All language subtitles for David.Copperfield.1965

David Copperfield.
- Rosa Dartle.

- Mrs Steerforth and I forbade you.

- Is Mrs Steerforth at home?

- Mrs Steerforth will refuse to see you,
you know, until she finds her son James.

Are you saying—

Has something happened to James Steerforth?

Speak, David Copperfield!
Have you heard from James?

You—

Have you found him?

Brought him back?

In there?

Dead—

He's dead!

This is you! Your fault!

You only ever came here to bring misfortune.

It was you who took him away from us.

It's because of you that he left to travel the world.

Admit it!

You look happy today to bring him back to us dead.

- I was his friend, Miss Dartle.

No one could love him as I did.

He was more than my friend, he was my childhood.

That is the corpse of my
childhood being taken away.

But when I think that he betrayed this childhood,

yes, it's true, I'm glad he's dead.

You can't understand.

For you to understand,

I would have to tell you everything.
From the beginning.

From the dreams of my childhood.

Let me tell you the whole story of David Copperfield.

Since the day he was born.

I was born in Blunderstone,

in Suffolk,

in a house called The Rookery.

The Friday I was born,

when I was about to open my eyes to the light,

It had been six months since another David
Copperfield, my father, had left this world.

Mrs David Copperfield I presume?
- I am she, Ma'am.

- Miss! I am the aunt of
the late David, your husband.

Miss Betsey Trotwood, of Dover.

You've heard of her, I dare say?

- In fact, my husband—
- Well. Now you see her!

- Excuse me.

- Show yourself!

Just as I thought.
- You thought?

- A baby, a very baby!

David Copperfield will never make another.

- He's dead, Miss.
- Exactly! Don't cry!

How could he leave a baby like you.

About to become a mother.

At any minute now.
- Any minute!

- He thought—
- He thought too much, if you must know.

And first of all, why The Rookery?

- The name was Mr Copperfield's choice.

- I have no doubt of it. But where are they?
- What?

- The rooks!

- In truth, we have never seen any.

But we thought—at least Mr Copperfield thought,

seeing all these nests in the branches—

but the nests had undoubtedly been long abandoned.

- David Copperfield all over.

Because he sees the nests
he thinks there must be rooks.

Imagination.

- My husband is dead, Miss, I will not permit—

- Anyway, what's wrong with you?

- I think I'm going to faint.

- Don't cry, and don't faint either!

Sit down! There!

Pure imagination!
Imagination and childishness.

What do you call your girl?
- I don't know that it will be a girl.

- I don't mean that girl.
I mean your servant girl!

You do have one?
- Peggotty.

Peggotty?

You mean to tell me that any human being has ever
been baptized with the barbaric name of Peggotty?

- It's her surname.
Her name is Clara, the same as me.

So we got into the habit—
That is to say, the idea was—

- The late David Copperfield's, naturally.

Peggotty!

Peggotty!
Since Peggotty it is.

Peggotty!

Tea. Your mistress is a little unwell.

And don't dawdle!
- Yes Madam, right away.

- There.

Gracious me.

A girl. I feel sure it will be a girl.

I am quite certain of it!

- My husband, David Copperfield, thought—
- That it would be a boy, naturally.

A preposterous idea.

Like seeing rooks where none had been before.

Like calling someone Peggotty.

And asking a baby like you for a child.

Only one man would delight in error to this extent.

An excellent reason in any case
to be certain that it will be a girl.

- But surely—

- From the moment of this girl's birth,
I intend to be her friend.

I intend to be her godmother.
You will call her Betsey Trotwood Copperfield,

I intend to watch over her.

There must be no mistakes
in life with this Betsey Trotwood.

There must be no trifling
with her affections, poor dear.

What is it? What's the matter now?

My God, my God, Peggotty!
Leave your tea there and help me.

Your mistress
- Madam! Madam!

She's in a faint! My God!

I think I can—
- Don't think, above all don't think, and do.

- I have my nephew Ham, who's come to help me.

Ham! Ham!
Come quickly my boy, hurry up, hurry up.

Here, help me.

Gently, gently.

And let me know immediately it's all over.

I'll be waiting.

Some local irritation, Ma'am?

- What? What did you say?

- I said, a little local irritation, Ma'am?
- Nonsense!

You, I presume, are the doctor?
What is the situation?

- Well, Ma'am, I am happy to congratulate you.

All is now over, Ma’am, and well over.

- How is she?
- As well as possible, Ma'am.

As well as we can expect a young mother
to be under these melancholy circumstances.

Do you wish to see her?
- And she! How is she?

- She?
- The baby!

My goddaughter! How is she?

- The baby—it's a boy, Ma'am.

Ma'am! Ma'am! You dropped your fan!

My Aunt Betsey vanished like a discontented fairy

and never came back any more.

When I look far behind me,

into the night of my early childhood,

the first memories that emerge from the fog,

are of my mother dancing
with me in the living room

♪ In the attic ♪

♪ It’s windy outside ♪

♪ It's raining outside ♪

♪ Your wings are creaking ♪

♪ With delight ♪

♪ Be my nurse ♪

♪ You see, I'm sleeping ♪

♪ Do your knitting ♪

♪ Wind your ball of wool, ♪

♪ Sing a little tune, ♪

♪ Very soft, very strong ♪

Oh my God, seven o'clock already

- Are you in a hurry, Mrs Copperfield?

- I have an invitation to dinner.

At Mrs Grayper's.
- Always Mrs Grayper.

- Yes.

I must, however, be a very sad guest.
I really don't understand what they see in me.

Do you know what they call me?
- Who?

- Mrs Grayper's friends.

The pretty little widow.

That's what they call me.
They're so silly.

Aren't they, dear David?
Aren't they ridiculous?

- Ridiculous?

- Well, I have to get ready.

I'm going to be late,
someone is coming to pick me up.

- Well someone will have to wait.

- Peggotty, you're too mean.
What would you have me do?

Disfigure myself?
Pour boiling water on my face?

I'm sure you'd enjoy that.

- You shouldn't talk such
nonsense, Mrs Copperfield.

- I think you'll drive me mad, Peggotty.

Was ever any poor girl so
ill-used by her servants as I am!

I don't know why I'm calling myself a girl.

You're making me lose my mind.

Really, one would think I've never been married.

- God knows you have, Madam.

Peggotty.

Yes, my dear?

- Were you ever married?
- Me? Good Lord!

What’s put marriage in your head!?

- You are a very handsome
woman, ain’t you, Peggotty?

- Me, handsome? Not me, my dear.

- You mustn’t marry more than
one person at a time, may you?

- No, definitely not.

- But what if you marry a person and the person dies?

- Well—

- Well?

Then you may marry someone
else, mayn't you, Peggotty?

You may—

If you choose.

That's a matter of opinion.

- But what is your opinion, Peggotty?

- My opinion is—

that I never was married myself,

and that I don't expect to be.

Now let me hear some more about the Crorkindills

- Crocodiles, Peggotty!

Crocodiles lay their eggs in the sand.

- Peggotty, help me find my fan.

I can't lay my hands on it.

- Here, take your Aunt Betsey's.
- Oh, Heaven forbid.

That sorry individual.

I would feel like she's blaming me all night.

- I'm sure, that's not Mrs Grayper's style.

Ma'am.

- Well Peggotty, go and open the door.
What are you waiting for?

Davy my dear, say hello to Mr Murdstone.

Show that you're a well-behaved boy.

- Good evening, young man. Shall we be friends?

- That's the wrong hand, Davy.

I think we're late.
- Shall we go?

Goodbye, Davy.
Be a good boy.

Crocodiles lay their eggs in the sand.

- Master Davy.

How would you like to come along with me
to soend a few days at my brother's in Yarmouth?

What do you say to that?
- Is your brother an agreeable man?

- Oh what an agreeable man he is!
Indeed he's the nicest of men.

Then there’s the sea; and the boats
and ships; and the fishermen; and the beach.

And Ham, my nephew, to play with.

And little Emily.

- But what about Mother?
- Your mother?

Why then I’ll as good as
bet a guinea that she'll let us go.

I’ll ask her, if you like,
as soon as ever she comes home.

- But what’s she to do while we’re away?

She can't live by herself.

- Don't you know?

She's going to go and stay
for a fortnight with Mrs Grayper.

Early one morning, a few days later,

the carrier Barkis came to
pick us up and take us to Yarmouth.

It touches me even now—

to recollect how eager I was to leave my happy home;

to think how little I suspected
what I did leave for ever.

- David!

The sea!

The sea! Peggotty, it's the sea!

- Here's my Ham, growed out of knowledge!

This is Master Davy and Mr Barkis.

- Good morning.

Do you see our house, Mr Davy?
- That?

It looks like a boat.
- Yes, that's it, Master Davy.

Come on! Forward!

Mr Peggotty.

- Yes Master?

I know why you named your son Ham.

It's because your house is like Noah's ark.

- I beg your pardon, Master,
I didn't give him any name.

- Who gave him that name, then?

- It was his father gave it him.

And you are not his father?
- No.

His father was my brother Jo.

- Dead, Mr Peggotty?

- Drowned.

- And little Emily?

She is your daughter, isn’t she, Mr Peggotty?

