's Jo?
It's almost 6:00.

Doing battle with Aunt March
for Marmee's railway ticket.

Carry a letter to Mrs. Juba
at the Hope House.

John! Mr. Brooke.

I've come to offer myself
as an escort to your mother.

Cook packed this up...

and Grandfather sends a bottle
of spirits for Mr. March.

- That's lovely. Thank you.
- Marmee?

- Mr. Brooke is here.
- Mrs. March.

Mr. Brooke.

As young Laurence no longer
requires a tutor...

Mr. Laurence has commissions
for me in Washington.

I should like to be
of service to you there.

- We couldn't let you travel alone.
- Mr. Brooke, how kind of you.

- May I?
- Thank you.

Are we to go on the 6:00 train?

Yes, I sent Jo off,
but she hasn't--

- I'm here!
- Jo. Finally.

Twenty-five.
Can Aunt March spare this?

I couldn't bear
to ask her.

- I sold my hair.
- Jo, how could you?

Your one beauty.

It isn't going to affect
the state of the Union.

- It'll grow back.
- It suits you.

Tell Father
that we love him.

- Tell him we pray for him.
- Bring him home.

- I'll never forget his kindness.
- Hannah, thank you.

Oh, I shall miss
my little women.

Are you thinking about Father?

No. My hair.

- A little harder.
- Yeah, I hit him on the noggin.

Wait for me!

Blast! Oh, dear.

- This stove!
- We'll eat them anyway.

There's no more cornmeal
nor coffee.

The grocer won't let us have
more on account.

- What can I bring the Hummels?
- Oh, fry the Hummels!

- You spent hours there last week.
- The boys are sick.

I mustn't write of this
to Marmee.

- She has enough burdens now.
- I hate money!

Your potatoes!

Come on! Here!

Air the beds.
And be careful cleaning.

- And don't forget your studies, Amy.
- I won't. I will. Go!

- Beth!
- Christine.

I don't understand.
I brought you a potato.

- Laurie's home for the weekend!
- In need of funds, no doubt.

We'd have a week's groceries
with what he spends on billiards.

Oh, Jehoshaphat!

Meg! Meg, you won't believe it!

I've sold the Lost Duke of Gloucester!
Five whole dollars!

I'm an author!

- Beth?
- The Hummel baby is sick.

I feel so strange.

She's burning up,
but she says that she's freezing.

She has a terrible thirst,
but she won't drink.

Sounds like arsenicum,
but she looks more like belladonna.

I saw the Hummels.

Two children taken up to Jesus.
Scarlet fever.

You and Miss Jo
won't be harmed.

You had it when
you were babies.

But, Miss Amy,
we have to send you away.

She won't die.

Will she, Laurie?
God wouldn't let her die.

I don't wanna go away.

I'll come and see you
every day.

I swear it.
You won't be alone.

I'm afraid of Aunt March.

If she's unkind to you...

I'll come and take you away.

Where will we go?

Paris?

If I get scarlet fever and die...

give Meg my box
with the green doves on it.

- And Jo must have my turquoise ring.
- I'll see to that.

I don't wanna die.

I've never
even been kissed.

I've waited my whole life
to be kissed.

And what if I miss it?

I tell you what.

I promise to kiss you
before you die.

Whoa!

I don't know. I don't think Marmee
should leave Father.

Beth needs Marmee.
She depends on her.

But what if we send for her
and Father gets worse?

How in the name of all that's holy
would we pay for the train?

"That he profane not
my 'sancteraries'--"

- Sanctuary.
- "Sanctuaries.

For I, the Lord,
do sanctify them.

And Moses told it
unto Aaron and to his sons...

and unto all the children
of Israel."

Go on.

"And the Lord spake
unto Moses saying--"

Jo, Mr. Laurence is here.

If we may, I wish
my personal physician, Dr. Bangs...

to examine the little girl.

There's nothing to be done.

If I bleed her,
it would finish her.

- Best to send for the mother.
- Forgive me.

I've already done so. Mrs. March
arrives on the train this night.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou
amongst women and--

Cricket, Marmee's here.

Icy cold. Jo.

Jo, fetch a basin with
vinegar water and rags.

Meg, my kit.

Must draw the fever down
from her head.

It's all right.
It's all right.

It's all right now.
That's my love.

Beth!

And so our dear Beth
came back to us...

although the fever
had weakened her heart forever.

We did not know then
that a shadow had fallen.

