Vanity Fair (2018) s01e07 Episode Script
Endings and Beginnings
1 The story so far Two friends left school together.
Two girls became women, and wives, till jealousy tore their friendship apart.
Read it.
I mean every word.
As Miss Sharp escaped her lowly start I've arrived.
so Miss Sedley sank to the depths of misery.
Till the day Becky flew too high.
Tonight, Becky is lost and then she is found but does she have a happy ending? Well, this is Vanity Fair.
A world where everyone is striving for what is not worth having.
Becky.
Becky.
Becky! Oh, that it should come to this.
To lose our shop to the bailiffs because my husband wouldn't stand up to her.
Men! I don't want more money.
I might as well have offered to pay off the national debt.
- I said I don't want money.
- What, then? What? Rawdon.
It is the boy.
Go to your room! Mother is the name for God in the minds of little children, and my boy worships a stone.
Or he did.
He got over it.
We both got over it.
There's 600 here.
Give it to Paul Briggs.
I should never have taken it off her.
Listen, Bute.
I think you'd agree that the old place could do with a housekeeper.
Queen's Crawley? Could swallow a whole army of them.
Take Briggs.
She loves Rawdy.
As his mother don't.
I beg you.
Be a friend to them both.
Don't do anything foolish.
What's the meaning of this? Did some little rodent squeak? How dare you servants sit in my presence, on my sofa? - This here is Mrs Raggles' sofa.
- Get out.
Pay our wages and you won't see us for dust.
Mr Raggles, do you permit these insults to me, a poor defenceless woman? You lived five years in this house.
And paid just a third of the rent due to me.
Without that money, I am bankrupt.
And I trusted you because you are a Crawley.
Exactly.
So soon as the colonel comes home Why would he ever come home to such as you? We shall lose this house as well as the shop.
Mrs Crawley, my family has no roof over its head! Rawdon.
Rawdon! This is not a good idea! Does he mean to challenge you? To a duel.
He'll have to learn to shoot from a surprisingly long distance.
I have a plan for the dashing colonel.
Brother.
Dear brother, this is not the way.
My Lord Steyne gives notice that you may expect a communication laying out his terms.
Terms? I want satisfaction! Such as you are insects, sir, to be crushed beneath his Lordship's feet.
Does he know who we are? Sir Bute.
Rebecca.
A word? I have received Lord Steyne alone 100 times, it's true.
But I'm only guilty of too much devotedness to Rawdon's service.
Our family's service.
I looked for a peerage for you.
Oh, my God, reconcile us, dear brother.
Pity me.
And bring my cruel, cruel Rawdon home.
For I am innocent as the day is long.
Your soul is black with vanity.
You won't forget me, though, will you? It'll be so boring when I'm gone.
"Congratulations are due to Colonel Rawdon Crawley who, upon the recommendation of Lord Steyne, is appointed Governor-General of Coventry Island.
" A promotion? Coventry Island.
I don't know either.
Somewhere off the Ivory Coast, I think.
Africa? Hot, then.
And wet.
Mosquitoes the size of parrots.
Ah, the last Governor-General died within six months, I believe.
Don't go.
Rawdon, I beg you.
No wife.
No home.
No honour.
What else is there left? It's the end of the line.
Ahoy.
Major Dobbin? Miles away, as usual.
Did you try some of that chamomile tea? Glorvina, for sure, the best cure for melancholy in a gentleman is not chamomile tea.
Dobbin! Dobbin.
A letter from my mother.
You'll never guess.
What on earth? My sister, she is Dead? to be married! To the vicar.
Put that face away now.
If nothing else will ever truly make you happy, William, you must fly away home now and prevent that wedding.
Peggy O'Dowd.
Mother of all the regiment.
Your blessing means all the world.
"Louisa Grace Sedley.
Loving wife and mother.
" Not so loving towards the end.
She endured many trials, Father.
Which I caused.
And you bore, my patient dear.
Ah, Reverend Binney.
Good morning.
Good to see you.
- Good morning.
- Good morning.
- Shall we walk together? - Oh, pleasure.
Why all the rush? Five months' travelling and barely a lunch to restore our wits.
Let alone our poor suffering stomachs! Fine year for the rosehips, Mrs Osborne.
Yes, I shall make syrup for the harvest supper.