- No, Sir. My brother in law, Tom, was her father.

- Dead, Mr Peggotty?

- Drowned.

- He it was who took them both in,
because he has a good heart.

- Will you keep quiet about your good heart.

If I ever again hear mention of
my good heart and the like, I swear—

- So you have no children, Mr Peggotty?

- No, little Master, I have no children.

I am a bachelor.

- Why then, Mr Peggotty—

- Well?

- Who is that?

- That's Mrs Gummidge.

- Gummidge, Mr Peggotty?

- A lone lorn creature all alone
in the world. That is what I am.

I go contrary with everybody.

- Now now, don't let yourself go like that.

Shake yourself out of it.
- It is exactly as I say.

None of you feels as contrary as I.

And the more I feel contrary
the more contrary I am with everybody.

I only know how to make everyone uncomfortable.

Master Davy particularly.

- No you don't, Mrs Gummidge.

- I know well what I should do.

I should go to the workhouse
and die, and be a riddance.

And that's what I'm going to do.

No later than tomorrow morning.

- She's been thinking of the old 'un.
- The old 'un?

That was her husband, a friend of my brother.

His partner, a fisherman like him.

Drowned.

Look out!

Do you like the sea?
- Oh yes!

- I can't get to like it very much.

- I understand.

- It's capable of tearing to pieces
a boat as big as the one we live in.

I saw it.

- Was it that boat?
- The one where my father drowned?

No, I've never seen that one.

- Nor him?

- I don't remember.

- So did I.

I too lost my Papa.

He lies under a large white
stone in a pretty churchyard.

- We don't know where my Papa's grave is.

So it's not the same thing.

- Certainly.

- And then you still have your Mama.

- That's true.

- And your Papa was a gentleman.

Mine—
- Yours?

- Mine was a fisherman, like my uncle Dan.

- Dan? Do you mean Mr Peggotty?

- Uncle Dan, yonder.

- He must be a very good person.

- If I was ever to be a lady,

I should give him a sky blue
jacket with diamond buttons,

a red velvet waistcoat,
a cocked hat and a gold watch.

- Would you like to be a Lady?
- Oh yes.

Then my uncle Dan and my cousin
Ham would no longer have to go to sea.

I wouldn't mind if there came stormy weather,

Not for our own sakes, I mean

- And the others?
- The others?

I'd give them a lot of money.

At night, when I wake up,

I think I hear them crying for help.

- You're frightened.

You smell of sea water.

Everything about you smells of the sea.

- Smell.

It smells like lobster.

What are you doing?
Stop!

Come back!

You'll fall.

Come back!

There has been a time since, knowing
what fate had in store for little Emily,

when I have asked myself the question:

Would it have been better to have had
the waters close above her head that morning?

and when I have answered Yes, it would have been.

Certainly.
It would have been better.

And so the fortnight slipped away,

and I found myself once more
in the cart of the carrier Barkis,

eyes filled with the image of little Emily.

And soon, at a bend in the road,

we saw again the elms of The Rookery.

Davy, Davy!

Davy wait for me!

Darling, there's something I have to tell you!

Davy! Davy, my dear!

Wait, wait Master Davy.

I have to tell you something.

- Hasn't she come back?
- Yes, she came back, Master Davy.

She came back—wait!

- Where is Mama?

- Where is Mama ...

Master Davy—
- Not dead too?

- No no, my dearest.
God bless her, she's not dead.

Whatever will you think of?

You see, my dear, I should have told you before now,

but all these days I hadn't an opportunity.

- What is it, Peggotty?

- There's—

There's only—

You know—

You have a Papa.

A new one.
- A new one?

- Come and see him.
- I don't want to see him!

- And your Mama?

Now Clara, my dear, recollect.
Firmness. Always firmness.

How are you, Davy, my boy?

So this is your boy, sister-in-law?

- Oh Davy, bid Miss Murdstone good day.

- Generally speaking, I don't like boys.
How d'ye do, boy?

Ill-mannered!

This is your doing, Peggotty, you cruel thing!

It gives you pleasure, does it not,
to prejudice my own boy against me?

Or against anybody who is dear to me?

- Lord forgive you, Mrs Copperfield,
for saying such things.

- It's enough to distract me, Peggotty!

And in my honeymoon too, when my
worst enemy might relent and try to please me.

Clara, my love, have you forgotten? Firmness.

- Forgive me Edward, but I am so unhappy.

- A fine thing to hear after a week of marriage.

- No, I mean, forgive me.
I mean, it is they who make me unhappy.

How hard it is at this precise moment.

- Go below.

Go below, my dear.

Go and join my sister.

My friend, do you know your mistress's name?

- She has been my mistress
a long time, Sir, I ought to know it.

- That's true.

I thought I heard you address
her by a name that is not hers.

Me?

She has taken mine, you know.
Will you remember that?

Davy, my boy, if I have an obstinate horse
to deal with, what do you think I do?

You don't know?

I tame it.

A few days later, I left
my room as I did each morning.

I tell you, Clara, I have
often been flogged as a child.

- And more than once.
- Certainly, dear Jane.

But do you think it did Edward any good?

- Do you think it did me any harm?
- That's the question.

- Well now, Davy,

let's hear this lesson.

And try to be a little more
attentive than in recent days.

That is my wish for you.
- Yes Sir.

Well, Davy?

- A cheese merchant sells five thousand cheeses,

Double-Gloucester,

paid in cash,

the amount of

four and a half pence—

and—knowing—knowing the—

The cheese merchant—

- Oh Davy, Davy—

- Clara, be firm with the boy.

- Yes my dear.
- And do not always say Oh Davy, Davy.

He knows his lesson or he doesn't.
- He does not know it!

- I am afraid he does not.

- A lesson that he has been repeating for a week.
- No, not quite, dear Jane.

- The truth is that he does
not want to study the lesson.

To upset us.

- Because he is an annoying and surly child.

The worst of all surly children.

- Pardon me, dear Jane, but are you sure?

- Sure of what, dear Clara?

- Forgive me, dear Jane.

Are you sure you understand David correctly?

- I may say that I do not understand this child,.

He is undoubtedly too complex for me.

But my brother, who certainly has
more insight and experience than I,

said just now when we
interrupted him, you and I,

and in a very inappropriate manner—

- I wanted to say, dear Jane,
that perhaps it's not up to you—

- Not up to me, dear Clara?
- Clara is right, Jane Murdstone.

It's not up to you to speak.
Nor to you, dear Clara.

It's up to Davy to tell us his lesson.
He has the floor.

If he has nothing to say then
even less is it up to you two to talk.

This will be settled between men.
- No!

- Thar depends only on him.

Proceed.

So Davy—

make an effort. Try to be less forgetful.

- A—

A merchant from Gloucester—no, no.

A—a Double Gloucester—

From merchant—

No no.

A cheese merchant—
- Clara!

No.

No!

I had remained there prostrate for hours,

when the key suddenly turned in the lock.

Davy?

Can you hear me, Davy?

- Peggotty!

Is that you, Peggotty?

- Be as soft as a mouse, or the Cat’ll hear us.

- How’s Mama? Is she very angry with me?

- No, not very.

- What is going to be done with me, Peggotty?

- School, near London.

- When, Peggotty?

- Tomorrow.

My own little darling,
you must never forget me.

For I'll never forget you.

And I'll take good care of your Mama.

Always.

- Peggotty.
- Yes?

- Will you write to Mr Peggotty and little Emily?

- Yes, my own treasure.

- And tell them I am not so bad.

- Yes, my darling.

- And to Ham,

and to Mrs Gummidge,

and to little Emily.

Especially to little Emily.

- I promise you, my darling.

Cakes?

- Do take one, Mr Barkis.

- It's—did she make 'em?

- Peggotty, do you mean, Mr Barkis?

- Aye, her, Peggotty.

- Her first name?
- Her family name, Mr Barkis!

Clara Peggotty.

- Clara—

Peggotty.

And was it she who made them?

- It's she who does everything
in our house, cooking and baking.

Will you have another?

- No sweethearts, I believe?

- Sweetmeats, did you say, Mr Barkis?

- No, hearts, sweethearts.

- For Peggotty?
- Aye, her.

- Oh no, she never had a sweetheart.

So she does all the baking?

- And the cooking, yes.

- Perhaps you might be writing to her?

- To Peggotty?
- Yes. To her.

- I shall certainly write to her.

- Well. If you was writing to her, perhaps you'd say—

- Say what, Mr Barkis?

- That—tell her that Barkis is willing.
Will you remember?

- Barkis is willing. Is that all the message?

Oh yes. That's all.

Barkis is willing.

Golden Cross Inn

Is that the little gentleman from Blunderstone?

- Yes Ma'am.

- What name?
- Copperfield.

- That won't do.
Nobody’s dinner is paid for here, in that name.

- Is it Murdstone, ma'am?
- Murdstone?

Oh yes, yes, it's Murdstone.

- If you’re Master Murdstone, why did
you go and give another name first?

- Well—it's because my mother—

- William!

Dinner for this gentleman has been paid.
- Oh yes?

If you would please follow me.

Over there.

Here you are..

There's half a pint of ale for you.