We prepared for another
Christmas without Father.

Try each corner.
Thank you.

No, no! One bow is enough!

Mr. Laurence. Thank you.

- Oh. I'm so sorry.
- It happens all the time.

Here she comes!

- Come on! Come on!
- What should I do with these bows?

Now, don't scare her to death.
She's been sick, you know.

Hide the chairs.
Hide them, Amy!

Quick.

The house is beautiful.

They're friends of mine
from college.

Freddy Vaughan
and Averill Watson.

They won't bite.

No, don't sit there!
Sit--

Here.

Sit here child.

Merry Christmas.

- Merry Christmas, Beth!
- Merry Christmas, Beth!

I should have given it to you
long ago.

It belonged to my little girl...

who had to leave us
when she was very young.

But now, it will make
music again.

Thank you, Mr. Laurence.

- Merry Christmas!
- Merry Christmas.

Play something, Beth.

Shall I?

Deck the halls
with boughs of holly

Fa la la la la
La la la la

'Tis the season to be jolly

Fa la la la la
La la la la

Don we now our gay apparel

Fa la la la la la
La la la

Troll the ancient yuletide carol

Fa la la la la
La la la la

See the blazing yule before us

Fa la la la la
La la la la

Strike the harp
and join the chorus

Fa la la la la
La la la la

Follow me in merry measure

Fa la la la la la
La la la

While I tell
of yuletide treasure

Fa la la la la
La la la la

That was good.

I fear you would have
a long engagement.

Three or four years. John must secure
a house before you can marry...

and he must do a service
to the Union.

John? Marry?

You mean
that pokey old Mr. Brooke?

How did he weasel his way
into this family?

John has been very kind to go visit
father in the hospital every day.

He's dull as powder. Meg, can't you
at least marry someone amusing?

I'm fond of Mr. Brooke.
He's a good man.

He's kind and serious...

and I'm not afraid
of being poor.

Marmee, you can't just
let her go and marry him.

I'd hardly just go
and marry anyone.

I would rather Meg marry for love
and be a poor man's wife...

than marry for riches
and lose her self-respect.

So you don't mind
that John is poor?

No, but I would rather
he have a house.

Why must we marry at all?

Why can't things
just stay as they are?

It is only a proposal.
Nothing need be decided.

Now, girls...

let's not spoil the day.

Hark the herald angels sing

Glory to the newborn king

Glory to the newborn king

Peace on earth

- Father?
- And mercy mild

- Father!
- Merry Christmas, everyone.

What a wonderful
Christmas present!

Oh, Father, you're home!

Oh, you're more handsome than ever!

Beth, my little cookie.
Thank God you're well.

Give the man room to breathe.

Jo! Oh, my wild girl!

Well, this could
become the fashion.

- Watch his arm. Be careful.
- I'm not used to this.

Be very careful now.

Don't coddle this soldier too much.

Oh, Father!

Hannah, God bless you.
It's good to see you.

It's good to have you home,
Mr. March.

Now, let me look at my girls.

Take them and give them--

The cholera took more men
than the rebs, as I understand it, sir.

Agriculture isn't taught,
and it should be.

It should be required.

Perhaps the freedmen
should be given land in the West.

- What happened between you and John?
- Never you mind.

Isn't it wonderful, Jo?

Yes, it's wonderful.

Welcome home, soldier.
Would you like some water, sir?

From our birth

Over and around us lies

Lord of all
to Thee we raise

This our hymn
of grateful praise

Change will come as surely
as the seasons and twice as quick.

We make our peace with it
as best we can...

or as Amy once said when she
was still a little girl:

"We'll all grow up someday.
We might as well know what we want."

Sun and moon and stars of light

Lord of all
to Thee we raise

This our hymn
of grateful praise

Lord of all
to Thee we raise

This our hymn
of grateful praise

So you feel our Amy has talent?

Oh, Miss March
excels at drawing...

but, you know,
her landscapes lack emotion.

I definitely feel Amy would
benefit from further study...

but she won't get it around here.

Where do you suggest?

Cape Cod has
a fine artist colony...

but Europe is the best place.

Your houseman said
you wouldn't be home till night.

- I couldn't wait so long.
- Hail the conquering graduate!

Is Grandfather exceedingly proud?

Yes, and exceedingly bent on
locking me up in one of his offices.

Why is it Amy may paint china
and you can scribble away...

while I must manfully
set my music aside?

Why must you?