You know, I think it may be coming on to rain.
But we have our butterfly hunt! Mr Sedley, do you know these gentlemen? William? Jos! Oh, my dear boy! Major Dobbin.
Mr Sedley.
We'll leave you to your guests.
Yes.
Thank you.
My dear Amelia.
My darling brother.
Come on.
Let's get you inside.
You must be hungry.
Was I wrong to imagine I should be congratulating you on your engagement? Happily, I was saved further embarrassment by the arrival of that very charming new teacher.
But where is your lady wife? You were to marry Miss O'Dowd.
I'm known throughout India as a hopeless old bachelor.
The English summer! It's purest heaven to me.
Run.
So you see, none of my investments was unwise, not really.
- Look at this.
- Yes, there will be tea.
Georgie has grown so tall, you must go and visit him while you're in London! You still play it? The piano.
Of course.
The kindest man in the world.
To seek it out, return it to me, knowing how much it meant.
It was the greatest pleasure of my life, I assure you, Amelia.
What? No! No, that's I thought someone else.
Amelia.
Amelia, please! How could it not be me? I must seem very ungrateful, I do beg your pardon! I have loved you since the very first moment that I saw you.
Stop, I can't! That day in Vauxhall 13 years ago, since then, no hour in the day has passed - that I have not thought of you.
- Please, stop! I came to tell you before I left for India, but you didn't care, so I left.
But I'm here now! Now?! What use is now? You are too late! I prayed and prayed for a friend to come when they took away my little boy and it nearly killed me! That's when you should have come! - I am sorry.
- George is my husband! Here and in heaven.
And for ever.
I am sorry, too! I'm no fool, Major Dobbin.
I can read an accounts sheet, which is how I know that most of the fund which kept mother and child afloat came from you.
I could do no less when she was left without resources.
You still mean to make me feel guilty.
Not at all.
A father in his grief is not master of himself.
But, sir, you are a grandfather now.
And a fine life I give the boy.
And how much finer if it included a mother's love.
She took your son away from you, but she gave you hers in return.
And however much you loved your George, I can tell you, sir, she worships him still.
There are other women, man.
Welcome to my house, Mama.
Darling Georgie! It's rather a dark old place, isn't it? You and your mama can change all that now.
- Jane - I have half my father's fortune and an old school friend with a house on the Royal Crescent in Bath.
Bath! Oh So I may cross you off my list of things to worry about.
Most certainly.
Goodbye, Amelia.
Goodbye, Jane.
Tear down those dusty curtains, Amelia.
Employ some painters, and then go on holiday.
A holiday? Can Uncle Dob come? I must most extravagantly admire that musical gentleman's waistcoat.
That rug's rather pretty.
I can find you much better.
The lace is so fine and so white and half the price it is in London.
May I make a present of it for you? Oh, I have no use of white lace, William.
The Pumpernickel Assembly Rooms Uncle Dob, no! - The Pumpernickel Museum.
- Bleurgh.
Will there be suits of armour and thumbscrews? I have my hopes so.
Oh, bliss.
Whiskers galore! Oh, dear.
I shall accompany your brother to prevent further crimes against the mode.
Ah.
I don't think I'm on the right page.
What? You have never played, petit monsieur.
Never.
Play for me.
Bring me luck.
Choose a part, even or odds.
You are very much like your father.
How do you know about my father? What happened to your French accent? Madame gagne.
The lady wins.
You may take one kiss.
But shush! Just a little one.
Come away.
My apologies, madam.
Did you play? No.
Your word as a gentleman, you never will? Yes, sir.
- Come along, Sedley.
- I'll follow.
Goodbye, Dobbin.
I don't play to win.
I don't play at all.
No good at it.
I play to forget.
But it doesn't work.
I cannot forget old times.
Everyone else changes, everyone forgets.
No-one has any heart.
Oh, Miss Rebecca, don't be sad.
Are you not also wallowing in fond memories, Mr Joseph? Of a fairy-tale evening in Vauxhall, perhaps? I think perhaps a veil is better drawn over that night, Mrs Crawley.
It was one of the loveliest moments of my life.
Oh, the mistakes of our youth do haunt us! I imagine Pumpernickel is darn provincial compared to life in Boggly Wallah, Mr Joseph.
