All language subtitles for Little.Women.2019.1080p.BluRay.x264-YOL0W

Excuse me.

I was looking for
the Weekly Volcano office.

I wish to see Mr. Dashwood.

A friend of mine desired me
to offer a story by her.

She... She wrote it.

- She'd be glad to write more if this suits.
- Not a first attempt, I take it.

No, sir. She has sold to Olympic
and Scandal,

and got a prize for a tale
at the Blarneystone Banner.

A prize?

Yes.

Sit.

We'll take this.

Oh, you will?

With alterations. It's too long.

Uh... but you've cut...

I took care to have
a few of my sinners repent.

The countryjust went through a war.

People want to be amused,
not preached at.

Morals don't sell nowadays.

Perhaps mention that
to your friend.

What compensation...?
How do you...?

We pay 25 to 30 for things
of this sort.

We'll pay 20 for that.

You can have it. Make the edits.

Should I tell my friend that you'll take
another if she had one better than this?

We'll look at it.
Tell her to make it short and spicy.

And if the main character's a girl,
make sure she's married by the end.

- Or dead. Either way.
- Excuse me?

What name would she like put to the story?

Oh, uh... Yes, none at all, if you please.

Just as she likes, of course.

Oh, well... ha, ha.

Good morning, sir. Good day.

Yes!

My Beth would like you very much.

- I'd like a room for two people.
- Perfect. That's 4.50 a week.

- And that's a good price.
- Isn't that a little expensive?

This is a boardinghouse, not a charity.

I need the rent on time.

Good afternoon, Miss March.

Oh, good afternoon.

You're on fire.

Thank you.

You're on fire!

Oh! Oh!

- Thank you.
- I have the same habit. You see?

Oh.

Kitty and Minnie are waiting.

- Oh... My students need me.
- Always working.

Money is the end and aim of
my mercenary existence.

No one gets ink stains like yours
just out of a desire for money.

My sister Amy's in Paris,
and until she marries someone wealthy,

it's up to me to keep the family afloat.

Goodbye.

The Decadents have ruined Paris,
if you ask me.

These French women couldn't lift
a hairbrush.

- Amy!
- Mm.

I said, these French women
couldn't lift a hairbrush.

- Oh, yes. Very true, Aunt March.
- Oh...

Don't humor me, girl.

What do they write,
your troublemaking family?

Mother doesn't say anything
about Beth.

- I feel I should go back, but they all say, "Stay."
- You can do nothing if you go back.

The girl is sick, not lonely.

And you shouldn't go home until you
and Fred Vaughn are properly engaged.

Yes, and until I've completed
all of my painting lessons of course.

Ye... Oh, yes, yes.

Of course.

- Stop the carriage! Laurie!
- What are you doing?

- Laurie, Laurie, Laurie!
- Amy!

- Laurie!
- Amy!

Amy!

How are you?

- You've grown so much.
- You wrote you'd meet me at the hotel.

- I couldn't find you.
- You didn't look hard enough.

- I didn't recognize you. You're so beautiful now.
- Stop it.

- I thought you liked that.
- Where's your grandfather?

In Germany. He's still traveling.
I'm traveling on my own now. Just relaxing.

- Flirting and gambling and drinking.
- Yes. Don't tell your mother.

Are you chasing some young girl
across Europe?

No.

I couldn't believe Jo turned you down.
I'm so sorry.

Don't be, Amy. I... I'm not.

Amy!

Amy March!

- Come back here right this instant! Come.
- Aunt March.

Come on.

- Aren't you looking grand?
- Get him off me!

We need to be somewhere. Off you go!

Come to the New Year's Eve party.
Everyone will be there, including Fred.

Pick me up at the hotel at 8,
The Chavain. Oh...

Oh, and, Laurie, dress for festivities!

Top hats and silks!

I will. I'll wear my best silk.

It's Laurie.

I know.

Twenty yards of the blue silk, as well as pink.
Someone will be by for it later.

Oh, Meg, that'd look lovely on you.
I know just the dressmaker to send you to.

- You'll be the prettiest wife in Concord.
- Oh, I...

John needs a new coat for winter,
and Daisy and Demi need new clothes, I...

- And his wife needs a new dress.
- I can't. It's...

I just can't.

He'll be so pleased with how you look,
he'll forget all about the expense.

I don't suppose it's too much
an extravagance.

Will 20 yards do?

- Yes.
- Very good.

Fifty dollars? What was I thinking?

- Mommy!
- Mommy!

Oh, my loves.

Go play.

Beth!

Beth?

There lies your way, due west.

Then westward ho!

Grace and good disposition attend,
Your Ladyship.

You'll nothing, madam,
to my lord by me?

Stay, I prithee, tell me
what thou thinkest of me.

That you do think you are not what you are.

- If I think so, I think the same of you.
- Then think you right, I am not what I am.

Like, a big one.
Like, a big one... Like that.

Excuse me?

I only speak English. I'm sorry, what?

- What did you say?
- Come dance!

Oh!

I know exactly who I wanna dance with.

- Who will you dance with, Jo?
- I never dance.

Why can't we all go? It's not fair.

- Just wear your regular shoes.
- These fit last winter.

My nose will not look refined.

- I like your nose.
- Now, Jo.

Don't touch me, thanks. I already
feel ridiculous. I don't wanna look it.

- You could be pretty if you tried.
- Don't want to. Won't do it.

I don't want to go,
but I wish I could hear the music.

- I'll keep it in my head and sing it for you.
- Ought they to smoke like that?

It's the dampness drying.

What a queer smell, like burnt feathers.

Now I'll take this off
and you'll see a perfect ringlet.

Why is her hair off?

- Meg, I'm so sorry.
- What have you done?!

Sorry. You shouldn't have
asked me to do it.

Marmee!

I can't go, I'm spoiled!

My hair!

Don't stare, don't put your hands behind your back,
don't say "Christopher Columbus" or "capital."

- All right.
- Don't shake hands. Don't whistle.

Meg March, you look so pretty.

Meg.

Thank you.

No, it's so early. No.

Fine.

- Ooh! Sorry. I didn't know anyone was here.
- Not at all. Stay if you like.

- I won't disturb you?
- No. I don't know many people here.

- I felt rather strange at first, you know?
- Mm-hm. So do I.

- Miss March, isn't it?
- Yes, Mr. Laurence, but I'm not Miss March.

- I'm only Jo.
- And I'm not Mr. Laurence, I'm only Laurie.

Don't you dance?

I don't know how you do things here yet.
I've spent most of my life in Europe.

Europe! Oh, that's capital!

Shouldn't use words like that.

- Says who?
- Oh, Meg. She's my older sister. Here.

Um...

Oh, that's her. See?

- The girl in the violet dress.
- Mm.

It's very pretty.

She reminds me to be good,
so Father will be proud when he returns.

Where is he?

He volunteered for the Union Army.

I wanted to go fight with him. I can't get over
my disappointment in being a girl.

Jo, would you like to dance with me?

I can't because... Mm.

Because of what?

- You won't tell?
- Never.

I scorched my dress. See? There.

Meg told me to keep still,
so no one would see it.

You can laugh if you want to.
It's funny, I know.

I have an idea of how we can manage.

- What?
- My foot.

- I've hurt my ankle.
- Oh!

How am I gonna get home?

I don't see what you can do, except get
a carriage or stay here all night.

- Carriages are too expensive.
- Let me take you. It's right next door.

Oh, no, thank you. We cannot accept.

You must take mine, please?

No. It's so early.
You can't mean to leave yet.

I always leave early. I do, truly.

What choice do you have, hm?

- I told you those shoes were too small...
- Goodness gracious.

What have you done?

She's lame and can't walk.
She's hobbling.

Clear that chair.
You're supposed to be asleep.

All right, help your sister,
then back to bed.

Make room. Meg is a wounded soldier.

I sprained my ankle.

Meg, you'll kill yourself
for fashion one of these days.

Here. Hannah, we need ice!

- Oh, come in. Come in.
- Is it all right?

Apologies for the chaos.
I enjoy baking in the middle of the night.

- Don't mind the clutter, Mr. Laurence. We don't.
- Laurie, please.

- Can I call you Teddy?
- Yes.

You must be part of their theatricals.
They could use an extra player.

- I'm Amy.
- Hello.