Will you have it now?
- Yes.

There was a gentleman here yesterday,
a very respectable gentleman.

Oh yes, gaiters, polka dot choker.
A very tall gentleman.

Maybe you know him?
- I don't think so.

- Very well. He came in here,
ordered a glass of this ale.

He would order it, I couldn't stop him.

He drank it—

fell dead on the floor.

It was too old for him, it oughtn't to be drawn.

Do you want to have one anyway?

- I think perhaps I had better drink some water.
- Oh yes, of course, yes.

The problem is the boss, you see.

He doesn't like things being
ordered and left, it offends him.

I'll drink it if you like. I'm used to it.

Throw my head back and take it off quick.

Yes?

Do you like chops?
- They look really good.

Although ...

- Why, a chop’s the very thing!

To take off the bad effects
of that beer when it's too old.

Isn't it lucky?.

May I?

Do you go to school?
- Yes.

- In London?
- Near London.

You know it?
- I knew a little boy who went—

to that school.

They broke his ribs.

Two ribs.

He was a little boy like you.
He was your age.

- Really? How did it happen?

- Whipping.

Do you want some pudding?

What's for pudding?
- Just pudding.

Pudding.
- Raisin pudding!

- That's my favourite pudding. Come on!

See who gets the most.
Ready? One, two, three.

It's always a little hard there.

- Sir! You're wanted at the reception desk.

- Master Copperfield?
- Yes Sir.

Mr Mell, supervisor at Salem House.

I'm responsible for bringing you there.
- Very well Sir.

SALEM HOUSE

Good day to you, Mr Mell.
- The new boy.

- I have something for him,
Mr Mell, and for you too.

- For me?

- A boot.

The cobbler says he can't mend it any more.

It's no longer a boot, it's just
holes with a little leather around them.

- Fine, fine.

And for the new boy, this, on behalf of the Principal.
Take care, he bites.

- For me?

- And try to make it visible
when you walk or I'll report you.

- Come on, Copperfield.

Mr Mell?
- Yes?

- Where are the pupils?
- On holiday.

They return in eight days.

Mr Creakle, the Principal, too.

I spent eight days with Mr Mell.

Eight days that I wish were years,

in the terror I was at seeing
the end of the holidays coming,

and the return of the other boys.

I could not read the name of
any of them on a table, or on the wall,

without asking myself what
he would say when he noticed my sign.

And especially one called James Steerforth,

whose name, deeply engraved at a great height,

announced a formidable size and authority.

So this is the young gentleman
whose teeth are to be filed.

What's the report on this boy, Tungay?
- Nothing against him yet, Mr Principal.

- Come closer.
Come closer, young man.

I'm a friend of your stepfather.

That means I know you.

And you, do you know me?

- Not yet, Sir.

- That will come quickly.
- That will come quickly.

I am a Cossack, Mr Copperfield.
A Cossack!

In the meantime, show me the sign.

Come on, show me better than that, I can't see it!

- Do you want to see it, Principal?

Have you seen it?

- Always facetious, James Steerforth.

- Always, Principal.

- My dear Steerforth, if you weren't the
greatest, and the best student at Salem House,

one might believe—

you have to know how to joke around from time to time.
Isn't it true, Tungay?

Especially on the first day of school.

How is your mother, Mr Steerforth?

- I am grateful to you, Principal.

- Send her my respects when you write to her.

- I shall not neglect to do so.

Nor to tell her about
the new fashion at Salem House.

Signs on our backs.

- Most amusing.

- Do you know what I suggest for my own sign?

- No, what?

- Beware, he is rich.

- That's enough! The joke is over!

- The joke is over!
- Get in line, quickly!

Mr Traddles will get ten strokes of the cane
if he continues to snigger in the line.

In twos!

Forward!
March!

I'll watch over you, young Copperfield.
- That's very nice of you, Sir.

- Do you have a sister, young Copperfield?
- No.

- That's a pity.

Why a pity?

- I should think she would have
been a timid, pretty sort of girl.

I should have liked to know her.

Good night, young Copperfield.

- Good night Sir.

And he fell asleep as I had
to see him fall asleep every night,

his large arm folded under his head.

I'm not making fun of you, Mr Mell.

It's not my fault if he looks like you.

Silence! Is this going to end soon?

Silence!
Are you all mad?

Silence, Mr Steerforth.

- Silence yourself.

- Sit down, Mr Steerforth.

- Sit down yourself.

And mind your own business.

- Silence!

You are wrong, Mr Steerforth,

and you're mistaken—

if you think I don't know the detestable influence
you exercise on some of your comrades, and how you—

push them to insult me in every way.

- Me?

It is you who presume to believe I think of you.

I have better things to do, thank God.

And more interesting.

- Be careful, Steerforth.

You're wrong to abuse your position.

Abuse of what?

Of your position as favourite.
- Favourite?

Favourite. I say it judiciously.

Of your position of favourite to insult a gentleman.

- A what?

Where is he?

I don't see any here.
- You go too far, Steerforth!

- Silence, Mr Traddles.

You are old enough and wise enough
to understand what I mean, Steerfoth.

To insult someone who is not happy in life,

someone who has never given you the least offence,

is to commit a mean and base action.

You can sit down or stand up—as you please.

Go on, Copperfield.

One moment, Copperfield, if I may.

Just one word, Sir.

I am not in the habit of concerning
myself with a beggar such as you.

- Steerforth!
- You were always a beggar, this is not recent.

What's new is that you're an impudent beggar.

- Sir—

- Be seated!

What is going on here?
- What is going on here?

- Well, Mr Mell, I repeat my question:
what is going on here?

Traddles, five strokes of
the cane if that will calm you down!

- Five!

- Well, since Mr Mell does not deign to explain to me,

Steerforth, what is going on?
- Nothing.

Almost nothing, Principal.

Mr Mell is using words,

the meaning of which he must not know, I imagine.

Words? What do you mean by that, Steerforth?

Words, what words?

The word favourite.

- Favourite?
- Favourite?

Who has uttered that word, favourite?

- This gentleman—favourite.

- What did you mean by that, Mr Mell? Favourite?

- I meant, Principal, simply that no one, no pupil—

had a right to avail himself of his
position of favouritism to degrade me.

- To degrade you? Who?
- Me, Principal.

- You? Ah! Admirable!
- Admirable!

Listen to me, Mr What’s-your-name,

you may have a lot of honour,

but I don't know if you show proper respect!
- Respect!

- Proper respect, when you talk about favourite.

Respect for me, your employer
and the Principal of this school!

- It was not judicious, Sir, I am willing to admit,

I had lost my temper.

- The he said I was mean,
and then he said I was base,

And then I called him a beggar.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have called him a beggar.
But I did.

And I am ready to take the consequences of it.

Silence!

Mr Traddles, ten more strokes of the cane.
- Ten!

- Steerforth, your candour does you honour.
Yes Yes.

But—

A beggar? Good Lord, I must ask
you now what you are thinking,

by calling an employee of Salem House a beggar.

That's not an answer, Steerforth.
Come, I expect more than that from you.

When you say beggar, you should explain.
- Explain!

- Let him deny it.
- How should he deny it?

What do you mean?
That he should deny being a beggar?

Does he beg on the streets?
- I don't know if he begs,

but I know what the cobbler says about his boots.

Holes with very little leather around them.
Isn't that right, Mr Tungay?

- Silence!

If he is not a beggar himself,

his near relation’s one. His mother
lives on charity in an almshouse.

- Mr Mell.

Did you hear, Mr Mell?

These are serious matters.

Have the goodness, if you please,
to set him right before the assembled school.

- He is right, without correction, Principal

Everything Mr Steerforth has said is true.

- Be so good then as declare publicly, Mr Mell,

whether it ever came to
my knowledge until this moment?

I believe not directly, Principal

- You believe?
What do you mean by that?

You never supposed my worldly
circumstances to be very good,.

That is what I was trying to say.
- Not at all, Mr Mell! Not at all!

I want to say out loud that I didn't know it!
And in front of the assembled school!

You would imagine that if I had
suspected you mistook Salem House—

for a charity school, I would have
been forced to make a decision to—

- You will have no decision to make, Principal.

I bid you farewell, Principal.
And farewell to you all.

A last word, James Steerforth—

the best wish I can leave you is that you may
come to be ashamed of what you have done to-day

That is all I wish for you.

I would prefer to see you
anything rather than a friend.

To me, or to any one in whom I feel an interest.

There.

Farewell.

Farewell.

- Farewell indeed! And good riddance!
- Good riddance!

- Gentlemen, the incident is closed.
- It's closed!

- Traddles, I don't want to see
you sniffing stupidly in your corner.

- Gentlemen, before leaving you and
in front of all the assembled students,

I wish to thank James Steerforth,

who knew how to defend
the good name of Salem House.

That is all.

- That's unfair!
- Traddles, ten more strokes of the cane!

I warned you. That makes 25
to be administered before supper.

No Mr Traddles, there are
no favourites in this school.

But if you persevere, there will
surely be a favourite for the cane.

Gentlemen, until later.
Come, Tungay!

- It's not fair!
- What is not fair?

You girl.

- You hurt his feelings,
and lost him his situation.