Boggly Wallah! I, madam, am magistrate of Bundlegunch.
Bundlegunch! How utterly marvellous.
This is really where you live? You have brought a little joy tonight to a life become sad and so lonely.
A little more bacon, Georgie? No, don't take it all! Morning.
Good heavens, Jos, I can smell your Cologne water from here! I may see you at luncheon.
Missed two meals running! Is he ill? Nein.
Verboten.
No idea, sorry.
Won't stay long.
Won't steal anything.
Just Mr Sedley.
Mrs Crawley.
I dare say you're sorry to find me in reduced circumstances.
Well But not, I hope, sorry to find me at all.
No, indeed.
Dear heavens.
To be reminded there was once such a thing in the world as an honest man! I say, that's me! Oh, that? Mr Joseph, that is one of my most treasured possessions.
Mrs Crawley, allow me.
She is a most injured and virtuous female in sore need of a friend! Promise me, Jos, you will not think of bringing that little minx here.
What little mix? Marooned in Pumpernickel without a friend in the world, Amy.
An honest woman always has friends.
The agonies Mrs Crawley has endured are quite frightful to hear.
Rebecca? Here? I can't see her.
Don't make me see her, William.
- There's your answer, Jos.
- She had a child.
The same age as Georgie.
An angel, apparently.
And he adored his mama, as she adored him.
And they tore the babe shrieking out of her arms.
- Oh, but that's - Awful.
Yes.
Oh, Amy, her tender heart is broken.
Amelia.
I mean, what exactly is she living on? I am astonished at your lack of charity.
She is my oldest friend! Miss Sharp was not always a good friend to you.
And she is a mother.
As I am.
I don't expect you to understand.
KÃnnen Sie mir helfen, bitte? Ich suche eine Dame.
Englander.
Get to the back of the queue.
God brought him back to me.
Have faith, dear Becky.
I live only for the moment when I too should be reunited with my darling son.
Show me his hair.
Is it blond or dark? What? You must have a lock of his precious hair.
In a locket, or Good morning! Lovely day, we were thinking a walk through the woods.
May I speak privately, Amelia? No, you may not.
Speak, sir, we are only two women and can be easily intimidated.
It is not a pleasure for me to perform this duty.
Pray, proceed quickly, then.
A woman who is separated from her husband, who lives in a hovel and frequents public gaming tables, - is not a fit companion for a lady.
- How dare you! Or for a ten-year-old child.
If the charge is unfaithfulness to my husband, I scorn it, I defy you or anybody else to prove it.
If the charge is that I am poor, forsaken, wretched, then, yes, I am guilty of those faults and punished for them every day.
If I have any authority here Authority? You have none! I choose my own friends.
Then, do you choose her or me? Rebecca, we are leaving.
Will you stay a moment and speak to me Amelia, please! Upon my honour, it is not about you.
This is your authority, William? I have no claim to authority, but I do have a claim to be heard.
That woman betrayed you on the night before the battle You insult my friend! And now you insult the blessed memory of my husband.
Your language is crude and violent.
It disgusts me.
- You don't mean that.
- Yes, I do.
Your conduct is unworthy, sir.
All these years, I have loved and watched you.
Now I wonder, did I always know that the prize I'd set my life on was not worth winning? Your heart clings so faithfully to a memory because that is all you are capable of.
Your soul is shallow.
You cannot feel a love as deep as mine.
As real as mine.
The truth is, you are not worthy.
You never were worthy of the lifetime of foolish love I have devoted to you.
Goodbye, Amelia.
Let it end.
We are both weary of it.
I'm sorry.
Uncle Dob! Uncle Dob! Don't go! Don't leave me! No! Uncle Dob! Becky? Becky! Becky.
So many eligible gentlemen here.
Not all good husband material, I grant you.
I have my brother.
Jos needs even more looking after than you do.
And my father.
Hopeless! And you can't hang on to Georgie forever, either.
He'll have to go to school, then what will you do? You must have a husband! Mrs Crawley.
Dear lady, I scarcely know what to say to you.
The Governor of Coventry Island, your poor husband has fallen victim to yellow fever.
Even though your married life was not, um Please accept my most sincere condolences.
Oh, your poor little boy.