You'll have to fight Jo
for the male roles or play a girl.

- Have a scone.
- Yes, thank you.

And ice.

- Laurie, how are your ankles? Do you need ice?
- No, thank you, ma'am.

Just call me "mother" or Marmee.
Everyone does.

- And you wore those pink shoes too, didn't you?
- It's cold.

- Do you want more ice?
- But they look so good, okay?

It feels like being a fine young lady
to come home from a party in a carriage

and have maids wait on me.

For the writer in the attic.

Because you enjoyed
the play so much tonight,

I wanted you to have this.

It will help you study character
and paint it with your pen.

I would love to read what you're writing,
if you'll trust me.

I promise honesty and whatever
intelligence I can muster.

Yours, Friedrich.

- Fred, would you like a glass?
- I will. Thank you.

Would you excuse me a second?

Laurie.

Amy.

I waited an hour for you.

I feel caught.

Hm...

Amy, please. Amy.

- Do you want to know what I think of you?
- What do you think of me?

- I despise you.
- Why do you despise me?

Because with every chance of being good,
happy and useful,

- you are lazy, faulty and miserable.
- Ooh...

- Interesting.
- Selfish people like to talk about themselves.

- Am I selfish?
- Yes, very selfish.

- With your money, talent, beauty, and health...
- Oh, you think I'm beautiful.

Yes, you like that, you old vanity.

With all these good things to enjoy,
you can find nothing to do but dawdle.

- I'll be good for you, Saint Amy. I'll be good.
- Aren't you ashamed of a hand like that?

No, I'm not.

Looks like it's never done a day of work
in its life, and that ring is ridiculous.

Jo gave me this ring.

I feel sorry for you.
I really do.

I just wish you'd bear it better.

You don't have to feel sorry.
You'll feel the same way one day.

No, I'd be respected
if I couldn't be loved.

What have you done lately,
oh, great artiste?

Perhaps you're fantasizing
about spending Fred Vaughn's fortune.

Fred Vaughn, ladies and gentlemen!

Fred, I...

I'm so sorry.

Those are just stories, of course.

But I'm working on a novel.

And your novel...

it will be like this?

Yes.

So far, anyway.

With plots like this?

- Duels and killing and...
- It sells, so...

- Why don't you sign your real name?
- My mother wouldn't like it.

It's too gory for her.

I wanna help with the money I make,
not worry her.

Mm...

You know, I don't like them.

Honestly...

I mean, I think that they're not good.

Uh... But...

They're...

They're published in the papers,

and people have always said that
I'm talented.

Oh, I think you're talented.

Which is why I'm being so...
So blunt.

Well, I can't afford to starve
on praise.

Are you upset?

Of course I'm upset. You just...

- You just told me you didn't like my work.
- Jo, I thought you wanted honesty.

I... Yes, I do.

Has no one ever talked to you
like this before?

Yes, I've been rejected plenty
of times.

Do you have anyone to take you seriously,
Jo, to talk about your work?

And who made you high priest
of what's good and what's bad?

- No one, and I'm not...
- Then why are you acting like it?

Your reaction indicates that you must
think there is some truth...

My reaction indicates that you are
a pompous blowhard.

Shakespeare wrote for the masses.

Shakespeare was the greatest poet who ever lived
because he smuggled his poetry in popular works.

- I'm no Shakespeare.
- Thank goodness. We already have him.

If you know so much about it,
then why don't you just do it yourself?

Because I'm not a writer.

- I don't have the gifts you have.
- No, you don't.

You will always be a critic,
never an author.

The world will forget that
you ever even lived.

- Oh, I'm sure they will.
- But...

I... But I...

No one will forget Jo March.

I can believe it.

Listen.

We are not friends.
You are not my friend.

I don't want your opinion
because I don't like you very much.

So just don't talk to me anymore.
Thank you.

Oh, Josephine, this came for you.

Oh, thank you.

Beth.

Merry Christmas, world.

Merry Christmas!

- Merry Christmas.
- Beth, give me another orange.

- Jo, we've been up for hours.
- What have you been writing?

Oh, I got carried away
with our delicious revenge play last night, Poison.

No, no poison. It's Christmas.

- Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents.
- It's so dreadful being poor.

It's not fair. How come some girls have pretty things
and others have nothing at all?

- We have Father, Mother and each other.
- We haven't got Father for as long as this war drags on.

I wish I had heaps of money and plenty
of servants, so I never had to work again.

Or you could be a proper actress on the boards.
They aren't all fallen women.

I can't be an actress.

I have lots of wishes, but my favorite one
is to be an artist in Paris

and to do fine pictures and to be
the best painter in the world.

That's what you want too, isn't it, Jo?
Be a famous writer?

- Yes, but it sounds crass when she says it.
- Why be ashamed of what you want?

My wish is to have us all to be together
with Father and Mother in this house.

- That's what I want.
- Beth is perfect.

- Amy.
- What about your music, Queen Beth, huh?

- I do that for us. I don't need anyone else to hear it.
- You must not limit yourself.

Mother proposed not having any presents this year
because our men are suffering in the Army.

We can't do much, but we can make
our little sacrifices and do it gladly.

Don't play mother just
because she's not home.

- Jo, that's so boyish.
- That's why I do it.

- I detest rude, unladylike girls.
- I hate affected little chits.

- Jo!
- My nose! My nose!

It's already no good!

Jo! Jo!

I know you don't care what I think, but you don't
want your mother to find you like this, do you?

- We care what you think, Hannah.
- You're more family than wicked old Aunt March.

- Oh, don't, Jo.
- Where is Marmee? I'm starving.

Goodness only knows.
Some poor creature came a-begging.

Your ma set off to see what was needed.

- I wish she could help others at a time convenient to us.
- Joanna and I are very hungry.

Dolls don't get hungry, Beth.

I've rewritten the climax. We need to
set it to memory. Amy, get the costumes.

I have made the most divine crown,

and I painted my old shoes blue,
so she looks like a princess!

- The melancholy piece I've figured out is pretty good.
- Wait until you see this new speech.

I don't see how you can write such splendid things, Jo.
You're a regular Shakespeare.

Not quite. Miss Michelangelo,
can you please rehearse the fainting scene?

- You're as stiff as a poker.
- I can't help it.

I never saw anyone faint before.
I don't intend to make myself all black and blue.

If I can fall down easily, I'll drop.

And if I cannot,
I shall fall gracefully into a chair.

And I don't care if Hugo comes
at me with a pistol.

- Hannah?
- I'm not acting.

- I didn't even say anything.
- I knew what you were going to say, and I'm not acting.

I need both of you
to kneel right there.

- I need you to kneel.
- I don't want to kneel.

This is supposed to be our special scene,
and no one's gonna be looking at us.

- Smile.
- I don't want to.

You have to. And I think
Meg should be the director.

So I think that
she'll need to kneel...

- But it's our scene.
- If you'll kneel and look...

Merry Christmas, girls.

- Marmee!
- Oh, merry Christmas!

I'm so glad to see you so happy.
How's your play?

Jo, you look tired. Were you up
again all night writing?

- Of course.
- Amy, come kiss me. Thank you.

Merry Christmas.
How are my girls?

- I'm so hungry.
- Look at this.

- I could eat a horse.
- Don't say that, Jo.

What?

What is it?

Not far from here lives
a poor young woman, Mrs. Hummel.

Her five children are in one bed to keep
from freezing, and there's nothing to eat.

Will you give them your breakfast
as a Christmas present?

Is this where you say that
Father would want us to?

Yes.

Thank you.

And thank you, Mr. Laurence,
for including me.

You're welcome.

Perhaps you could tutor
my grandson in manners,

as well as mathematics, huh?

Oh, girls...

Be careful.

Watch yourselves.

Out here with no sleeves.

It is good angels come to us.

Hello.

I'm back. And have food
and blankets.

And sweaters.

And we brought some medicine.

So these are my girls.

Say hello.

He is not well.

Girls, why don't you
unpack the food?

Would you like some?

You want one?

Yeah, have it all.

- Why don't we put some firewood?
- It's good, isn't it?

That's nice, huh?

- Marmee, we don't need our toes.
- I think I've lost one.

Has anyone else lost their toe?

- That was amazing.
- I can't even feel my feet anymore.

Is it fairies?

Santa Claus.