- Be quiet.

The feelings of such a man
will soon get the better of it.

As for his situation,

do you suppose I am not going to write
home, and take care that he gets some money?

What do you take me for?

This last word suddenly erased the light shadow

that the previous scene had left in my heart.

From now on, my admiration
for Steerforth knew no bounds.

A few weeks later, it was my birthday.

I shall never forget the moment Tungay
suddenly extended his finger in my direction.

Copperfield to the Principal's office!

When destiny pointed to me with its hand.
When storm fell on my head.

No need to hurry, Copperfield, plenty of time.

For what he has to tell you ...

♪ Singing cricket,
In the attic. ♪

♪ Your wings are creaking,
With delight. ♪

Come in, young master, come in.

This is—this is Minnie, my daughter.

She finds that singing helps
the work get done quicker.

Come in, come in.

Come in.

Well, the fitting?
- I was waiting for you.

Farther, you want to go too fast,
you're still out of breath.

- But it's you who's rushing me.
- No no, it’s you!

- There it is, that’s the job that’s making us hurry.

Mourning clothes don't wait.

Not like a wedding dress.

A wedding dress can wait if necessary.

What do you say, Minnie?
- Not too long, at any rate.

It's Joram.

- Joram, our young employee.
He's in charge of the carpentry part.

Good.

We calculated on the large side.

After all, we know your family.

Your father was five feet nine inches tall.

- And a half.
- What?

- And a half.
- Oh yes, and a half, five feet nine and a half inches.

He gave us a hard time.

Five feet nine and a half inches and his
grave measures six feet eight inches, no less.

- Watch out.

You'll damage the material.
- Material of the finest quality. What we do best.

And of course, where a mother is concerned ...

Now, may I?

There. And I can tell you too,

that it is unlikely to go out of fashion.
Because you know what fashion is.

That is what makes us lose money.
Fashion. It comes, it goes—

And for what? How? Just like humans.

Ah, Joram, so how are things going on your side?

- Very well, Sir, it's finished.
- There we are, it's, finished. Already?

- I must say I worked last night
by candlelight to have it done sooner.

- Yes, you told us—
- That if we finished on time—

- We could go for a little walk this evening.
- The two of us.

- And also, I put my whole heart into it.
- Good. Very good.

- Would you care to look?
- Of course.

My dear child, if you would—
- No no, Father.

- What?

- Not him.
- Yes of course, I expect you're probably right.

Take the opportunity to pack everything up.

And Joram, go and fetch the cart.
- It will take but a minute.

The cart is here.

- Good, that's it, off you go.
You'll have your clothes tomorrow evening.

- Here Joram, help me and put this down there.

- I beg your pardon, always in a hurry.
Good evening.

- Father, not so fast, you'll run out of breath again.

- But you are the one rushing me.
- No, it's you.

- It's you!

All this, all this I see again as it were yesterday.

How many more recent events have drifted by—

towards that distant shore where
one day all things forgotten will reappear.

But that event remains like a big rock
standing in the middle of the ocean.

An orphan.
- As am I.

- And another!

- This is the family of orphans.
- Come here, you orphans!

How does your knitting progress, Mrs Gummidge?

- Do not talk to me about it.

- If I had you as my guardian, Mr Peggotty,
I don't think I should feel much like an orphan.

- Well said, my little Master Davy.

Sit down.

So, what will become of you now?

- My stepfather is sending me to London.

- Are you going back to school?
- No.

To a factory owned by one of his relatives.
I am to go to work.

- Work! Nothing like work!

Come on, old woman, stay with us.

And don't shake your head
like that. Did I shake my head?

- It's that you are less sensitive than
me, Daniel. And not upset.

- There is no way to be upset in this world,
old woman, for one who has true friends.

Isn't that right, Mr Davy?
- I have a friend at school.

His name is James.
- James?

James Steerforth.

He's the most handsome, the most generous boy I know.

And knowledgeable.

- And I do suppose now, in the way
of book-learning, he fears no one.

- On top of that, he's brave as a lion.

I am much younger than him, but he protects me.

- There's a real friend!

Isn't that so, Emily?

Emily is like me, and would like to see him.

- Halloo!
- Davy! Emily!

- Aren't they beautiful!

- What name did you say,
do you remember? In the cart?

- Clara Peggotty.

and—what name should you say now?

- Well, still Clara Peggotty.

- Clara Peggotty Barkis!

- They're married!
- They're married!

- Married!
- Married?

- Married?
- Since this morning.

Master Davy, come up quickly,
we’re going to go for a ride.

With Emily?

With Emily!
- Yeah, yeah.

Come on, get up at the back.

Come on! Get up, let's go!

We're going to see the sun set over the sea.

Emily.
- Yes?

One day, if you wish it, shall we be married?

The Murdstone and Grinby
warehouse, which traded wines,

and where my stepfather decided to make me work,

was located in London, not far from the Thames.

Copperfield!

Copperfield!

I hope I find you well, Sir?

- I'm well, thank you.

- I have heard, Sir, of an opportunity
to offer to your young hopes my modest—

but nonetheless honourable home—

In short, to offer a bedroom to the young
beginner whom I have now the pleasure to—

- Indeed Sir, I was looking for a room to rent.

- Wilkins Micawber!

Under the impression that your peregrinations
in this metropolis have not as yet been extensive,

dare I offer to guide your youthful steps in
penetrating the arcana of the Modern Babylon?

In short, to guide you to my house.
- Oh yes Sir.

I shall make myself ready.

Come! You ain’t out yet, you know. Pay us, will you?

- Don’t hide, you know; that’s mean.

- Pay us, will you? You just pay us, d’ye hear? Come!

- Who are they looking for, Mr Micawber?
- Who? An unfortunate person.

An outcast from society.

- Mr Micawber, for the last time, show yourself!

- And pay us!

This is the third time we have come for nothing.

- Rogue! Thief!
- Wastrel!

We shall meet again!

- Dear Mr Copperfield, since
the alarm seems to be over—

My dear Emma, I present to you
Mr Copperfield, our new lodger.

- Mr Copperfield will kindly excuse
my appearance and this disorder.

But the servant is out—
- My dear Emma, don't bother.

Mr Copperfield, I have already had cause to
appreciate, has judgment well beyond his years.

In addition, he has heard the howl of
the pack and the call of the huntsman's horn.

In short, he knows our embarrassment.

- When I lived at home,
Mr Copperfield, with Papa and Mama,

I had no understanding of what exactly
is meant by the word embarrassment.

It comes with experientia, as Papa used to say.

- A worthy man who wore his gaiters admirably.

- Admirably, my dear Wilkins.

Here. Will you take care of
your daughter for a moment?

So.

So this is why we have decided,
Mr Copperfield, to take in a lodger temporarily.

- As we wait for something to come up.
- Just so.

If you will permit me, Mr Copperfield,
I shall show you your room.

Mr Micawber is a man of
great talent, Mr Copperfield.

The country has never
been so much in need of talent.

But if he is hunted down to his very door,

where can we expect Mr Micawber
to find the time to travel the country?

To offer his talent?
I ask you, Mr Copperfield.

Yes Ma'am.

- Blood cannot be obtained from a stone, you know.

If these creditors will not give him time,
then put the rope around our necks immediately.

Or the convicts' ball and chain.

Give him to me, Mr Copperfield.

- Him?
- The baby, I think he's hungry.

Carefree youth who can sustain themselves
at the generous fountains of Nature.

By the way, my dear Emma,
and to do honour to our host—

in short, shall we have a little treat?
- May I ask, my friend, what you are looking for?

The landlord came to see us this morning.

And due to lack of money I had to
appease him with a little beer and cold bacon.

- So in short—

- In short, a crust of Dutch cheese
is all that's to be found in the office.

When I say in the office,
it's a habit, Mr Copperfield.

In memory of my time with Mama and papa.

- If I may, Ma'am—
- No no.

No, Mr Copperfield, far be it from my thoughts.

- No, leave it, Mr Copperfield.

When things come to the worst, there's
always a way out for a man of honour

At least when he has something to shave at home.

- Stop him, Mr Copperfield, Stop him!

He's going to cut his own throat!

- My dear Copperfield, the solemnity of the
moment authorizes me to name you thus.

I have nothing else to offer you as hospitality,

while waiting for something else to turn up,

and now it would be too late.

Just one piece of advice, and that advice is this:

if a man had twenty pounds a year for his income,

and spent nineteen pounds nineteen
shillings and sixpence, result: happiness,

Annual expenditure twenty
pounds ought and six, result: misery.

it's the wreckage of your whole life.
There it is!

- My poor Papa's maxim.

The only thing he bequeathed
to us was this clock with figures,

symbolising the fatal flow of time.

And this book of Plato.

And talking of Plato, tell me dear Emma—
- Yes, my friend?

- An idea comes to me.

An idea that could change my resolution.

- There exists no better consolation than Plato.

That is what Papa always said.

- Do you know Plato, Mr Copperfield?
- No Sir.

Such a pity, my dear chap, such a pity.

Therein is always something from which to draw,
in the worst moments of existence, more than comfort.

- I have no doubt of it, Sir.

- Take it quickly, you'll see it out without delay.
- Me?