"And so, Mother, upon the death of both my father and his brother, and in consequence of the unmarried situation of my female cousins, the estate now devolves upon me, Sir Rawdon Crawley Bart.
I write to appraise you of this unexpected state of affairs and to advise you that, as duty demands, I shall make you a small allowance.
I do not wish you to imagine this changes anything between us.
I do not wish to see you.
I do not wish you to write to me.
On no account should you ever attempt to make contact again.
I remain, madam, your obedient servant.
" Becky Sharp's son.
Lord of the Manor.
Can you really call yourself Lady Crawley now? I don't see why not.
As the mother of the baronet, I must count as some sort of dowager.
I'm not sure it works like that.
Die Post, bitte.
Oh, God, look at this.
Oh, Father, please, not another death, nobody's nerves can stand it.
"The Regiment embarks with Colonel and Mrs O'Dowd for Calcutta within the fortnight.
" So, Major Dobbin returns to India.
No doubt, ladies, we will all wish him luck there.
How did my sweet little daughter grow so stubborn and so proud? Amelia, do not say my husband is in heaven or I won't be responsible for my actions.
Amelia! Women must have husbands! And one of the best gentlemen I ever saw has offered to you 100 times and you have rejected him, you silly, heartless little creature! I tried to love him, I did try.
Dear heaven, Amelia, if I had had the chance of a man with a heart as big as his, and brains to match, I'd overlook his big feet! I was 100 times on the point of yielding.
But every time, the memory The memory of a selfish humbug, with neither wit nor manners nor heart.
George was not as he painted! A man who was weary of you, who would have jilted you, but Dobbin forced him to keep his word! Why would anybody do that? Heavens above, Amelia, because he loves you! Because he wants your happiness above his own! You always think you're so much wiser than me.
Because I am.
Because you need love in your life and I do not.
And because, although you'll soon be 30, you are still a child.
Whereas I I have been a woman since I was eight years old.
How do you think I learnt to be a survivor? George told me himself he never cared for you.
And the week after he married you, he chased after me.
You were there, Amelia, you saw.
You know his handwriting.
He gave that to me.
Wanted me to run away with him.
He gave it to me under your nose at the ball, the day before the battle.
The day before he was shot.
Which, by the way, served him right.
I don't need to read it.
I know you're right.
I've always known.
I was just too proud to ever admit that I could be such a fool.
If I can persuade you to marry the major, well, in my whole life, that is my one good deed done.
So let's go home, let's find pen and ink, let's write the major a letter to bring him back across the sea.
- I'll help.
I'm good at letters.
- Too late.
- It's never too late! - I wrote to him this morning.
You shameless, forward hussy, you're worse than me! Can you see anything? - Yes.
- What? No.
Too dark.
What if he doesn't come? Then it shall be no more than I deserve.
William.
Forgive me.
Dearest William, dearest friend of my heart, forgive me if ever you can.
There is nothing to forgive.
Georgie.
Brave soldier! Good shot, Georgie.
- Such a clever boy! - Briggs! Sorry, Rawdy.
I cannot help it.
I'm so proud.
He waited a very long time.
And won his heart's desire.
As did I.
My dear.
He never says a word to me that is not kind or gentle.
Nor thinks of a desire of mine without trying to gratify it.
But our daughter is the love of his life now.
None of us is ever happy in this world.
Except, of course, the major, content at last.
And he deserves it, doesn't he? But what of us? None of us ever gets what we want.
And when we do, it's not enough.
I have no other moral than this to tag to my story.
What's this? Nobody is supposed to be enjoying themselves! Nobody is supposed to come out well from my Vanity Fair! Becky, get back here! - It's going too fast! - What nonsense.
It's fun! - What if you fall off? - I've got nine lives.
What if I fall off?! We've got life insurance.
Two girls became women, and wives, till jealousy tore their friendship apart.
Read it.
I mean every word.
As Miss Sharp escaped her lowly start I've arrived.
so Miss Sedley sank to the depths of misery.
Till the day Becky flew too high.
Tonight, Becky is lost and then she is found but does she have a happy ending? Well, this is Vanity Fair.
A world where everyone is striving for what is not worth having.
Becky.
Becky.
Becky! Oh, that it should come to this.
To lose our shop to the bailiffs because my husband wouldn't stand up to her.
Men! I don't want more money.