If I don't...

I'd have to defy Grandfather.

Yes, and not
the whole of society.

I can't go against the old man.

When I imagine myself
in that life...

I can think of only one thing...

that would make me happy.

Oh, no, Teddy.

Teddy, don't.

No, wait, Teddy.

We have to talk
about this reasonably.

I have loved you...

since the moment
I clamped eyes on you.

Would could be more reasonable
than to marry you?

- We'd kill each other.
- Nonsense.

- Neither of us can keep our temper.
- I can...

unless provoked.

We're both stupidly stubborn,
especially you.

- We'd only quarrel.
- I wouldn't!

You can't even propose
without quarreling.

Dear Jo, I swear
I'll be a saint.

I'll let you win every argument.

I'll take care of you
and your family.

I'll give you every luxury
you've ever been denied.

You won't have to write
unless you want to.

Grandfather...

wants me to learn
the business in England.

Can't you see us
bashing around London?

London.

Oh, Teddy, I'm not
fashionable enough for London.

You need someone
who's elegant and refined.

I want you.

Teddy, please, don't ask me.

- Teddy, I'm desperately sorry.
- No.

- I do care for you...
- No.

with all of my heart.

You're my dearest friend.

I just can't go be a wife.

You say you won't,
but... you will.

I won't.

One day...

you'll meet some man.

A good man.

And you will love him
tremendously.

And you will live
and die for him.

- Teddy, please.
- You will.

I know you.

And I'll be hanged...

if I stand by and watch.

Jo, are you ill?

She has refused Laurie.

Well, I'm sure
she can take it back.

It's just a misunderstanding.

Listen to him.

I must get away.

Of course.

Aunt March is going to France.

France! That's ideal!
I'll put up with anything to go!

Aunt March has asked me to go.

To Europe?

My Europe?

When?

It was decided just today.

Well, I am her companion now.

She wishes me
to study painting abroad...

in hopes I might make
a good match there.

But perhaps she wouldn't mind
if you stayed at Plumfield...

while we are gone.

Of course Aunt March
prefers Amy over me.

Why shouldn't she? I'm ugly and awkward,
and I always say the wrong things.

I fly around throwing away
perfectly good marriage proposals.

I love our home, but I'm just so fitful
that I can't stand being here!

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, Marmee.

There's just something
really wrong with me.

I want to change,
but I can't...

and I just know
I'll never fit in anywhere.

Jo, you have so many
extraordinary gifts.

How can you expect
to lead an ordinary life?

You're ready to go out and find
a good use for your talent.

Although I don't know
what I shall do without my Jo.

Go...

and embrace your liberty...

and see what wonderful things
come of it.

Laurie sought his refuge
in London and abroad.

Marmee helped me find a place
in the great city of New York...

and so I stepped over the divide between
childhood and all that lay beyond.

Mrs. Kirk?

Josephine!

- Yes. How do you do?
- Kitty, Minnie.

This is Miss March.

Her father was Colonel March.
He knew your papa.

- It was cold.
- Watch your feet, Mr. Costigan.

- Do come in, my dear.
- You're making that up.

Dear Beth: Marmee's friend, Mrs. Kirk,
has made me feel quite at home.

My little students, Kitty and Minnie,
are dear girls.

How curious to grow up
in a busy boarding house...

with no father
and your own mother the innkeeper.

I felt bold
on leaving Concord...

but I confess I find New York
rough and strange...

and myself strange in it.

Please pass these down the table.
Thank you kindly, Professor.

Mrs. Kirk believes
that I am here...

for a brief interlude
of sensational experience...

before succumbing
to a matrimonial fate.

Excuse me, miss.

And while there is surely no lack
of sensational experience...

of every kind available
in such a city...

- Come in!
- I hope, though I've had no luck yet...

that any experience I gain here
will be strictly literary...

and that all events of a romantic
or sensational nature...

will be entirely confined
to the page.

Our subscribers are not interested
in sentiment and fairy stories, miss.

They're not fairy stories.

Try one of the ladies' magazines.

- Come on, Will! Hurry up!
- I'm coming!

I'm so sorry.
I'm so clumsy.

You know that when first
I saw you, I thought...

"Ah! She is a writer."

What made you think so?

Yes, I know many writers.

In Berlin I was professor
at the university.

Here I am just
a humble tutor, I'm afraid.

Please, sit down.

Thank you.

You are far from home,
Miss March?