- My dear Copperfield, you enjoy
the enviable agility of youth.

In short, you'll jump down the stairs faster than I.

Besides, I feel no urgent desire to appear
in the neighbourhood this evening.

Plato, thou reasonest well.
It’s all up now. I can show fight no more.

Well, that’s precisely what
the young Cato said to Plato.

Take it quickly!
- What, Sir?

- Plato, to the pawnbroker who lives
three houses from here in the Strand.

He's quite accommodating and
will give you a good guinea for it.

Emma, my love—

you don't see too many disadvantages
in temporarily sacrificing Plato—

on the altar of family necessity?

- If it is necessary, my dear love.

- As we wait, naturally, for something to turn up.

Which will not be long.

- I have no doubt of it, sweetheart.

- Go Copperfield, and bring us back
something to fight adversity.

In short, enough to make a little feast.

- I'll run there, Mr Micawber.
- Bravo Mr Copperfield!

Go! Run! Run, my friend!

And don't forget the rum, sugar and lemons.

I'm going to prepare you a punch, my own way.

From day to day,

Mr Micawber's embarrassments
and my diligent care

gradually emptied our house in Windsor Street

of a good number of objects, utensils,

and the furniture easiest to carry away.

By and by, there only remained,
in the middle of this desert,

Mrs Micawber's father's clock.

Then, one evening, returning from the factory ...

What's the matter, Mr Micawber?

- The matter, Mr Copperfield, the matter is—

the merciless axe of necessity
has come to cut off the flower of hope.

I am devastated, destroyed.

In short, these gentlemen are come to arrest me.

Now, Mr Copperfield, this is your home.

Watch over those bare walls
in case something should turn up.

One never knows.

In short, hope does not die.

Take heart, Mr Copperfield.

My hour will come. I am at peace.

I will follow you, gentlemen.

Suddenly an idea popped up
into my brain and settled there.

The idea of going to find the aunt
from Dover whom I did not know.

Who had never seen me.
Who didn't want to see me.

And whose visit on the evening of my
birth my mother had so often told me about.

Sir!
- Sir?

Would you like a little job?
- What job?

Carry a trunk.
- A trunk?

- To the Dover stagecoach office.
- Dover?

- That's where I'm going, Dover.
I'll give you a sixpence.

- A sixpence?

Done for a sixpence!
Where is this trunk?

- Just here.

Here.

Just a moment, I haven't put on a label.

What? You're going to bolt, aren't you!
Isn't that it? Admit it!

You must go and explain yourself to the police.

Thief! Thief!
Police! Police!

Stop! Stop!

After three days and three nights
of walking, with an empty stomach,

harassed with hunger,
tiredness and anxiety,

my clothes in rags,

I finally arrived at Dover,

where Miss Betsey Trotwood's house was shown to me,

at the top of the cliff.

Janet, the donkeys.
- Go away, it's forbidden.

My mistress forbids you to walk in front of the house.

Will you please go away!
Whatever are you thinking!

It's forbidden to walk through here.
Go away, hurry up!

Go away!

If you please, Ma'am.
- What?

- I beg your pardon—if you please, Aunt.
- What?

- I am your nephew.

- Oh Lord! What is he talking about?

- I am David Copperfield, of Blunderstone.

Where you came on the night when
I was born, and saw my dear mama.

I know about it.

She is dead.

I have been very unhappy since she died.

So I ran away, and have walked three days to find you.

Merciful Lord.

Janet!

- Yes Miss?
- Janet.

Go upstairs, give my compliments to
Mr. Dick, and say I wish to speak to him.

- Right away, Miss.
- Go!

Merciful Lord.

Mr Dick!
Mr Dick, don't be a fool.

Nobody can be more discreet
than you can, when you choose.

Now then!

Mr Dick, you have heard me mention
David Copperfield? From Blunderstone?

Now don’t pretend not to have a memory,
because you and I know better.

- David Copperfield?

Oh yes, to be sure. David Copper—
- Well, this is his son.

He would be as like his
father as it’s possible to be,

if he was not so like his mother, too.

- His son? David's son? Indeed!
- And do you know what he has done?

He has run away!

From where, I do not yet know.

No matter.
Now we have a problem!

His sister, Betsey Trotwood, never would
have run away, to put us in such a pass.

- His sister, do you really think
she wouldn't have put you in—

- Certainly!

And for a good reason.

Because his sister would have
lived here, with her godmother.

Where, in the name of wonder, should
his sister, Betsey Trotwood, have run from, or to?

- Nowhere.
- As you say.

So.

Give me some advice, Mr Dick.

And don't pretend to be wool-gathering,
Dick, when you are as sharp as a surgeon’s lancet!

Some good advice.

What should be done—

with this child?

- With—with David's son.

- Some very good advice, Mr Dick.

- Well—

If I were you—

I would wash him!

- That's the best advice
I have ever received, Mr Dick.

Janet!

Janet.

Heat the bath!
- Right away, Miss.

And what do you think of that for a kite?
- It's a beautiful one, Mr Dick.

- Yes, and I made it myself.

And as you'll see, we can attach
pieces of paper along the string.

And then up there, the paper flies
away and falls back down. That's all.

- Paper?
- Yes, where I write a word or a sentence.

- But why?

- That is my manner of diffusing my thoughts.

Now listen, you have been to school, I think?

- Yes, Mr Dick.
- Oh good, good.

So you know when King Charles I had his head cut off?

- In 1649, I believe, Mr Dick.

- Indeed?

Well, I didn't think I would be that old.
- You, Mr Dick? But why?

- Maybe the schoolmasters are wrong, do you think?

No?
- I don't think so, Mr Dick.

But why?

- Because then, at the moment when
this unfortunate king's head was cut off,

someone, I don't know who,
but someone very reckless,

made the mistake of putting some of the trouble
out of his head, after it was taken off, into mine.

And here I am.

David!

- Miss Trotwood's calling you.
Your aunt. Go quickly, quickly.

And do everything she tells you.
She's the most admirable women.

David!
- I'm coming, Aunt.

- Good.

You no longer look like a bandit.

By the way, I wrote to him yesterday.
- To whom?

- To your stepfather.

- He knows?

- He knows you are here. I have told him.

- Does that mean—

I shall be given up to him?

I don't know, we shall see.

- But—
- Later, I tell you.

Mr Dick is waiting for you.

Janet! Donkeys!

Go on your way!
Violation of private property!

I'll have you all arrested.
Go away!

- Aunt, Aunt!
- What, Aunt?

- It's Mr Murdstone and his sister.
- Well?

Is that a reason to let my grass be crushed?
And my home violated?

Very well, Janet, let them in.

Not the donkeys!

- Aunt!
Should I leave?

- No, stay with me!

- Would you please come with me?

You are the Mr. Murdstone who married the
widow of my late nephew, David Copperfield,

of Blunderstone Rookery?
- I am, Madam.

Though why Rookery, I don’t know,

nor why that poor child had to
throw herself into a second marriage,

like a moth to a flame.

Certainly not for her happiness.

- Nor especially that of my brother.

Clara was just a child. A charming one—

- You and I, ma’am, getting on in life, are unlikely
to be made unhappy by our personal attractions,

must take comfort that no one can say the same of us.

An obvious consolation, gon't you think?

Come this way.

Ma'am, we thought it better
to respond to your letter in person.

Resigned as we are to expect nothing
but inconvenience from this child.

One cannot encounter him without
a feeling of shame and disappointment.

- A feeling not contradicted
by seeing him again today.

- That's why I tried to open
for him the doors of existence—

by placing him with a reputable business—
- One moment.

Would you have placed him with this
reputable business had he been your own son?

- If he had been my brother’s own boy,
he would have been altogether different.

- Or if that poor child,
his mother, had been alive?

Would you have placed him there as well?
- My late wife loved her second husband.

- Unfortunate woman.

Very well.

Is there anything else you wish to say?

- This, Madam, and only this:

I have come to take David back without
condition to dispose of him as I think right.

But I expect he will have made
complaints and recriminations to you.

I must caution you that if you abet
him once, you abet him for good and all.

If you step in between him and me now—

you must step in, Miss Trotwood, for ever.

So, is he ready to go?

If he is not, my doors are shut against him henceforth.

And yours, I take it for granted, are open to him.

- Well, ma’am, have you got anything to remark?

- All that I could say has been
so well said by my brother.

Other than to thank you for
your very great politeness, I am sure.

And what does the boy say?

Are you ready to go, David?

- I beg you, Aunt,

don't let me go with them.
They never liked me.

- Mr Dick.

What shall I do with this child?

- Have him—

Have him measured for a suit of clothes directly.

GOLDEN CROSS INN

Years passed.

Thanks to my aunt Betsey, I was
no longer a miserable, abandoned child.

And one evening, in London,
at the Golden Cross Inn,

it is no longer a little boy
the receptionist is questioning.

What name?
- Copperfield.

Room forty-four, Copperfield.

- You didn't call me Murdstone?

- If you're Mr Copperfield, why do
you want me to call you Murdstone?

William!
- Madam?

- Take this gentleman to room forty-four.

- One moment, I'd like—
- Would the gentleman perhaps care to have dinner?