I might as well have offered to pay off the national debt.
- I said I don't want money.
- What, then? What? Rawdon.
It is the boy.
Go to your room! Mother is the name for God in the minds of little children, and my boy worships a stone.
Or he did.
He got over it.
We both got over it.
There's 600 here.
Give it to Paul Briggs.
I should never have taken it off her.
Listen, Bute.
I think you'd agree that the old place could do with a housekeeper.
Queen's Crawley? Could swallow a whole army of them.
Take Briggs.
She loves Rawdy.
As his mother don't.
I beg you.
Be a friend to them both.
Don't do anything foolish.
What's the meaning of this? Did some little rodent squeak? How dare you servants sit in my presence, on my sofa? - This here is Mrs Raggles' sofa.
- Get out.
Pay our wages and you won't see us for dust.
Mr Raggles, do you permit these insults to me, a poor defenceless woman? You lived five years in this house.
And paid just a third of the rent due to me.
Without that money, I am bankrupt.
And I trusted you because you are a Crawley.
Exactly.
So soon as the colonel comes home Why would he ever come home to such as you? We shall lose this house as well as the shop.
Mrs Crawley, my family has no roof over its head! Rawdon.
Rawdon! This is not a good idea! Does he mean to challenge you? To a duel.
He'll have to learn to shoot from a surprisingly long distance.
I have a plan for the dashing colonel.
Brother.
Dear brother, this is not the way.
My Lord Steyne gives notice that you may expect a communication laying out his terms.
Terms? I want satisfaction! Such as you are insects, sir, to be crushed beneath his Lordship's feet.
Does he know who we are? Sir Bute.
Rebecca.
A word? I have received Lord Steyne alone 100 times, it's true.
But I'm only guilty of too much devotedness to Rawdon's service.
Our family's service.
I looked for a peerage for you.
Oh, my God, reconcile us, dear brother.
Pity me.
And bring my cruel, cruel Rawdon home.
For I am innocent as the day is long.
Your soul is black with vanity.
You won't forget me, though, will you? It'll be so boring when I'm gone.
"Congratulations are due to Colonel Rawdon Crawley who, upon the recommendation of Lord Steyne, is appointed Governor-General of Coventry Island.
" A promotion? Coventry Island.
I don't know either.
Somewhere off the Ivory Coast, I think.
Africa? Hot, then.
And wet.
Mosquitoes the size of parrots.
Ah, the last Governor-General died within six months, I believe.
Don't go.
Rawdon, I beg you.
No wife.
No home.
No honour.
What else is there left? It's the end of the line.
Ahoy.
Major Dobbin? Miles away, as usual.
Did you try some of that chamomile tea? Glorvina, for sure, the best cure for melancholy in a gentleman is not chamomile tea.
Dobbin! Dobbin.
A letter from my mother.
You'll never guess.
What on earth? My sister, she is Dead? to be married! To the vicar.
Put that face away now.
If nothing else will ever truly make you happy, William, you must fly away home now and prevent that wedding.
Peggy O'Dowd.
Mother of all the regiment.
Your blessing means all the world.
"Louisa Grace Sedley.
Loving wife and mother.
" Not so loving towards the end.
She endured many trials, Father.
Which I caused.
And you bore, my patient dear.
Ah, Reverend Binney.
Good morning.
Good to see you.
- Good morning.
- Good morning.
- Shall we walk together? - Oh, pleasure.
Why all the rush? Five months' travelling and barely a lunch to restore our wits.
Let alone our poor suffering stomachs! Fine year for the rosehips, Mrs Osborne.
Yes, I shall make syrup for the harvest supper.
You know, I think it may be coming on to rain.
But we have our butterfly hunt! Mr Sedley, do you know these gentlemen? William? Jos! Oh, my dear boy! Major Dobbin.
Mr Sedley.
We'll leave you to your guests.
Yes.
Thank you.
My dear Amelia.
My darling brother.
Come on.
Let's get you inside.
You must be hungry.
Was I wrong to imagine I should be congratulating you on your engagement? Happily, I was saved further embarrassment by the arrival of that very charming new teacher.
But where is your lady wife? You were to marry Miss O'Dowd.
I'm known throughout India as a hopeless old bachelor.
The English summer! It's purest heaven to me.
Run.