- Do you miss your family?
- Oh, very much.

My sisters especially.

And Laurie.

She is your sister?

No, he's a friend.

You like your coffee?

Oh, it's... just very strong.

I like it.

You have quite a library.

Did you bring all these books
from Germany?

A few of them.

- May I?
- Of course.

Most of these I could not bear
to leave behind.

I sold everything that I own
to get my passage to come here...

but my books...

never.

Shakespeare.

Some books are so familiar.

Reading them
is like being home again.

Will you be returning to Berlin,
Professor Bhaer?

Friedrich.
Call me Friedrich.

Friedrich.

No. Sadly, the fatherland
of Goethe and Schiller...

is no more.

I adore Goethe.

My father used to read me all
the German poets when I was a child.

Really?
That is most surprising.

My mother and father
were part of...

a rather unusual circle
in Concord.

Do you know the word
"transcendentalist"?

But this is
German romantic philosophy.

We throw off all our constraints
and we come to know ourselves...

through insight and experience.

It got out of fashion now.

Not in the March family,
I'm afraid.

It's just that with all
of this transcendence...

comes much emphasis
on perfecting oneself.

This gives you a problem?

I'm hopelessly flawed.

If only we could...

transcend ourselves
without perfection.

Like your poet,
Walt Whitman...

who rides up and down the streets
of Broadway all day...

shouting poetry
against the roar of the carts.

"Keep your silent woods,
O Nature...

- "And your quiet places by the river--
- And your quiet places by the woods...

by the woods.

Give me the streets of Manhattan."

I think we are all
hopelessly flawed.

He is as poor as one might imagine
an itinerant philosopher to be.

Yet, as the weeks go by, I see
that he is unfailingly generous...

to all of us
who live in the house.

I am grateful to have a friend.

It is the system
our nation was founded on.

Come now. It was nothing short of
a betrayal of our country's ideals.

Our country's ideals?

A constitution...

that denies the basic rights of
citizenship to women and black people?

They just passed
the 15th Amendment, Jacob.

- They can vote.
- Black men can vote, Charles.

A lady has no need of suffrage
if she has a husband.

- You don't take wine?
- Only medicinally.

Pretend that you've got a cold.

I agree, but if women
are a moral force...

shouldn't they have the right to govern
and preach and testify in court?

What is it, Miss March?

I find it poor logic to say
that because women are good...

women should vote.

Men do not vote because they are good.
They vote because they are male.

And women should vote not because
they are angels and men are animals...

but because we are human beings
and citizens of this country.

You should have been a lawyer,
Miss March.

I should have been
a great many things, Mr. Mayer.

Oh, I'm sorry.

No, please.
Please, come in.

I have some good news.

A newspaper has published two of
my stories, and they wish to see more.

This is wonderful.

Right there.

- The Daily Volcano?
- Yes.

"The Sinner's Corpse"...

by Joseph March.

Lunatics. Vampires.

This interests you?

People like
thrilling stories, Friedrich.

This is what
the newspapers want.

Yes. Yes, I suppose.

I suppose that is true.

It will buy a new coat for Beth, and
I'm sure she'll be grateful to have it.

I do not want to be your teacher.
No, understand me.

I am saying only that you
should please yourself.

My opinion is of no importance.

Do you forgive me?

- Of course.
- Then I make a gift.

An experience.
Do you like the opera?

Oh, I do.
I mean, I think I do.

We don't seem to get
a lot of opera in Concord.

I don't have an opera dress.

You will be perfect.

Where we are sitting,
we shall not be so...

formal.

Leila is a goddess.

She has made a promise
never to love.

If she breaks her vow,
all will be lost.

Oh, look.
Trouble is coming.

- What's going to happen?
- The inevitable.

Leila's soul is opening.

She's drawn to an idea.

He says,
"Love has a fatal power."

Your heart...

understood mine.

In the depth
of the fragrant night...

I listened
with ravished soul...

to your beloved voice.

Your heart understood mine.

Oh, Laurie!
You wicked!

We heard you were
in Greece or somewhere.

Laurie! Come! Come!

You've been much occupied
with business, I am sure.

I'm not pursuing business just now.

Grandfather agreed
I should concentrate...

on my music for a while.

You know Fred Vaughan?

- Freddy.
- Good day, Laurence.

Yes. I see you've taken up
a passion for art, Freddy.

Aunt March,
you look splendid.

I cannot say
the same for you, my boy.