Follow me, Sir.

There you are, you'll do very well here, Sir.

What may I serve you, Sir?
Our young gentlemen like poultry in general.

Otherwise I have veal? The veal cutlet
is very popular with our young gentlemen.

Unless Sir—
- Do you have any pudding?

- Pudding?

Of course.
- Raisin pudding?

- Raisin pudding. Well our young
gentlemen don't really appreciate it—

- What do you mean?
You no longer like raisin pudding, William?

- Me? I—

I don't understand what you mean, Sir.

- Bring me that pudding, William!
- Yes Sir.

There.
- No, not for me.

Not for you, Sir?
Then I don't understand.

- Take it to that table over there,
under the geography map.

Indulge me, William.

- Very well, Sir.

Here?

- But someone is there, Sir.
- A little boy, isn't it?

Getting ready to go to school.
- Oh no, Sir, it's—

It's a young gentleman, Sir.

- William.
- If you insist, Sir.

Steerforth!

Don't you recognise me?
Have you forgotten me?

- My God! It's little Copperfield!
- Steerforth!

I never was so glad. I am so overjoyed to see you!

- Why, Copperfield, old boy, don’t be overpowered!

Sit down.

What a turn-up! Now I recognise you.

I knew you immediately,
but you are more easily remembered

- Why, how do you come to be here?

I was adopted by an aunt who lives in Dover.

Having just finished my education there,
and while waiting to choose a career,

I was making a little pilgrimage. What about you?
- Me?

I am what they call an Oxford man.

That is to say I get bored
to death down there, periodically.

Now I'm on my way to my mother, who lives out of town.

- Oxford. You're still so brilliant.
- Me?

- You'll quickly earn all the diplomas.

- Good Lord, what for?

To gain the admiration of fools?
- I don't know, for the glory.

You are a very Daisy!

A real daisy, you have not changed.

The daisy of the field, at sunrise,
is not fresher than you are!

I like you, Daisy.

Don't leave me, we can spend the evening together.

- But your mother?
- Ah, my mother—

If I listened to myself, I would
spend my life snuggled up next to her.

I can tell you that for her I'm
the eighth wonder of the world.

- I think I would get along
quite well with your mother.

You'll get to know her.
She lives at the back of a lugubrious house,

surrounded by long, even more lugubrious figures.

Wait.

I just need to talk to him.

Good evening Littimer!
What brings you here?

- Excuse me, Master James,
we're just outside, with the cart.

- Who else?

- Miss Dartle is there too.
- Of course.

- And Miss Mowcher.
- Well, bring her in.

- Miss Dartle?
- No, bring in Miss Mowcher.

As for Miss Dartle, I don't care if we
tell her or not, she'll be here in five minutes.

- Very good, Sir.

- Who is this Miss Dartle you treat so cavalierly?

- She's my mother's lady-in-waiting.

Come in, Miss Mowcher.
Come in.

My head is yours.

Tell me more about your pilgrimage.
- It started here.

Then my childhood home with its big trees.

And then Yarmouth, where I'm going tomorrow.

- Yarmouth. To listen to you, it's the best.

- A fishermen's house on the beach.
Relatives of my old servant, Peggotty.

You remember the one who
sent me cakes when we were at school?

A whole family of good people.
- Ancestors with leathery skin.

Who play upon the bagpipe.
- No, no, there are young people too.

A little girl who played with me on the beach.

How silly of me, she must be a woman by now.

- Indeed?
- This is my pilgrimage.

Add to that a little trip to Salem House.

Wouldn’t you like to visit Salem House with me?

- Oh yes—to shoot at it with a cannon!

Instead of that, I would happily
accompany you to your fishermen.

- Really? What a wonderful idea.

- I have always wanted to see savages up close.
- James!

- James!

Do you think this fair?
You know your mother awaits you.

- Would you allow me a question, Rosa?
Is it my mother, or you, who awaits me?

- You know your mother, James.

When she worries—
- Who worries?

My mother or you?

You haven't answered my question.

So.

The kind of bickering that keeps us busy all day.

We must have some way to pass the time.

- What a strange scar she has on her lip.
- Everything is strange about Rosa Dartle.

- She loves you as a brother, does she not?
- Yes.

There are brothers we love too little and others—
- Excuse me, Master James.

Miss Dartle—
Tell Miss Dartle that I'm going to Yarmouth!

To visit the savages,
in the company of my friend Daisy.

Come in, come in, young gentlemen.

Gentlemen, Emily, real gentlemen from London.

Young handsome gentlemen come to visit us.

Master Davy.

I recognized you straight away.
- Really, Mr Peggotty?

My friend James—
- I know him too.

You told us about him before.
Mr Leeforth or Roserforth?

- No, Steerforth.
- That's it, Steerforth, that's what I said!

I recognize him without ever having seen him.
- I recognize you too, Mr Peggotty.

And Ham, and little Emily, and Mrs Gummidge.

- He knows my name.

- And do you recognize this one, Mr Davy?

Peggotty!
- My darling boy!

- And how is Barkis, Peggotty?
- The poor man is abed with rheumatism.

It hurts his back.
It hurts his limbs.

And over time, it ends up cramping his brain.
- His brain?

- Yes, all he thinks of is that chest.

He has it on a chair next to his bed.

- Poor Barkis.

- Emily?

What do you say to Master Davy?

- Do you remember, Emily?
When we collected shells?

- I remember it very well, Sir.

And when you were running on the pier and
I was afraid you were going to fall into the water.

Would you do it again, Emily?
- I don't think I would dare to now, Master Davy.

Sir, do you see this child who's my niece?

- Yes.

David has told me a lot about her, Mr Peggotty.

There's surely something about her
he doesn't know and couldn't tell you.

I only found out myself five minutes ago.

Master Davy.
You who know this house—

haven't you smelled something
new in the air this evening?

- Your house always smells of the sea, Mr Peggotty.

- Yes, and the sea always smells the same.

That's what you city gentlemen say.

But for us—

it's never quite the same smell,
depending on whether it's calm or stormy.

The rising or the ebb tide.

Well I can tell you this evening, here and now,
it's the rising tide like never before, Master Davy.

The great full moon tide
will drown our hearts with joy.

Master Davy.

This little girl, your friend back in the days,

here she comes home from work
this evening and Ham is with her.

Like every evening.
- Like every evening.

So far, nothing extraordinary.

But here they are, holding out
their joined hands to us.

Let us see, Ham.

And now they're engaged.

Oh no, old woman, don't cry like that.

- The happiness of others makes me cry.

- Now is not the time to cry, Mrs Gummidge.

And don't say again that
you're a lone lorn creature.

- Does he know that too?
- He knows everything, Mrs Gummidge.

- Then he's a wizard.
- A little yes.

But seeing you all together
and happy, I envy you, Mr Peggotty.

I wish I could be a sailor like you.

- Really, Sir?
- Yes really.

After all, what would it take
for me to be a real sailor?

A boat, for a start.
- Well I need one!

A good boat that I can anchor next to yours.

- We'll find one for you.
This is our Ham, my nephew.

And more than my nephew after tonight.

He works in the shipyards now.
- I'll build it for you, Sir.

And with my own hands.
- Bravo, Ham!

And do you know what we'll name this boat?

The “Little Emily”

The days passed.
I had chosen a profession.

I'm now a prosecutor's clerk.
I have a furnished flat in London.

That my aunt Betsey came
to inspect with meticulous care.

Always full of enthusiasm, David.

To tell the truth, I find the stairs a little narrow.

Thank God the river flows
beneath your window, to balance that.

- But why do you speak about the river—
- In case of fire!

Nothing burns like London's houses.

It's always better to have water nearby.

Luckily, you're not far from the roof.

You could take refuge there if necessary.

Listen!
I hear a cry!

- It's a beggar.
- What is he saying?

Are you sure he's not calling Fire?
- He is only asking for charity.

- Come on, Aunt, you can return to Dover
reassured about the fate of your nephew.

I must hurry, Mr Dick is waiting for me.
- Are you afraid that something will happen to him?

I'm very afraid he will not
have the necessary firmness—

to prevent donkeys from getting in the garden.

And then I don't like leaving
him alone for too long with Charles I.

- Certainly, Aunt, you're our good angel.

- If only I were.
- Well?

- I would have much to say.
- About whom? About what?

- About your bad angels.
- About my bad angels?

- Your bad angel.

This time it's a fire!

- A letter for Mr David Copperfield.

Thank you Sir.

- Will you excuse me?

Well?

- It's from my friend Steerforth.

He is announcing his arrival
this evening from Oxford.

- And there you have him.

- What do you mean?

Steerforth?

You don't mean him?
- I mean him, my dear David. Him.

- You barely know him.

If I could tell you everything he did
for me in those days of humiliation.

What a guide, what a support, what a friend!

- A dreamer. An incorrigible dreamer.

Like your father with his rooks.
- His rooks?

- Where there are nests, there are rooks?

Your heart beats with friendship,
therefore he is a friend.

A dreamer!

- When you know him better, you'll do him justice.

- Blind.

Listen! Again!

Micawber!

This time I can assure you
someone is crying for help.

Mr Micawber!

- It's upstairs, don't worry.