So you see, none of my investments was unwise, not really.
- Look at this.
- Yes, there will be tea.
Georgie has grown so tall, you must go and visit him while you're in London! You still play it? The piano.
Of course.
The kindest man in the world.
To seek it out, return it to me, knowing how much it meant.
It was the greatest pleasure of my life, I assure you, Amelia.
What? No! No, that's I thought someone else.
Amelia.
Amelia, please! How could it not be me? I must seem very ungrateful, I do beg your pardon! I have loved you since the very first moment that I saw you.
Stop, I can't! That day in Vauxhall 13 years ago, since then, no hour in the day has passed - that I have not thought of you.
- Please, stop! I came to tell you before I left for India, but you didn't care, so I left.
But I'm here now! Now?! What use is now? You are too late! I prayed and prayed for a friend to come when they took away my little boy and it nearly killed me! That's when you should have come! - I am sorry.
- George is my husband! Here and in heaven.
And for ever.
I am sorry, too! I'm no fool, Major Dobbin.
I can read an accounts sheet, which is how I know that most of the fund which kept mother and child afloat came from you.
I could do no less when she was left without resources.
You still mean to make me feel guilty.
Not at all.
A father in his grief is not master of himself.
But, sir, you are a grandfather now.
And a fine life I give the boy.
And how much finer if it included a mother's love.
She took your son away from you, but she gave you hers in return.
And however much you loved your George, I can tell you, sir, she worships him still.
There are other women, man.
Welcome to my house, Mama.
Darling Georgie! It's rather a dark old place, isn't it? You and your mama can change all that now.
- Jane - I have half my father's fortune and an old school friend with a house on the Royal Crescent in Bath.
Bath! Oh So I may cross you off my list of things to worry about.
Most certainly.
Goodbye, Amelia.
Goodbye, Jane.
Tear down those dusty curtains, Amelia.
Employ some painters, and then go on holiday.
A holiday? Can Uncle Dob come? I must most extravagantly admire that musical gentleman's waistcoat.
That rug's rather pretty.
I can find you much better.
The lace is so fine and so white and half the price it is in London.
May I make a present of it for you? Oh, I have no use of white lace, William.
The Pumpernickel Assembly Rooms Uncle Dob, no! - The Pumpernickel Museum.
- Bleurgh.
Will there be suits of armour and thumbscrews? I have my hopes so.
Oh, bliss.
Whiskers galore! Oh, dear.
I shall accompany your brother to prevent further crimes against the mode.
Ah.
I don't think I'm on the right page.
What? You have never played, petit monsieur.
Never.
Play for me.
Bring me luck.
Choose a part, even or odds.
You are very much like your father.
How do you know about my father? What happened to your French accent? Madame gagne.
The lady wins.
You may take one kiss.
But shush! Just a little one.
Come away.
My apologies, madam.
Did you play? No.
Your word as a gentleman, you never will? Yes, sir.
- Come along, Sedley.
- I'll follow.
Goodbye, Dobbin.
I don't play to win.
I don't play at all.
No good at it.
I play to forget.
But it doesn't work.
I cannot forget old times.
Everyone else changes, everyone forgets.
No-one has any heart.
Oh, Miss Rebecca, don't be sad.
Are you not also wallowing in fond memories, Mr Joseph? Of a fairy-tale evening in Vauxhall, perhaps? I think perhaps a veil is better drawn over that night, Mrs Crawley.
It was one of the loveliest moments of my life.
Oh, the mistakes of our youth do haunt us! I imagine Pumpernickel is darn provincial compared to life in Boggly Wallah, Mr Joseph.
Boggly Wallah! I, madam, am magistrate of Bundlegunch.
Bundlegunch! How utterly marvellous.
This is really where you live? You have brought a little joy tonight to a life become sad and so lonely.
A little more bacon, Georgie? No, don't take it all! Morning.
Good heavens, Jos, I can smell your Cologne water from here! I may see you at luncheon.
Missed two meals running! Is he ill? Nein.
Verboten.
No idea, sorry.
Won't stay long.
Won't steal anything.
Just Mr Sedley.
Mrs Crawley.
I dare say you're sorry to find me in reduced circumstances.
Well But not, I hope, sorry to find me at all.
No, indeed.
Dear heavens.