Amy dear.

- Will you be long? I must retire.
- Yes, Aunt March.

Do come see us.

- Are they engaged?
- Not yet.

Hop, hop.

One, two, three, four.

Hop, hop, hop, turn.

Friedrich, how long would it take
strychnine to dissolve in brandy?

Oh. About eight minutes?

And is a dagger worn at the waist,
or is that a saber?

I think that in these novels...

the dagger is usually
concealed in the boot...

by a man
with a dark moustache.

Go this way.

Hurry! Hurry!

Oh, Laurie, how lovely.

It isn't what it should be,
but you have improved it.

Please don't.

I liked you much better
when you were blunt and natural.

It did not serve me well.

I find you changed.

In fact, I despise you.

You laze about spending your family's
money and courting women.

You aren't serious about music.

My compositions
are like your paintings:

mediocre copies
of another man's genius.

Then why don't you go to Grandfather
in London and make yourself useful?

I should.

Why don't you reform me?

I've someone
more practical in mind.

You do not love Fred Vaughan.

Fred Vaughan is stable
and well-mannered--

And has 40,000 a year.

I've always known
I would not marry a pauper.

I expect a proposal any day.

You'll regret it.

I'll regret it.

I'm reminded of a promise.

Didn't I say I would kiss you
before you die?

Do you hear from Jo?

She has befriended
a German professor.

Yes. No doubt
he's showing her...

the ways of the world.

I do not wish to be courted by someone
who is still in love with my sister!

I'm not in love with Jo.

Then how do you explain
your jealousy?

I envy her happiness.

I envy his happiness.

I envy John Brooke
for marrying Meg.

I hate Fred Vaughan.

If Beth had a lover,
I would despise him too.

Just as you have always known
you would never marry a pauper...

I have always known...

I should be part
of the March family.

I do not wish to be loved
for my family.

Any more than Fred Vaughan wishes
to be loved for his 40,000 a year.

My darling Amy.

It is you I want
and not your family.

I've gone to London
to make myself worthy of you.

Please, do not do anything
we shall regret.

Monsieur Vaughan, mademoiselle.
May I show him in?

- Friedrich, did you read it?
- Yes.

It's well written, Jo.

And the first novel.
What a great accomplishment.

I'm going to be showing it to your
publisher friend, Mr. Fields, today.

He liked "The Sinner's Corpse."

What is it?

Mr. Fields is a good man.
He will give you an honest opinion.

Oh, I see.

What is your honest opinion?

- I'm a professor of philosophy.
- No, I'd like to know what you think.

You should be writing from life...

from the depths of your soul.

There is nothing in here of the woman
that I am privileged to know.

Friedrich, this is what I write.

My apologies if it fails
to live up to your high standards.

Jo, there is more to you than this...

if you have
the courage to write it.

Why didn't you tell me?

One hardly speaks
of such things.

Oh, how wonderful.

How is Beth?

You will find her much altered.

Marmee.

She wouldn't let us
send for you sooner.

The doctor has been here
a number of times...

but it's beyond all of us,
and I think--

I think she's been
waiting for you...

before--

You're going to drink up
all of this good broth.

I'm glad you're home.

So am I.

"Mr. Pickwick changed color.
'Ah,' said Mr. Wartle.

'Well, that's important. There's
nothing suspicious then, I suppose."'

I feel stronger
with you close by.

I'm going to get you better yet.

If God wants me with Him,
there is none who will stop Him.

I don't mind.

I was never like
the rest of you...

making plans about
the great things I'd do.

I never saw myself
as anything much.

Not a great writer like you.

Beth, I'm not a great writer.

But you will be.

Oh, Jo, I've missed you so.

Why does everyone
want to go away?

I love being home.

But I don't like
being left behind.

Now I am the one going ahead.

I am not afraid.

I can be brave like you.

But I know
I shall be homesick for you...

even in heaven.

I won't let you go.

Oh, my Jo.

Aunt March is bedridden
and would not survive a sea voyage.

Amy must bide her time
and return later.

It's just as well.

Will we never all
be together again?

Lovely morning.

Thank you, sir.

Dearest Laurie:

You may not have heard
our sad news of Beth's--

"Meg has entered
her confinement...

and poor Amy must stay in Vevey
with Aunt March."

This is far too great a sorrow
to bear alone.

Please come home to us,
Teddy dear.

Your faithful, Jo.

I knew you would come.