The milkman demands his money
every day from the tenant upstairs.

- And that makes you smile?

- I think I must know that tenant.

Mr Micawber!
- Goodbye, dear child.

- God bless you, Aunt.

Mr Micawber! Mr Micawber, open! Open Mr Micawber!

How are you, Mr Micawber?

- Thank you Sir, you're too kind.
I am in statu quo.

I can't believe it! Copperfield!

I was walking through the streets meditating
on the idea that something could turn up.

And what turns up? A friend!

The friend of my youth!!
The companion of earlier days!

- And where have you been since then, Mr Micawber?

I'm down, my dear Copperfield.

Since it is to a friend I speak,
let me say it out loud,

down, down and hurt.

- The milkman?

- He added but one drop to the cup of bitterness.

Allow me to tell you with
all the ancient frankness that is mine.

I am not far from being devastated.

- I think Mrs Micawber yet shows much courage.

- Mrs Micawber is always exemplary.
The children are growing up.

And it may not be impossible,
I would confide to you,

that in a few months, nature will
provide an additional unit of love.

In short, that one more unit will be
added to the number of our children.

- At least that is some good news, Mr Micawber.

And it's appropriate to celebrate with friends.
I expect you here this evening, with Madame.

- But I wouldn't—
- Come come, Mr Micawber.

There will be rum, sugar and lemons.

You see? I have not forgotten my lesson.

And we shall honour your talents
by asking you to prepare a punch.

- Ah Copperfield, my friend,

never in my life have I felt greater relief,

than by pouring out my sorrows
into the bosom of a friend like you.

But since you mention
this eminently British drink,

made to flatter the senses and expand the hearts,

so allow me to tell you,
with all my ancient frankness,

this is the most beautiful day of my life.

Let us drink to the old days.
Those old days when my friend Copperfield and I,

were younger, and struggled
side by side on the path of life.

- To our memories, Mr Micawber!

And now to business, Mr Micawber.
I'm told you sell wheat against commission.

- To tell you the truth, my dear Copperfield,

even if the wheat trade is generally
doing well it is not remunerative.

- I am a practical woman, Mr Copperfield.
You know me.

I ask myself this question:
if wheat is not to be relied uopn, what is?

I ask you, Mr Copperfield.

Coal?
We have turned our attention to that experiment,

and found it fallacious.

Now. What characterizes Mr Micawber?
The distinction of his manners.

- Oh, my dear Emma.
- Let me speak, dear friend.

His manners which so much pleased my poor Papa.

- A distinguished man, Mr Copperfield.
- I know.

- And who had no equal when it came
to reading printed letters without glasses.

- I have a conviction—

that Mr. Micawber’s manners peculiarly
qualify him for the Banking business.

If I had a deposit at a banking-house,
his manners would inspire confidence.

I would abandon my capital
to Mr Micawber's discretion.

But if the banking-houses of this country are blind,
and refuse even to answer Mr Micawber's letters—

Is this a dream to be nurtured for longer?
- Clearly not.

And here is Mr. Micawber without
any suitable position or employment.

Where does that responsibility rest?
Clearly on society.

- Of course!
- But there lies the scandal, Mr Copperfield.

I am a practical woman.

There remains but one thing for Mr Micawber to do.

To stand up and challenge society to set it right!

“Here I am, Micawber, gifted with such qualities.”

"I throw down the gauntlet to society.
Show me who will take it up."

- Bravo!
- Bravo!

I beg your pardon. Is Mr Steerforth not here?

- No, Miss Dartle.

He told me that when he came back from Oxford—
- Oxford.

- Something must have delayed him.
Would you care to wait for him with us?

- I would not wish to intrude—

- Not at all, Miss, we were abourt to leave.

- Would you follow me? Go in there.

I shall say goodbye to my friends.

Listen.

Isn't that someone calling you?

- There's a beggar under the window.

- Do not fret like that, Miss Dartle.

I can tell you that James stayed at Oxford.

My presence here suggests that he is not there.
That's where I have just come from.

- I am but his friend, Miss Dartle.

- You still do not understand, Mr Copperfield,
what we all are to him, friend or otherwise?

Toys he quickly loses interest in, but
cannot abandon until he has broken them.

Yes. You smile, you think you're safe.

Better still, you do your best
to provide him with new toys.

No doubt so that he gets
tired of others even more quickly.

- I really don't know what you mean, Miss Dartle.

- Look at this scar.
It was his doing.

It is the work of James Steerforth.
He was seven years old.

That day, I exasperated him.
As usual, I expect you'll say.

He threw a hammer at my head.
I still have the scar.

- He was a child, Miss.

- It is certainly wrong
of you to smile, Mr Copperfield.

What is rare in the wounds that
James Steerforth inflicts upon you,

is that they never fade.

Beware of those he ll leave on you one day.

And pray God it will be as late as possible.

- I fear nothing, Miss Dartle.

- I detest you, David Copperfield.

Were you here?
- I've just arrived.

The tigress had shown her claws.
I preferred to hide, like a shy hare.

- You did well.

I think she would have torn your eyes out.
Go in the room, the fire is burning.

In you go, I'll get you a drink.

What's the matter with you?
Is it Rosa Dartle?

You look pale.
- I was thirsty.

That's what made me melancholic.
- Must you always deprecate yourself?

- No, it's the truth, the pure truth.
What am I, eh?

A spoiled child?
A favourite, as Mr Mell said?

- You remember that?

Mr Mell knew me—quite well.

- I know you. You play the cynic,
but I have seen you with simple people.

I saw you at the Peggottys, I know
the treasures of tenderness you hide.

- Who's that shouting?
- There's a beggar under the window.

- What's he saying?

- He's crying blind.

Now I think of it, weren't you in Oxford?

And where were you hiding
from everyone chasing you?

- In Yarmouth.

- Ah, your boat definitely fascinates you.

- My boat? Yes.

It'll be ready soon.
- Tell me, how are they all?

Little Emily not married yet?

- No.

In a few days, I think, I don't know.
By the way, I have a letter for you.

- For me?
- From your old nurse, yes.

Old what's-his-name isn't doing very well.

- Barkis, you mean?
- Yes, the carrier.

He cannot be far from setting
out on what we call his last journey.

Here.

- Oh, poor Peggotty.

If you don't mind, I'll go down there.
For Peggotty.

I think it'll do her good to see me.

You would do the same thing in my place.
Would you not?

- What?

Forgive me, I'm exhausted.

I think I'll ask for your hospitality for the night.

- I'll leave you the whole flat.

I just have time, the Yarmouth
coach leaves in an hour.

Sleep. I'll be far away when you wake up.

- David!

- It's very rare for you to call me David.

No doubt—what I have to tell you is not ordinary.

Would you prefer me to call you Daisy?

You're right, it's the name that suits you best.

I too would like someone to call me Daisy.

Listen to me David—Daisy—Copperfield.

Listen.

You're going to make me a promise.
- What promise?

- If something serious were to separate us.

- What on earth is on your mind?

- Listen to me.

If anything should separate us, promise me—

promise me you'll only remember my good side.

- For me, all you have is
a good side, you know that well.

- You promise?

Good night, Daisy.

He was already asleep, his head on his folded arm.

Like so many times I had seen him sleeping at school.

Never again.

I didn't know it that night.

Never again should I touch that hand in friendship.

Never.

Never again.

Blind!

Blind!

It's all to do with that chest.

He placed it on a chair next to his bed.

Barkis,

Barkis, my friend, wake up.

Don't you want to see Master Davy?

The one who brought us together.
Look at him, Barkis.

That you sent messages by, you know?.

Come, Barkis.

Won't you speak to Master Davy?

- He's coming round.

- Clara—

Peggotty.

Barkis.

- Do you remember, Mr Barkis?

When you asked me her name?
And everything she did?

- All the cooking, and the baking.

Is that it?
- All true.

Did I deceive you, Mr Barkis?

- All true, absolutely true.

As true as taxes, Sir.

There is nothing more true than taxes.

- Certainly Mr Barkis.
- Nothing is more true—

than what a poor man like me makes of his thoughts.

I am a poor man, Sir, very poor.

- I believe you, Mr Barkis.

Old clothes.
- Yes.

- I wish it was money.
- So do I, Mr Barkis.

- And that's not money.

It never will be.

Never.

- He's going out with the tide.
- With the tide?

- Yes, along this coast, we die
at low tide, and are born at high tide.

The sea will be low soon.

If he lives until it comes back up,

He'll hold on until the next low tide.

- Ham.

- Master Davy, you've come.

I'm here to collect Emily.
- Emily is not here.

- No?
- No.

- Master Davy, she's very sensitive.

Tthis poor old man, about to die—

has moved her deeply.
Even at her age.

- But where is she?
- How could I know?

You have plenty of time to have her with you, Ham.

You'll be married in a week,
then she'll never leave you again.

You see, the old man there, it—

it drove her quite out of her mind.

Barkis, Barkis, what's wrong with you?
Oh Barkis, darling.

Darling, say something. Answer me!

Barkis! Barkis! Can you hear me?

Barkis. Darling.

Oh, Master Davy.

Barkis, answer me!
Darling.

Darling.