- No, it's old Aunt March.
- Mr. Laurence sent it.

- The Laurence boy's grandfather?
- Yes.

Why?

He saw you giving your Christmas breakfast
away and he wanted you to enjoy the day.

- But I thought he was a mean old man.
- It's so generous of him.

His grandson, Laurie, put the idea
into his head. I know he did.

We should make friends with him.

Boys scare me, and that big old
house scares me.

Jenny Snow says that Mr. Laurence disowned his son
after he went off with an Italian woman.

Now his grandson is an orphan

and spends all of his time in that house,
locked up with his tutor.

He's a very kind man who lost his little girl
when she was only a child.

- Now his son as well.
- His daughter died?

- That's so sad.
- But doesn't Laurie just seem so romantic? He's half Italian.

What do you know?
You've barely spoken to him. Ow!

I'm not responsible for this feast,
but I have got a surprise.

- Is he coming home?
- A letter from Father!

Don't I wish I could go?

Jo, we can't give up
our only brother.

It must be so disagreeable
to sleep in a tent.

- Jo sits in the back, so we can't see her cry.
- So, what if I do?

- Will he be coming home?
- He'll stay and work faithfully as long as he can.

And we won't ask for him to come back
a minute sooner than he can be spared.

"Give them all my dear love and a kiss.

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

and find my best comforts
in their affection at all times.

A year seems a very long time
to wait before I see them.

But remind them that while we wait,
we may all work, so these hard days...

need not be wasted.

I know that they will be
loving children to you.

Do their duty faithfully.

Fight their enemies bravely.

And conquer themselves
so beautifully."

The Witch's Curse,
a play by Jo March.

Make it sweet and swift
and strong...

- "That when I come back to them..."
- Spirit, answer now my song.

"...I may be...

fonder and prouder than ever...

of my little women."

B rava!

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Excuse me. Your stop, ma'am.

Oh, thank you.

She's gone? Why?

I don't know. She just left.

- But she didn't say if she was coming back?
- We didn't have a heart-to-heart, professor.

Why are you just sitting there?
Please, go, go. Dust something.

And what about the girls?
She was the best teacher they ever had.

I know.

It is so hard to go back
to work after such good times.

- I wish it was Christmas every day.
- Or New Year's. Wouldn't that be exciting?

We are a bunch of ungrateful minxes.

- Jo! Don't say such despicable things.
- I like good, strong words that mean something.

- I have to go back to school, and I don't have any limes.
- Limes?

All the girls are trading pickled limes,
and I'm in debt. I owe ever so many limes.

- Will this do?
- What'd you do that for?

Meg, thank you.

I know what it is to want little things
and feel less than other girls.

- That and the drawings will wipe out my debt.
- Drawings?

Nothing. I'm just glad Mother doesn't
make me go to school with those girls.

Hurry. I'll be late.

Beth, after your shopping, I need you to work
your way through the new sums and spelling.

- I'll check it all when I get home, all right?
- Fine.

Bye.

Ooh!

- Josephine.
- Yes?

- Oh... Josephine.
- Yes? Here.

Is there a reason
you stopped reading Belsham?

I'm sorry.

I'll continue.

You mind yourself, deary.

Someday you'll need me
and you'll wish you had behaved better.

Thank you, Aunt March, for your employment
and your many kindnesses,

but I intend to make my way in the world.

Oh, well.

No. No one makes their own way.

Not really.

Least of all, a woman.
You'll need to marry well.

- But you are not married.
- That's because I'm rich.

And I made sure
to keep hold of my money.

Unlike your father.

So the only way to be
an unmarried woman is to be rich?

Yes.

- There are precious few ways for women to make money.
- That's not true.

You could run a cathouse.

Or go on the stage.

Practically the same thing.

Other than that, you're right.

Precious few ways for women.

- That's why you should heed me.
- So I can get married.

No. So you can live a better life
than your poor mother has.

- But Marmee loves her life.
- You don't know what she loves.

Your father cared more about educating freedmen's children
than he did about caring for his own family.

Yes, but he was right.

Well, it's possible
to be right and foolish.

Well, I don't think so.

Well, you're not paid to think.

I know you don't care much
about marriage now.

Can't say I blame you.

But I intend to go to Europe one more time
and I need a companion,

so how would you like
to be the person I take?

- I'd like that more than anything.
- All right, then read.

And don't sneak around.

I don't like sneaks.

President Lincoln.

No, Father's fighting for him.

My father says the war is a waste
and we should just let them keep their labor.

Susan, it is immoral.

Everyone benefited from the system,
including you Marches.

- Why should only the South be punished?
- Maybe we should all be punished.

- The Marches love a cause.
- Fine. Just do Mr. Davis.

- I don't know if I should.
- I'll wipe out your debt and give you five limes.

...your spelling and, moreover, your reading habit.

Miss March.

Sit down.

Sit down, Laurie.

Latin is a privilege.

Please, you have to learn this.

I can't afford to lose this position.
Just return to the Cicero...

- There's a girl out there.
- No, there is not.

- Yes, Mr. Brooke, there is a girl.
- No, there's not.

I'll never get to go home again.

- There is a girl.
- That's a girl.

Hello there. Are you hurt?

- I'm Amy.
- Hello, Amy. I'm Laurie.

I know. You brought my sister back
after the dance.

I would've never have
sprained my ankle.

I have lovely small feet,
the best in the family.

But I can never go home again
because I'm in such trouble.

Look.

Mr. Davis hit me.

Tell the servants I want this
painting purchased for me.

- Amy! Are you in here?
- Meg! My hand. Look.

- Jo.
- What richness.

It hurts so much.

You ought to be the happiest boy
in the world.

- A fellow can't live on books alone.
- I could.

- What did you do?
- I did a drawing, and then Mr. Davis hit me.

- Oh, Christopher Columbus, look at that.
- That's my grandfather.

- Are you scared of him?
- No, I'm not scared of anyone.

He looks stern, but my grandfather
was much more handsome.

Jo, we do not compare grandfathers.

- You think he's more handsome, eh?
- Oh...

- No, actually, you are very handsome. I didn't mean...
- I knew your mother's father.

You've got his spirit.

Oh, well, thank you, sir.

- You are not to attend that school anymore.
- Good. That man has always been an idiot.

- Jo will teach you.
- Me? I already teach Beth.

You're a good teacher.

Yes, women being taught at home
is much more proper, I believe.

- Only because the schools for women are so poor.
- Indeed. Quite right.

I wish all the girls would leave his school
and that he would die.

- Amy, you did wrong and there'll be consequences.
- I didn't even do anything. I just did a drawing.

- Thank you so much for taking care of Amy.
- Oh, yes, of course.

My girls have a way of getting
into mischief.

Well, so do I.

Then you'll run over
and we'll take care of you.

Come over whenever you'd like.
Invite Beth as well.

- Yes! Beth would adore the piano.
- Is she the quiet one?

Yes, that's our Beth.

- Tell that little girl to use our piano.
- Thank you.

Jo, borrow whatever book you'd like.

- Can I come look at the paintings?
- Yes.

There's also a lovely greenhouse.

We must go. Girls.

- Mr. Laurence, can you please buy this painting?
- I'm going to take this. If that's okay.

- I'll bring it back soon. I promise you.
- Thank you again.

Thank you for my hand!

- Thank you!
- Goodbye.

Oh, Miss Meg?

You forgot your glove.

Well, back to work.

Back to work.

Order!

Order. Order. Order!

A new play written by Miss Jo March
will appear at the Barnville Theater

in the course of the next few weeks
that will surpass

anything ever seen before
on the American stage.

Starring the greatest actress from here
to the Mississippi River, Miss Meg March.

Yes. There we go. Very good.
Excellent. Bravo.

- Weekly report. Meg good, Jo bad.
- Mm-hm.

Beth very good.
And Amy sort of middling.

- Very well done, sirs.
- Excellent.

- Excellent, excellent.
- Bravo.

Mr. President and gentlemen,

I wish to propose the admission
of a new member.

One who would be deeply,
deeply grateful

and would add immensely
to the spirit of the club.

I propose...

Mr. Theodore Laurence!

- Absolutely not.
- No.

- What? Come, now. Let's have him.
- He's a real boy.

- We don't want any boys. This is a club for ladies.
- Yes.