The real charm of it
lay in Beth's happy face...

as she leaned over the new piano
and lovingly touched...

the beautiful
black and white keys.

During the next few minutes,
the rumor circulated...

that Amy March had got
24 delicious limes.

I told you they dressed me up,
but I didn't tell you...

that they powdered and squeezed
and made me look a fashion plate.

As she spoke,
Jo took off her bonnet.

A general outcry arose, for all
her abundant hair was cut short.

Jo, how could you?
Your one beauty.

Nothing's going to change, Jo.

For the beauty of the earth

For the glory of the skies

For the love
which from our birth

Over and around us lies

Lord of all
to Thee we raise

This our hymn
of grateful praise

Surprise!

John, you have a daughter.

And a son.

Oh, Marmee, I can't believe
you did this four times.

Yes, but never two at once,
my darling.

Oh, Daisy.

Oh, Meg, she's so beautiful.

And him.
He is handsome.

He's going to look just like his papa
when he grows up.

Yes, he does look like John.

Have you heard
from the professor?

We did not part well.

John and I don't always agree,
but then we mend it.

Who could that be?

Oh, this is magic!

You are absolutely--

Covered in flour!
Oh, dear!

- Come in.
- No, Jo, not yet.

May I tell you something
without the others?

You're my dear friend.

I'm glad that you shall be
the first to know.

- What?
- May I present...

my wife.

Oh, my!

- Here, flowers.
- Thank you.

Come in!

Brussels lace! Oh!

I went to Europe to paint
the great cathedrals...

but I couldn't get our home
out of my mind.

Oh, look how Amy
has captured Orchard House.

- Lovely.
- Oh, it's beautiful.

Not as beautiful as I wanted,
but I am still learning.

Dear little angel.

Jo, you must tell me the truth,
as a sister...

which is a relation
stronger than marriage.

Do you mind at all?

Oh, no.

I was surprised.

Mind you, I had it
on good authority that our Teddy...

would never love another.

And now he's gone
and gotten married.

It's good to hear you
call me Teddy again.

At last, we're all family,
as we always should have been.

You must promise me that you
will always live close by.

I couldn't bear
losing another sister.

Jo, it's so gloomy and chilly.

One would require an income
just for the coal to heat this place.

What could the dear old girl
have been thinking?

Most likely
she felt sorry for me.

Decrepit homeless spinster!

Oh, poor Aunt.

Living here all those years alone
in this useless old house.

Yes, her blessings became a burden
because she couldn't share them.

Wouldn't this have made
a wonderful school?

A school.

What a challenge that would be.

Hello, Tuppy. Hello.

Good boy.

My book!

Someone's publishing my book.

- Someone's publishing my book!
- Heaven help us!

It came with no letter.
How did it arrive?

Foreign gentleman brung it.
Strange kind of name.

Can't think of it.
Oh, Fox, or Bear or such.

Bhaer!
Did you ask him to wait?

I thought he was one of Miss Amy's
European friends...

coming with a wedding gift.

I said, "Miss March and Mr. Laurie
are living next door."

- Hannah, you didn't!
- Then he said he had a train to catch.

Friedrich!

Oh, Friedrich,
thank you for my book.

When I didn't hear from you...

I thought you hated it.

Oh, no. Reading your book
was like opening a window...

into your heart.

James Fields took it out of my hands,
and he would not give it back to me.

I said, "Such news
I have to give to her myself."

Well, it was a silly impulse.

No, not silly at all.

It's so good to see you.

- Come and meet my family.
- No, I--

Thank you, but...

I have to catch a train.

I am going to the West.

My ship leaves from Boston
tomorrow morning.

Yes, the schools in the West
are young.

They need professors and...

they are not so concerned
about the accent.

I don't mind it either.

See, my aunt
left me Plumfield.

It isn't a field. It's a house,
actually. A rather large house.

And it isn't really good
for anything except a school...

and I want a good school...

one that would be open to anyone
who wanted to learn, and, well...

I'll be needing someone
who knows how to teach.

Is there nothing I might say
to keep you here?

I confess that I was hoping
that I might have a reason...

to stay, but...

congratulations on the celebration
of your marriage.

Oh, no!

No, that's Amy.
That's my sister.

Amy and Laurie, actually.

No, I'm not married.

Please don't go so far away.

Jo.

Such a little name for--

for such a person.

Will you have me?

With all of my heart!

But I have nothing to give you.
My hands are empty.

Not empty now.

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