- Barkis—is willing.

And as the water was low, he went out with the tide.

And now a sense fear comes over me.

A threatening cloud hangs over Yarmouth
whither my steps lead me.

And I hardly dare to think about
what happened that memorable evening.

What will happen next if I continue.

I remember that evening.

Three days earlier, we had buried poor Barkis.

And I returned to the boat on foot,
as always, unable to avoid—

stopping at that place where, a few years earlier,

Emily and I had collected shells.
- Stop. Come back! You'll fall!

Come back!

Emily!

Emily...

Ham.
- She's gone, Mr Davy.

- Gone?
- She's run away.

But how?
- What—?

- If I tell you that I, who love her
more than anything in the world,

that I pray the good Lord to kill her.

How will you understand?

This is how.

- Read it again, Master Davy.

Slowly, please.

So that I understand.

- When you read this, I shall be far away.

When I leave my dear home later,

it will be never to return.

Unless—

unless he takes me back,

having made me a lady.

- Who is he?

There's a man suspected. Who is he?

Who?

- Master Davy, please,

Will you come out a minute?

I have something to tell Master Davy
that you must not hear.

Who is he?

- The boat—

That brand new boat I built with my own hands.

We saw it weighing anchor last night.

Emily was there.

With him.

- Steerforth.

Master Davy.

Forgive me, Master Davy.

I did not wish to name him in front of you.

It's no fault of yours.

But it's him!

His name is Steerforth!

And he's a damned villain!

- Mrs Steerforth will be here directly.

Sit down, Sir.

- I’d sooner stand.

I shouldn’t feel it natural,
Ma’am, to sit down in this house.

- I know, with deep regret, what has brought you here.

What do you ask me to do?

Please to read that, Ma’am.

That’s my niece’s hand.

- Well?

“Unless he brings me back a lady.”

I come to know, ma’am, whether he will keep his word?
- No!

- Why not?

- It is impossible. It would be a misalliance.

- I'm not sure I understand that word, Ma'am.

I'm just a poor sailor.

You mean, I think, that—

that my niece has too little of something,
ot perhaps too much, I don't know?

Something that would
affect the balance in your family.

If it us, her family, who are affecting that balance,

keep her with you.

We will never see her again.

We swear to you.

It will be as if she were—abroad.

Or dead.

But—

She will keep her honour.

- That is impossible, Sir.
Do not make me say more.

That would only be to your greater hurt.

But if there is any other compensation—

- Forgive me, Ma'am, but I believe
the pain you're experiencing—

prevents you from accurately assessing the pain
James Steerforth has inflicted upon this man.

You will allow me, since I was his friend,
who has also been cruelly harmed me by this act—

- He thrusts at me through you, Mr Copperfield!

Me he fights. Me he aims at. Only me!

Not you nor anyone else.

What is this affair?
Just another tantrum,

a whim, such as I have seen James invent a thousand,

since he learned the rare
pleasure of making me suffer.

He challenged every time.

It was enough to see him watching me
when he trod upon some precious object.

When he threatened to burn the house down.

He has achieved that today—the house is on fire.

And if I am struggling now
in the midst of the flames,

I hardly care how he ignited them.

Or under what ridiculous pretext.

My only concern for your niece, Sir, is this::

Let him put away his whim now, and he is welcome back.

Otherwise, he will never
set foot in this house again.

Neither him, nor those who
would talk to me about him.

There you have it.

We have nothing more to say to each other.
Farewell.

- Come, Mr Peggotty.

Months passed, water flowed in
the river, shimmering like frail hope.

Mr Peggotty continued his quest, tirelessly.

Crossing the seas, running the roads,
questioning sailors and travellers.

When one evening, he arranged
to meet me at the river's edge.

She's alive, Master Davy.
- Have you found her?

- Her trail.
From a sailor returning from Naples.

Where that man—

I shall never be able to speak his name, Master Davy.

That's where he led her.

That's where he left her.
- Well then?

- Well? Think about it, Master Davy.

If there remains within her
some zest for life, she will come back.

- And if she comes back, where would she go?
Where else but home to Yarmouth?

- Had she left of her own free will, yes,
but not as it was. She'll try to hide instead.

- But where?

- What better place for her to hide than in London?

- And in London?
- Where all the wrecks end up.

Near the river.

We have to look for her.

Who are you? What do you want?
- To see you.

- Me?

- I came to look at James Steerforth's—whim.

Stay there!
Or everyone will know what you are.

A girl we can take and leave, like he did to you.

- Have mercy on me!
- How can you beg for mercy?

Have you even thought
about the home you destroyed?

- It's barely an hour since I thought
about it, if that's what you want to know.

I never stopped thinking about
my uncle, about my poor Ham—

- That is not the home I mean.
I mean that of James Steerforth.

The one where I live with his mother.

Where you would not even
be engaged as a kitchen maid!

And you destroyed everything
out of vanity! Out of frivolity!

- No!

If you live with him, you know his power,
that power he has over a girl too sensitive.

I believed in him.

Perhaps that will make you forgive me.

I believed in him and I loved him.

- Do you even understand
the meaning of the words you utter?

Learn that women who truly love die of it.

They suffer, they burn, they bear the scars.

And you, who are you?
What fire is burning in you?

Where are your scars?
If you—

- Emily!

Emily, nothing to fear now, I'm here.
I'll take you far away.

You'll go with me across the sea.
We'll emigrate.

Come. Come.

No one will ever torment you again.

A few days later, I went
to say goodbye to the emigrants.

Goodbye, my dear little boy.

- You as well, Mrs Gummidge?
- We weren't going to leave her alone, Master Davy.

- Alone? Oh, my poor Daniel.

Do you really know what it is to be alone?

- Mr Micawber!
This is unexpected!

- Ah, my dear Copperfield.

The gauntlet Mrs Micawber
spoke of at our last meeting—

has been picked up by a resident of the New World.

in short, a settler from New South Wales
has offered us a farm to work upon.

- A noble calling, Mr Micawber.

- And that's not all, Mr Copperfield.

You know as well as I
the rare skills of Mr Micawber.

- Certainly, Ma'am.

Do you think this temporary exile in a distant land
could really hinder the fulfilment of one's career?

- What do you mean, Ma'am?

- I mean should Mr Micawber give up by expatriating,

certain high dignities to which
he had the right to aspire?

- My dear, we have plenty of time.

- You have always had plenty of time
not to see far enough, my dear Wilkins.

Let Mr Copperfield answer.

- What dignities do you mean, Mrs Micawber?

- I don't know—the position
of a judge? Even the cabinet.

Chancellor of the Exchequer.
- By which you mean—

- When you have the skills
of Mr Micawber, the path is clear.

you must simply follow it.
Mr Copperfield, that's enough.

I'm now fully reassured.
I'm delighted for Mr Micawber.

I'm delighted for England.

- Let England take care of herself, my dear.

She has failed to do much for me so far.

If there is anything I regret
in this country, my dear Copperfield,

it would only be some
quintessentially British drinks.

- You are wrong to say that, Mr Micawber.

I am sure—and I would be unworthy
of my dear Papa if I wasn't sure—

I am sure you will make History.

- Mr Copperfield.

- Emily.

- If you see Ham,

tell him not an hour has passed
without me thinking of him.

Tell him that maybe one day,

here or there—

No. Don't tell him that.

Not yet.

So there they were fading away,
all the faces of my childhood.

Like familiar ghosts
on their way to a distant shore.

And while the ship carried them away,

it seemed to me that destiny
lined them up there, at the railing,

carefully stored, protected
from any further contamination.

as in the carefully sealed chest of my memory.

The next day, I returned to Yarmouth,

to bring Emily's message to Ham.

The emigrant ship had no sooner
left the shores of England,

than a terrible storm broke out over the coast.

All night, as the stagecoach
took me towards Yarmouth,

the wind blew furiously.

When I reached Yarmouth at daybreak,
the sea had finally calmed.

The Peggotty house was unrecognizable.

The fury of the elements had torn it to pieces.

We had a furious storm last night, Sir.

- Was Ham at sea?
- No Sir, not last night.

He was with us on the shore.
A terrible sight, Sir.

A ship in distress, there, right in front of us,
fighting against the raging waves.

We stood there unable to do anything,
watching the men struggle, shouting to them.

Suddenly, we shouted even louder.

A large wave had just covered the ship and its crew.

And when it came into view again, there was
only one man left clinging to the mast.

A young man.

- And—Ham?

- Ham.

That was when he could no longer stand
looking at the man all alone in the storm.

“I'm going,” he said, “tie a rope round my waist.”

We tried to hold him back but
suddenly he heard the castaway screaming.

Can you believe it, Sir? We would
swear he was calling Ham's name.

But who can tell, with such a wind blowing.

Still, nothing could hold him back.

He threw himself into the sea.
As if he could do anything about it!

He hadn't done twenty strokes

when the storm engulfed the ship with its passenger.

- And Ham?
What became of him?

And the other one?

The one he wanted to save, have you found him?

- Here! Over here!

Come! Come quickly!

He was sleeping with his
head resting on his folded arm,

as I had seen him sleeping so many times,

at school.

English subtitles
by jeremys and Marseille

TNT 2024