- I think we should do it.
- Why?

- Even if we are afraid, I say yes.
- Why?

- It's Laurie.
- What? No.

It'll change everything.

I call a vote. Put your hands up.
"Aye, aye, aye."

- Don't put her hand up.
- Put your hand up. It's Laurie.

Fine. Aye.

And as there is no time
like the present...

Ladies, ladies,
please, please.

This is my stratagem. I deserve the blame.
Jo only gave in to it after lots of teasing.

- Yes.
- Yes, yes.

I merely wish to say as a slight token
of my gratitude that I...

- Yes, yes.
- Go on.

As a means of promoting friendly relations
between adjoining nations.

- And thus, I propose this set of keys
- Ooh!

for a little post office I've made
in the forest by the pond.

- Yes, four keys. They're for you, darling.
- Ooh!

- Meg, yes, yes. And for you.
- Oh, thank you very much.

This is for me. And without further ado,
thank you for your favor.

I will take my seat
as part of the club.

- Yes, well. Of course. Yes, yes.
- Bravo, bravo.

Welcome, Laurie.

- Three, four, five.
- You both got five.

- I asked the doctor.
- That's a draw, I think.

- It doesn't make sense.
- I know. I can't believe it.

Hello.

Jo!

Daisy and Demi! Can I have a hug?

Oh, you've gotten so big.

- I wish you were here to teach them.
- I know. Well, I'm here now.

- So good to have you home.
- Take this off.

I think the loneliness got to Beth,
though she ain't said anything.

- Where is Beth?
- She's upstairs. Oh, my Jo.

We all thought she was better,
but the fever'd weakened her heart.

Take this and find her
the best doctor you can.

- You need this money to live in New York.
- No, I'm not going back.

I'm using the rest to take her
to the sea and get her strong.

When's Amy coming home?

- We didn't want to worry her.
- Does she not know?

Beth insisted we not tell her
because she didn't want to ruin Amy's trip.

Amy has always had a talent
for getting out of the hard parts of life.

Jo, don't be angry with your sister.

I can't seem to find anything.

- Marmee, have you seen my glove?
- When did you last see it?

Jo! Jo, where are you?

- I can't find my other glove.
- Take mine.

- Jo, we're going to be late.
- Where are you going?

You're not invited.

- You're going somewhere with Laurie. I know it.
- Yes, we are. Now, stop bothering.

- You have the tickets?
- Yes. Hurry up.

You're going to the theater with Laurie.
Meg, can I come? Please, can I come?

- I'm sorry, but you weren't invited.
- You can't go, so don't be a baby and whine about it.

I've been shut up here,
and I never get to go anywhere.

- Beth has her piano, and I'm lonely.
- I can teach you chords.

I don't want chords.
I want to go to the theater.

No. I think you'd hate to poke yourself
in where you're not wanted.

- We already have to deal with dull Mr. Brooke.
- I like him. He's kind.

- But I can pay for myself.
- You will not come.

I'm sorry, my sweet, but Jo is right.

- No! Please.
- Next time.

- Come, Meg. Stop petting her.
- Please, please, please!

- You'll be sorry for this, Jo March!
- Amy!

You will! You'll regret this!

Stop looking at me like that!

Oh, uh...

- I loved every second of it.
- Ow. Jo!

- I thought the actress was...
- Very, very good.

- Yes, she was really good.
- She was. She was very good.

Bye!

Oh, I love the theater.

Meg, you're a million times better than she was.
Although she was a terrific fainter.

I wonder how she managed
to turn so white as she did.

That Mr. Brooke, could he be
any more obsequious?

- I thought he was very well-mannered.
- Hold on. Let me just get this idea down.

- Beth, what's your favorite eye color?
- Purple.

Mr. Brooke has blue eyes and an old soul,
which is much more important than money.

Has anyone taken my novel?

- No.
- No. Why?

Amy, you've got it.

- No, I haven't.
- That's a lie.

I haven't got it, I don't know
where it is, and I don't care.

Tell me, or I'll make you!

- I burnt it up!
- Marmee!

I burnt your book. I told you
I'd make you pay, and I did!

All right, Jo! Jo! Jo!
Please get off her!

Jo. Amy.

- Get her off!
- I hate you!

I'm sorry, Jo.

Amy.

It's just that the only thing
you care about is your writing.

And it's not as if I could've hurt you
by ruining one of your dresses,

and I really did want
to hurt you.

I am the most sorry for it now.
I'm so sorry.

Jo...

don't let the sun go down
on your anger.

Forgive her.

Help each other.

And you begin again tomorrow.

She doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

And I will hate her.
I will hate her forever!

Good morning.
Brisk and brilliant outside today.

- Last day at the river. Get your skates.
- Let's go!

Jo, you promised me
I could come last time. Jo!

Is she going
to be like this forever?

It was a very hard loss for her.

Is there nothing I can do?

Go after her. Don't say anything
till Jo has got good-natured with Laurie,

and then just say some kind thing.

I'm sure she'll be friends again.

Jo, wait!

I'm coming!

You said I could come last time!

Jo, Laurie, wait! I'm coming!

Wait!

Jo!

Stay near the edge.
It's not safe in the middle.

- Got it.
- Jo!

Jo, I'm coming!

Woo-hoo-hoo!

Jo!

Jo, let's go!

Jo, wait!

Jo!

- Are you all right?
- Yes.

- Help! Help me!
- Amy. It's Amy.

Come on. Come on, Jo.

Jo!

Jo!

Jo, get a branch. Get a branch.

- Amy.
- Jo!

Amy. Amy.

Help!

I can't breathe!

Jo, help me pull.
Amy, grab the branch. Grab it, Amy.

I'm so sorry.
Oh, my sister, my sister.

She's asleep.

If she had died,
it would have been my fault.

She'll be fine.

The doctor said that he didn't
even think she'd catch cold.

What is wrong with me?

I've made so many resolutions,

and I've written sad notes,
and I've cried over my sins...

but it just doesn't seem to help.

When I get in a passion,
I get so savage.

I could hurt anyone,
and I'd enjoy it.

You remind me of myself.

But you're never angry.

I'm angry nearly every day
of my life.

You are?

I am not patient by nature.

But with nearly 40 years of effort,

I'm learning to not let it
get the better of me.

Well, I'll do the same, then.

I hope you'll do
a great deal better than me.

There are some natures
too noble to curb

and too lofty to bend.

Jo.

Oh, Beth, my love. Oh.

- You didn't need to come.
- I never should have left.

Do you need anything? Here.

Take some water.

It's so good to see your face.

We're going to the sea to get you strong and well.

- The sea?
- I want you dancing by the time Amy gets back.

- She's not cutting her trip short, is she?
- No, no.

Good.

Is there any news?
What does she say?

She writes that Laurie is there.

I'm glad he's with her.

He won't respond
to any of my letters.

Do you miss him?

I miss everything.

I know.

- Hurry up, you two! Meg's gonna be gone for a week.
- We're coming!

You take the other carriage,
Laurie, and spy on Meg.

- Make sure she doesn't fall in love.
- I will.

It was nice of Annie to invite me
to her debutante ball.

- Thank you for letting me go.
- Just be who you are.

And wear this to the ball.
It was mine when I was your age.

I've never understood saving
jewelry until marriage.

You should have something that's just yours.
Pretty things should be enjoyed.

Yes, pretty things
should be enjoyed.

- Can I see it?
- Hannah!

I wish I could
go to the debutante ball.

Do you think this is a good idea,
her going away like this?

Girls have to go into the world
and make up their own minds about things.

- Don't forget about us.
- I won't, Jo. It's only a week.

- It's beautiful.
- It's not yours.

- It would look very good on me.
- She needs to have some decent shoes.

Thank you for the carriage, Mr. Laurence.
I don't know how to repay you.

Nonsense, nonsense.

- I said hi to the horses. They're very nice.
- Although there is one thing.

It occurred to me today that my daughter's
piano suffers from want of use.

Any of your girls like to run over
and practice on it now and then?

Just to keep it in tune. If they don't care
to come, why, then never mind.

Oh, sir, they do care.

Very, very much.

- You're the musical girl?
- I love it dearly.

And I'll come if you are quite sure
nobody will hear me and be disturbed.

Not a soul, my dear.

- Miss you.
- Bye.

- Can I borrow your ribbons?
- No.

- Bye!
- Be good. Enjoy the ball.

- Bye. I'll be back soon.
- Don't go and get married.

Don't go fall in love.

- Come back right now.
- I love you.

- Right this second.
- Right this second.

Whoa there.

Thank you.

I'd be so excited about tonight.

- Of course.
- Oh, no, I don't actually...

What dress will
you wear tonight, Meg?

- I will wear this one.
- That one? Can't you send home for another?

- I haven't got another.
- Only the one? Oh, that's so funny.

Not at all.

There's no need in sending home, Daisy.
I'm going to call you Daisy now.

I've got a sweet pink dress laid away,
and you'll wear it to please me, won't you, Daisy?

- If it's all right.
- Of course.

Everyone's in love with you, Daisy.

- You have to keep my dress.
- I can't keep your dress.

- You have to. Please.
- No.

I love seeing you in it.

Have fun, little Daisy.

Laurie. I didn't know
you were going to come.

Supposed to be a surprise.

And what a lovely surprise
it is.

- Why are they calling you Daisy?
- It's their pet name for me.

Meg is a perfectly good name.

It's just like playing a part
to be Daisy for a little while.

What would Jo say?

You wouldn't actually marry
one of these men, would you?

I might.

You'll get a terrible headache tomorrow.

Do you like how I look?

No, I don't.

Why not?

I don't like fuss and feathers.

You're the rudest boy I ever saw.

Please forgive me and come dance.

I'm afraid it would be
too disagreeable for you.

I don't like your dress,
but I think you are just splendid.

- Really?
- Really.

I know it's silly,
but please don't tell Jo.

Let me have my fun tonight. I'll be
desperately good for the rest of my life.

I'm sorry, John.

The silk was
the first real expense.

Ahem. Fifty dollars, while a lot,
is not, I suppose,

too much for a dress with all the notions
that are needed to finish it these days.

It's not exactly even a dress yet.
It's...

It's just the fabric.

Oh.

I see.

I know you're angry, John.

I don't mean to waste your money,
but I can't resist

when I see Sallie buying all she wants
and pitying me because I don't.

I try to be contented,
but it is hard.

And I'm tired of being poor.

I was afraid of this.

I do my best, Meg.

Oh, John.

My dear, kind, hardworking boy.

It was so ungrateful and wicked.

How could I say it?

- Perhaps you meant it.
- No, I didn't.

We'll work out a way to get
you your coat as well,

and then won't we be grand,
the two of us?

I can't afford it, my dear.

- John.
- I need to go to bed.

John.

And I really am very sorry that you've had
to do without so many beautiful things...

and that you're married to someone
who can't give them to you.

Hello, Amy.

I don't want to see you.

Don't be mad at me.
I'm sorry for how I behaved.

Have you been drinking again?

- Why are you being so hard on me? It's 4 p.m.
- Someone has to do it.

When do you begin your great work
of art, Raphaella?

Never.

"Never"? What? Why?

I'm a failure.

Jo is in New York being
a writer, and I'm a failure.

That's quite a statement
to make at 20.

Rome took all the vanity out of me,
and Paris made me realize I'd never be a genius,

- so I'm giving up all my foolish artistic hopes.
- Why should you give up?

- You have so much talent and energy.
- Talent isn't genius.

And no amount of
energy can make it so.

I want to be great
or nothing.

And I will not be some commonplace dauber,
and I don't intend to try anymore.

Heh. What women are allowed
into the club of geniuses anyway?

The Brontës?

Hmm.

- That's it?
- Yes, I think so.

And who always declares genius?

- Men, I suppose.
- They're cutting down the competition.

Ha, ha. That's a very complicated argument
to make me feel better.

Do you though?
Do you feel better?

- I do think, male or female, I am of middling talent.
- "Middling talent"?

Then may I ask
your last portrait be of me?

All right.

Now that you've given up
all your foolish artistic hopes...

Mm-hm?

what are you gonna do
with your life?

Polish up all my other talents
and become an ornament to society.

That's where Fred Vaughn
comes in, I suppose.

- Don't make fun.
- I said his name.

- You're not engaged, I hope.
- No.

But you will be if he goes
down properly on one knee?

Most likely, yes.

He's rich. Richer than you, even.

I understand queens of society can't
get on without money,

although it does sound odd from the mouth
of one of your mother's girls.

I've always known I would marry rich.
Why should I be ashamed of that?

It's nothing to be ashamed of,
as long as you love him.

I believe we have some power
over who we love.

It isn't something that
just happens to a person.

I think the poets might disagree.

Well, I'm not a poet.

I'm just a woman.

And as a woman, there's no way
for me to make my own money.

Not enough to earn a living
or to support my family.

If I had my own money,
which I don't,

that money would belong to my husband
the moment we got married.

If we had children,
they would be his, not mine.

They would be his property.

So don't sit there and tell me that marriage isn't
an economic proposition because it is.

It may not be for you,
but it most certainly is for me.

Oh, that's Fred.
Can you unbutton me, please?

Thank you.

How do I look?
Do I look all right?

You look beautiful.

You are beautiful.

Hmm.

Fred!

I've missed you.

This is Fred Vaughn and his sister, Kate.
Course you know Mr. Brooke.

This is Meg, Amy, Beth, and Jo.

- So pleased to meet you.
- Oh, how elegant.

I'm Amy March. You remember that name.
I'm gonna come find you one day in London.

Oh, I certainly will.

- Oh, that missed a boat.
- That's very kind.

- Well...
- Sorry.

I know something you don't know.

- Tell me this second.
- Has Meg perhaps mislaid a glove?

- Mr. Brooke has it!
- Yes.

- How do you know?
- I saw it.

- Where?
- In his pocket.

- All this time?
- Yes. Isn't it romantic?

- No, it's horrid.
- I thought you'd be pleased.

At the idea of anybody coming
to take Meg away? No, thank you.

Ah. You'll feel better when somebody comes
to take you away.

- I'd like to see anyone try it.
- I would like to see someone try as well.

"We could never have
loved the earth so well

if we had had no childhood
in it,

if it were not the earth where the same
flowers come up again every spring

that we used to gather
with our tiny fingers.

What novelty is worth
that sweet monotony

where everything is known
and loved

because it is known?"

How great is that?

Mm.

I love to listen
to you read, Jo,

but I just love it better when you read
the stories you've written.

I don't have any new stories.

Why not?

Haven't written any.

You have a pencil and paper.
Sit here and write me something.

I can't.

I don't think I can anymore.

Why?

It's just... no one even cares
to hear my stories anyway.

Write something for me.

You are a writer.

Even before anyone knew
or paid you.

I'm very sick,
and you must do what I say.

Do what Marmee taught us to do.

Do it for someone else.

If you're walking to Vermont,
there's a Mrs. Sewall in Keene, New Hampshire,

- who will give you room and board.
- There you are.

You should go home.
I can take care of this.

No, I need to be here.

I've spent my whole life ashamed
of my country.

No offense meant,
but you should still be ashamed.

I know. I am.

- Hello, sir.
- Hello, ma'am.

Do you have sons in the Army?

Yes, ma'am. I had four.

But two were killed,
and one is a prisoner.

I'm going to the other, who's very sick
in a Washington hospital.

You've done a great deal
for your country, sir.

I'd go myself if I was any use,
but as I ain't, I give my boys.

Sir, I'll get you a blanket...

to keep you warm.

- Thank you. God bless.
- Bless you, sir.

Mrs. March. Telegram
from Washington, ma'am.

- Is Jo back yet from Aunt March?
- No, I haven't seen her yet.

- I've got it!
- You want another pair of shoes?

Thank you.
I can't miss the last train.

- Hannah, did you get Father's nightshirts?
- Yes, I did.

What can I do to help,
Beth?

- Thank you for being here.
- Of course.

- Did you find the warm blanket?
- If I may be of any more assistance, please tell me.

- I'll look in on the girls every day without fail.
- Do we need more books or cloth?

Thank you.

I've always admired your husband.
I pray for a quick recovery.

I found these linens.

- Hannah, medicine?
- The medicine is all packed.

- Oh, I'm sorry.
- I came to offer myself as escort to your mother.

Mr. Laurence has commissions
in Washington,

and it would give me real satisfaction
to be of service to her there.

Oh.

- Thank you.
- Of course.

All right, while I'm gone,
Hannah is in charge.

Remember to check on the Hummels.
It will be a difficult winter for everyone.

Will this be enough
for the train?

Twenty-five dollars? That's not like
Aunt March to be so generous.

I didn't go to Aunt March.
I couldn't bear to.

- Where'd you get the money?
- I only sold what was my own.

Jo! Your hair!

- Your one beauty.
- You look like a boy.

Well, it doesn't affect the fate
of the nation, so don't wail.

Oh, I'm so proud you're my daughter.

I was crazy to do something for Father.
It'll be good for my vanity anyway.

- That could be nice.
- You never do that.

- This isn't what I wanted for her.
- Oh, Teddy.

Oh, Jo.

My girls, I love you
more than words can say.

Be good to each other.
Pray for Father's recovery.

And I'll be back as soon as I can.

Love you.

Jo.

What is it? Is it Father?

No.

It's my hair.

I would feel the same way.

I know you would.

Laurie, when are you
going back to your grandfather?

Very soon.

- You've said that a dozen times in the past month.
- Short answers save trouble.

Well, he is expecting you,
so why don't you do it?

- Natural depravity, I suppose.
- Natural indolence, you mean.

I'll only plague him if I go, so I might
as well stay and plague you a little longer.

You can bear it.

- In fact, I think it agrees with you.
- Stop it. Stop.

- What are you doing?
- I'm looking at you.

I mean, what do you intend to do?

- With life?
- Yes.

I've been writing an opera.
I would be the central figure.

That's a waste of time.

What would you have me do?

Go work for your grandfather
and make something of yourself.

You're not playing fair.

Here.

That's... That's very good.

When did you do this one?

It was the day at the beach.

First time I met Fred.

That's right.

What's he doing?

He's in London on business.

He'll be back in a few weeks.

Don't marry him.

What?

Don't marry him.

Why?

Why? You know why.

No.

No.

- Yes.
- No. Laurie.

- What?
- You're being mean.

- Stop it. Stop it.
- What? How am I being mean?

I have been second to Jo
my whole life in everything.

And I will not be the person you settle
for just because you cannot have her.

I won't. I won't do it.

I won't. Not when I've spent
my entire life loving you.

I'm making a mold of my foot for Laurie,
to remind him I have nice feet.

Mr. Brooke writes that Father
is still very weak but improving.

Mr. Brooke also says that Mother is
the best nurse a man could ask for.

I wish all the letters were
from Mother and not Mr. Brooke.

I'm grateful for any letters.

I think the deep purple is
very fitting for Mr. Laurence.

- Do you agree, Amy?
- Mm-hm. Quite. The design is very cunning.

I had to thank him somehow for allowing me
to play the piano at his house all the time.

I'm going into town for groceries.
Jo, can you look into getting more firewood?

You all haven't been
to the Hummels. We should go.

Bethy, we barely have enough to feed ourselves.
Besides, I have to finish this story.

- Marmee said...
- Marmee told us to do lots of things,

but we can't possibly do them all.

I always go by myself. And you haven't
kept up with your tasks.

- We do. We work.
- Don't worry. We'll find a time.

But it's been weeks.

- We'll go soon.
- My foot is stuck! I can't get it out!

Stop it, Jo! I can't get it out!
I'm going to lose my foot. Ow.

Fine. I'll go myself.

Hello. For Mr. Laurence.

Shh. Here she comes.

Beth, look what they got you!

- Here's a letter from the old gentleman.
- Open the note.

Oh, Beth, just look.

Jo, read the letter. I cannot.

"Miss Beth March, I have had
many pairs of slippers in my life,

but I never had any
that suited me so well as yours.

And they will always remind me
of the gentle giver.

I like to pay my debts
and hope you will accept this gift.

Your grateful friend
and humble servant, James Laurence."

- Oh, Beth!
- So sweet. "Your humble servant."

- Isn't it beautiful?
- Look how shiny it is!

- Yes.
- It has gold that goes all the way around the back.

- His handwriting is beautiful.
- It's got a little drawer here.

Sir, I wanted to thank you for...

You remind me...

so much of my little girl.

The piano is yours.

- I should have given it to you long ago.
- Thank you.

My child...

you're burning.

The Hummels are very sick.

She's resting.

- How is she? Is there anything I can do?
- What is it?

- Scarlet fever.
- What's scarlet fever?

I visited the Hummels.
The baby has died.

Have you all had it before?

- Meg and I have, but Amy hasn't.
- Then she'll have to be sent away.

I don't want to be sent away.

- See if Aunt March can take her.
- I don't like Aunt March.

- It's for your own good, child.
- Should we send for Mother?

- No, we shouldn't worry her.
- I've never wished for money more than now.

Listen, we'll nurse her
and she'll get better.

She will.

"The post office in the forest was
a capital little institution

and flourished wonderfully,
for many things passed through it.

Poetry and pickles,
music and gingerbread,

invitations, scoldings,
and even puppies."

- It's all about us.
- It is.

- I love it.
- It's just a little story.

- Nothing like what you usually write.
- You think it's too boring?

- No, it's my favorite one yet.
- Really?

- Write me another.
- Yes, ma'am.

- Keep writing them.
- I will.

Even when I'm not here.

- Don't say that. Don't say it.
- Jo, I have to tell you.

No, you don't.

I've had a very long time
to think about this, and...

- And I'm not afraid.
- No.

Nope.

It's like the tide going out.
It goes out slowly, but it can't be stopped.

I'll stop it.

I stopped it before.

You will get better,
Father will get better,

and we'll all be together soon,
all right?

We...

- We can't stop God's will.
- Well, God hasn't met my will yet.

What Jo wills shall be done.

Amy.

Come here.

Yes?

Come, sit.

If you are very good, one day,
this ring will belong to you.

- Really?
- If you keep being a proper young lady,

just see if it doesn't.

You are your family's hope now.

Beth is sick, Jo is a lost cause,

and I hear Meg has had her head turned
by a penniless tutor, so...

it'll be up to you to support them all.

And your indigent parents
in their old age.

So you must marry well.

Hmm?

Save your family.

All right, that's, uh...
That's all I wanted to say to you.

So you can go back
and do your little painting.

- Hello, Aunt March.
- Oh.

That Laurence boy was just here.

He was?

What a disappointment
he's turned out to be.

Must be the Italian in him.

Uh, when will he be back?

Hmm.

He's gone.

To London.

Why?

What do you need to discuss
with him?

I... I just told Fred Vaughn
I wouldn't marry him.

Meg.

I'll come home to help
with the children. Sorry.

- I just... I'm so worried for Beth.
- Stay.

- I asked for leave. I will take care of the children.
- Oh, John.

There's one other thing.

You should send your fabric
to the dressmaker as soon as possible.

- I can't.
- I don't want to hear another word.

I want you to have that dress.

My old coat will be fine
for the winter.

- John, I...
- It's all settled.

John, I really can't.

I sold the fabric to Sallie.

You did?

I don't want you to be unhappy.

I couldn't be.

John Brooke is my husband.

And I am his wife.

Hannah! It's all right.
It's all right.

What do we do?

We should send for your mother.

- Marmee!
- Bless you.

She's worse. I didn't know
what else to do.

- Jo, how is she?
- My girls.

My sweet Beth.

Hannah, make a clear broth.
Jo, get ice. We need to cool you.

Who's with Father?

John stayed with him.

We need to change the linens.

We're going to move you,
sweet girl.

- Oh, look at her.
- That's it.

Hold on. It's okay.

I know.

Please fight.

Don't go quietly.

Fight.

Please, please, just fight
to the end and be loud,

and don't just quietly go away, Beth.

Marmee?

Marmee?

Marmee?

Jo.

Merry Christmas, Beth.

Popcorn. Make sure that it's
in the middle.

- I know.
- You're doing the sides first,

and they aren't spaced for my popcorn
because I'm making a popcorn garland.

And you're wasting decorations,
and they're not dangling right.

The sides are the most important thing.
If you don't have the sides...

Here's another Christmas gift
for the March family.

- Oh, my God! Father!
- Father!

Father!

My little women.

How you've grown.

Oh, Beth.

Merry Christmas, my dear.

- Merry Christmas to each of you.
- Merry Christmas, Father.

Merry Christmas.

Oh, thank God.

- Thank God you're home.
- Thank God for you.

Now I can be angry with you
in person.

I can't believe today
is my wedding day.

Mm.

What's wrong?

Nothing.

Jo.

We can leave.
We can leave right now.

I can make money. I'll sell stories.

I'll do anything. I'll cook. I'll clean.
I'll work in a factory. I can make a life for us.

- Jo...
- And you should be an actress,

and you should have
a life on the stage.

Let's just run away together.

- I want to get married.
- Oh, why?

Because I love him.

You will be bored of him
in two years,

and we'll be interesting forever.

Just because my dreams are different than yours
doesn't mean they're unimportant.

I want a home.

And a family. And I'm willing
to work and struggle.

But I want to do it with John.

I just hate that you're leaving me.

Don't leave.

Oh, Jo.

I'm not leaving you.

And besides...

one day, it will be your turn.

I'd rather be a free spinster
and paddle my own canoe.

I would.

Can't believe childhood is over.

It was going to end one way
or another.

And what a happy end.

What excessive promises...

giving yourself away
to get the other.

What a gift.

Always given before is known
the cost or the reward.

I pronounce you man and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

Oh, don't have to make a fuss.

You don't need to see me
to the carriage.

Oh, I'm happy to.

I hope you will be happy now...

that you've ruined your life the same way
your mother did by marrying your father.

My dear sister,
you're too kind.

- And thank you for today's festivities.
- You're most welcome.

Thank you, Aunt March.

Oh, I don't like to be kissed.

Oh, I'm sorry.

You will be sorry when you've tried love
in a cottage and found it a failure.

It can't be worse than
some people find in big houses.

Oh, I quite understand your meaning,
missus.

I don't miss a thing.

We know this.

And you're not entirely wrong.

I may not always be right,
but I'm never wrong.

Ohh. And here is the only sane member
of the family.

I really can't take
any more of this.

- I know.
- You can imagine.

Marmee! Marmee!
Marmee, Marmee, Marmee!

- What?
- Aunt March is going to Europe.

Oh, and she wants me
to go with her!

That's wonderful!

Now I know why I spent
all those boring hours reading to her.

No, no, she wants me to go.

As her companion.

Europe, with you?

Yes, she wants me to work on my art
and my French, of course.

You don't really like
French though, do you?

That's wonderful, Amy.

Father! I'm going to Europe!

Meg married.

Amy off to Europe.

And now that you're a graduate,
you'll be off on a long holiday.

I'm just not good like Beth,
so I'm angry and restless.

You don't have to stay here, Jo.

Why? Should we run off
and join a pirate ship?

- No. No.
- It's no use, Jo.

- Don't.
- We got to have it out.

- No.
- I have loved you

ever since I've known you, Jo.
I couldn't help it.

- I tried to show and you wouldn't let me.
- No.

But I must make you hear now and give me
an answer because I cannot go on like this!

- Please don't.
- I gave up billiards.

I gave up everything you didn't like.
I'm happy I did.

It's fine, and I waited,
and I never complained because I...

You know, I figured
you'd love me, Jo.

And I realize I'm not
half good enough

- and I'm not this great man...
- No! Yes, you are.

You're a great deal
too good for me.

And I'm so grateful to you,
and I'm so proud of you, and I just...

I don't see why I can't love you
as you want me to.

I don't know why.

You can't?

No. I can't.

I can't change how I feel, and...

it would be a lie to say
I do when I don't.

I'm so sorry, Teddy.

I'm so sorry,
but I just can't help it.

I can't love anyone else, Jo.
I only love you.

It would be a disaster
if we married.

- It wouldn't be.
- We'd be miserable.

- Jo, I'd be a perfect saint.
- I can't! I can't!

- I've tried it and I failed. I can't.
- Why does everyone expect it, then?

Why does your family and my grandpa expect it?
Why are you saying this? Say yes.

- Let's be happy together, Jo!
- I can't say yes truly, so I'm not going to say it at all.

You'll see that I'm right eventually,

and you'll thank me for it.

I'd rather hang myself
than realize this, Jo.

- Teddy.
- I would rather be dead.

Teddy, don't say that.

Teddy.

Listen, you'll find some lovely,
accomplished girl

who will love you
and adore you,

and she's gonna make a fine mistress
for your fine house, but I wouldn't.

- Yes, you would, Jo.
- Look at me.

- I'm homely, and I'm awkward, and I'm odd.
- I love you, Jo.

- And you'd be ashamed of me.
- I love you, Jo.

And we would quarrel
because we can't help it even now.

I'd hate elegant society, you'd hate
my scribbling, and we would be unhappy.

And we'd wish we hadn't done it,
and everything will be horrid.

Is there anything more?

- No, nothing more.
- All right.

Except that...

Teddy, I don't believe
I will ever marry.

I'm happy as I am,

and I love my liberty too well
to be in any hurry to give it up.

- I think you're wrong, Jo.
- No.

I think you will marry.
I think you'll find someone and love them.

And you will live and die for them
because that's your way, and you will.

And I'll watch.

I don't want to disturb your writing.

I don't do that anymore.

It didn't save her.

You're much too lonely here, Jo.

Wouldn't you like to go back to New York?
What about your friend Friedrich?

- Wasn't that his name?
- No.

I ruined our friendship with my temper,
just as I ruin everything.

I'm sure I'll never see him again.

I doubt that a sincere friend
would be deterred.

I wish that were true.

If I was a girl in a book,
this would all be so easy.

Just give up the world happily.

Laurie's returning, you know.

- Oh, he is?
- Mm.

There was a letter from Amy.
She's coming home.

She's devastated about Beth.

Aunt March is very ill,
so Laurie will accompany them.

- That's good of him.
- Mm.

- What is it?
- I don't know.

I've always been quite content
with my family.

Don't understand it.

Perhaps...

Perhaps I...

was too quick in turning him down.

Laurie.

Do you love him?

If he asked me again,
I think I would say yes.

Do you think he'll ask me again?

But do you love him?

I care more to be loved.

I want to be loved.

That is not the same as loving.

I know.

You know, I just...
I just feel...

I just feel like...

women, they...

They have minds and they have souls,
as well as just hearts.

And they've got ambition and they've got talent,
as well as just beauty.

And I'm so sick of people saying
that love is just all a woman is fit for.

I'm so sick of it.

But I'm... I'm so lonely.

Couldn't let you travel alone
with Aunt March being so sick.

Even if you despise me.

I don't despise you, Laurie.

Beth was the best of us.

I'm not marrying Fred.

I heard about that.

And you are under no obligation
to say anything or do anything.

I just didn't love him as I should.

So we don't need to talk about it.
We don't need to say anything.

My dear Teddy,

I miss you more than
I can express.

I used to think that
the worst fate was to be a wife.

I was young and stupid.

But now I have changed.

The worst fate is to live
my life without you in it.

I was wrong to turn you down
and run away to New York.

Oysters!

Lobsters!

Jo.

Jo. Jo.

Jo.

Wake up.

Wake up.

- Teddy! Oh, you're back.
- Are you glad to see me, then?

Yes.

Oh, I was worried.

Oh. Here, come sit.

How's Amy? Did she bother you all the way
from Europe with her preening?

Yes, but I like that.

Where is she?
Did she not come home?

Your mother has her down at Meg's.
We stopped on the way.

There was no getting my wife
out of their clutches.

Your what?

I've done it now.
It was meant to be a surprise.

We were engaged
and we were hoping to wait,

but that is to say that
now we are man and wife.

You and Amy?

Yes.

Are you in love?

Yes.

Jo, I want to say one thing
and then we'll put it away forever.

I've always loved you.

But the love I feel for Amy,
it's different.

And I think...

you were right about this.
I think we would've killed each other.

Yes.

I think it was meant this way.

Oh, Teddy.

You're the only one that
ever calls me that, Jo.

"Teddy."

What does Amy call you?

"My lord."

That sounds like her.

Well, you look deserving of it.

Could we still be friends,
Jo, please?

Of course, my boy.
Always.

She's a painter.

Are you excited?

Laurie told you?

Yes, yes.

Amy, I'm so happy for you.

This... This was meant to be.

Oh, I'm so relieved.
Thank you.

I wanted to write, Jo.
I wanted to write.

And I wanted to explain,
but everything was happening so fast

and I was worried you'd be angry at me.

- No. No.
- No, you're not angry at me?

Life is too short to be angry
at one's sisters.

I really miss her.

I know.

Thank you.

Mr. Laurence.

Jo.

Oh, Jo.

I couldn't bring myself to...

The house doesn't seem right
without her, and...

Couldn't go in,
knowing she wouldn't be there.

I know I'm not half
so good as my sister,

but you know I'll be a friend
to lean on, if you'll let me.

All right.

Dear Mr. Dashwood,

enclosed are the first few chapters
of a piece I've only begun working on.

It could suit as a story for young people,
but I think it is probably quite boring.

However, I'm sending it to you just in case
it has something of value, though I doubt it.

Jo March.

I thought she hated me.

She could still hate you
and leave you the house.

What about you and John?

We can't manage a grand house
like this. It's too big.

I should sell it, but I'd love to do something
that would really make Aunt March turn in her grave.

- I wouldn't mind that.
- A nice turning.

Just a rotation,
nothing terrible.

What will you do?

I'd like to open a school.

We never had a proper school,
and now there are women's colleges opening.

There should be a school. For Daisy.

- And what will Demi do?
- I'll open a school for boys and girls both.

What about writing?

- What about it?
- What are you working on?

I started something,
but I don't think it's very good.

- Everyone likes what you write.
- No, they don't.

I do.

Well, it's just
about our little life.

So?

Well, who will be
interested in a story

of domestic struggles
and joys?

It doesn't have any
real importance.

Maybe it doesn't seem important
because people don't write about them.

No, writing doesn't confer importance.
It reflects it.

I don't think so.

Writing them will make them
more important.

When did you become so wise?

I always have been. You were just
too busy noticing my faults.

Which were never there,
of course.

Dear Miss March,

I read the chapters you sent and I have
to agree, they aren't very promising.

But, please, send more stories
of the scandalous variety, if you have any.

Or, shall I say, your friend can.

My apologies for the joke.

I couldn't help it.

Jo, come down!

Coming!

I'm starving.

- Jo, you might wanna wait because...
- I'm famished.

But, Jo, dear, you have a guest.

I don't know anyone.

I'm sorry to intrude, but...

It's you.

Oh, uh... Heh.

Hello.

Hello. I'm Josephine March.

- I'm Jo.
- Josephine, is that you?

Welcome! Welcome.
This is Kitty and Minnie.

And I see that you have already met our professor.
And he's a very accomplished man.

And your mother says
that you are a writer.

I keep a diary,
you know.

We have a lot of interesting people here,
intellectuals and Europeans...

Jo, I hope it is all right.
I got your address from Ms. Kirke.

Who's this?
Who are you?

I'm so sorry to intrude.
I was close by, and I thought I'd...

- But I'll be going.
- No, no.

Please stay.
We have more than enough room.

Can someone tell me
who this man is?

I don't want to be a burden.

Oh, you're not a burden at all.

- Yes, of course. Please.
- I'm Laurie.

- Who are you?
- I'm Friedrich Bhaer.

We were at the same boardinghouse
together in New York.

Oh, Jo, he's very handsome.

Do you intend to stay
in New York?

No. I've been offered
a professorship in California.

And, as I have nothing
keeping me here,

I thought I might go west.

It is new there, and they are
less particular about immigrants.

Perhaps I should go west.

You're not an immigrant,
so perhaps you should stay home.

I'm going!

Jo!

- Joseph, not Josephine.
- I know Joseph.

Pretty well, actually.

This is a beautiful instrument.

Which one of you plays?

Oh, it was my sister Beth.

We all play a little, but...

But none so well as her.

It is very hard to lose
a sister.

I'm sorry.

- Do you play?
- Yes. I do.

It would make us so happy
if you'd play now.

She wouldn't want the piano
to sit silent.

I don't wish to offend.

Not in the least.

- It was so lovely to meet you.
- Lovely to meet you. Goodbye.

It was a real pleasure, Mr. Bhaer.

- Bye, Laurie.
- Goodbye.

- Thank you for everything.
- Lovely to have you.

If you ever come to California,
I would love to see you.

I don't know that I will,
but thank you.

Well, goodbye.

Goodbye.

What?

Why are you all looking
at me like that?

What a wonderful man.
I hope he comes back.

He would make a terrific friend
for me.

- Oh, Father, he wasn't here for you!
- No?

- Jo, you love him.
- What?!

- No, no, I don't.
- Yes, you do!

I am half as smart as you, but I can see
it so plainly. You love him.

- Doesn't she love him?
- Good instinct. You love him.

I have never seen you
so happy. What else is love?

You need to go after him. Laurie,
prepare the horses. We can catch him.

- I'm coming too.
- No, I'm not going.

- Yes, you are. Amy is right.
- Exactly!

Never thought I'd prepare a carriage
to help Jo March chase a man, but I like it.

- He's moving to California.
- That was fiction!

- He was practically begging for a reason to stay.
- But it's raining outside.

That doesn't matter.
Can you come with me?

- I need to fix you.
- Jo.

Laurie, will you stop standing there
and go get the horses ready? Thank you.

You never ask about my mother,
even when you know I've seen her.

I assume she's still alive.

But I ask after your mother.

And I have no idea why.

- You're willfully missing the point.
- That's true.

- What is that...? What do they want?
- I have no idea.

- Father, are you publishing this?
- What happened to the "little women"?

Tell me you have
the rest of this book.

What?

I'm just trying to fix this hair.

Ah! Stop, stop, stop.
Stop the carriage.

- Wait, stop!
- Stop the carriage!

- Stop. All right, Go. Out. Out.
- Go. Go, go, go.

- Go!
- Jo, your hair!

Kiss him with love!

Frankly, I don't see
why she didn't marry the neighbor.

Well, because the neighbor marries
her sister.

Right, right.
Of course.

- So who does she marry?
- No one.

She doesn't marry either of them.

No.

No! No, no,
that won't work at all.

She says the whole book that
she doesn't want to marry.

Who cares?

- Girls want to see women married, not consistent.
- No, it isn't the right ending.

The right ending is
the one that sells.

Trust me.

If you decide to end your delightful book
with your heroine a spinster,

no one will buy it.

It won't be worth printing.

I suppose marriage has always been
an economic proposition, even in fiction.

It's romance.

- It's mercenary.
- Just end it that way, will you?

Fine.

- Go!
- Jo, your hair!

- Kiss him with love!
- Go!

- You look so beautiful!
- Go, Jo!

Jo!

I... I don't want you to leave.
I want you to stay.

- You do?
- Yes.

I would never leave
if you wish me to stay.

- No, I want you to stay.
- I have nothing to give you, Jo.

It doesn't matter.

My hands are empty.

They're not empty.

I love it.

It's romantic.

It's very moving.

That's very emotional.

- Well, thank you.
- We could call the chapter...

"Under the Umbrella."

- That's good.
- Perfect.

- Now, there's the question of the contract.
- Mm-hm.

I'm prepared to give you
5 percent of the royalties.

So I get 5 percent
of the profit.

Five percent of the net profits,
after I recoup.

Huh. Well, what about
a payment up front?

I'm the one taking the risk
in printing this book.

Yes, but it's my book.

And if it does well, we'll both make money.

If not, I can stay in business.

Oh, so I get nothing
if it fails.

No, I'll give you $500 right now
to buy out the copyright.

The copyright?

That's the right for reprinting,
that sort of thing.

Sequels, characters for other stories.

- Mm. Might that be worth something?
- Well, only if it's a success.

I see. It seems like something
I would want to own, no?

Didn't you say your family needed
the money more immediately?

Yes, they do, which is
why I wanted up-front payment.

No. It's too risky.
I'll only pay for the copyright.

You keep your $500,
and I'll keep the copyright.

Also, I want 10 percent
of royalties.

Five point five percent.
That's very generous.

- Nine percent.
- Six percent, and that's it.

Mr. Dashwood, if I'm going to sell my heroine
into marriage for money, I might as well get some of it.

Six point six percent.

Done.

And you don't need to decide
about the copyright right now.

No, I've decided.

I want to own my own book.

- Where is she?
- She's here, everyone!

Come on!

Now, see if you can make a B.