To be reminded there was once such a thing in the world as an honest man! I say, that's me! Oh, that? Mr Joseph, that is one of my most treasured possessions.
Mrs Crawley, allow me.
She is a most injured and virtuous female in sore need of a friend! Promise me, Jos, you will not think of bringing that little minx here.
What little mix? Marooned in Pumpernickel without a friend in the world, Amy.
An honest woman always has friends.
The agonies Mrs Crawley has endured are quite frightful to hear.
Rebecca? Here? I can't see her.
Don't make me see her, William.
- There's your answer, Jos.
- She had a child.
The same age as Georgie.
An angel, apparently.
And he adored his mama, as she adored him.
And they tore the babe shrieking out of her arms.
- Oh, but that's - Awful.
Yes.
Oh, Amy, her tender heart is broken.
Amelia.
I mean, what exactly is she living on? I am astonished at your lack of charity.
She is my oldest friend! Miss Sharp was not always a good friend to you.
And she is a mother.
As I am.
I don't expect you to understand.
KÃnnen Sie mir helfen, bitte? Ich suche eine Dame.
Englander.
Get to the back of the queue.
God brought him back to me.
Have faith, dear Becky.
I live only for the moment when I too should be reunited with my darling son.
Show me his hair.
Is it blond or dark? What? You must have a lock of his precious hair.
In a locket, or Good morning! Lovely day, we were thinking a walk through the woods.
May I speak privately, Amelia? No, you may not.
Speak, sir, we are only two women and can be easily intimidated.
It is not a pleasure for me to perform this duty.
Pray, proceed quickly, then.
A woman who is separated from her husband, who lives in a hovel and frequents public gaming tables, - is not a fit companion for a lady.
- How dare you! Or for a ten-year-old child.
If the charge is unfaithfulness to my husband, I scorn it, I defy you or anybody else to prove it.
If the charge is that I am poor, forsaken, wretched, then, yes, I am guilty of those faults and punished for them every day.
If I have any authority here Authority? You have none! I choose my own friends.
Then, do you choose her or me? Rebecca, we are leaving.
Will you stay a moment and speak to me Amelia, please! Upon my honour, it is not about you.
This is your authority, William? I have no claim to authority, but I do have a claim to be heard.
That woman betrayed you on the night before the battle You insult my friend! And now you insult the blessed memory of my husband.
Your language is crude and violent.
It disgusts me.
- You don't mean that.
- Yes, I do.
Your conduct is unworthy, sir.
All these years, I have loved and watched you.
Now I wonder, did I always know that the prize I'd set my life on was not worth winning? Your heart clings so faithfully to a memory because that is all you are capable of.
Your soul is shallow.
You cannot feel a love as deep as mine.
As real as mine.
The truth is, you are not worthy.
You never were worthy of the lifetime of foolish love I have devoted to you.
Goodbye, Amelia.
Let it end.
We are both weary of it.
I'm sorry.
Uncle Dob! Uncle Dob! Don't go! Don't leave me! No! Uncle Dob! Becky? Becky! Becky.
So many eligible gentlemen here.
Not all good husband material, I grant you.
I have my brother.
Jos needs even more looking after than you do.
And my father.
Hopeless! And you can't hang on to Georgie forever, either.
He'll have to go to school, then what will you do? You must have a husband! Mrs Crawley.
Dear lady, I scarcely know what to say to you.
The Governor of Coventry Island, your poor husband has fallen victim to yellow fever.
Even though your married life was not, um Please accept my most sincere condolences.
Oh, your poor little boy.
"And so, Mother, upon the death of both my father and his brother, and in consequence of the unmarried situation of my female cousins, the estate now devolves upon me, Sir Rawdon Crawley Bart.
I write to appraise you of this unexpected state of affairs and to advise you that, as duty demands, I shall make you a small allowance.
I do not wish you to imagine this changes anything between us.
I do not wish to see you.
I do not wish you to write to me.
On no account should you ever attempt to make contact again.
I remain, madam, your obedient servant.
" Becky Sharp's son.
Lord of the Manor.
Can you really call yourself Lady Crawley now? I don't see why not.
As the mother of the baronet, I must count as some sort of dowager.
I'm not sure it works like that.
Die Post, bitte.
Oh, God, look at this.
Oh, Father, please, not another death, nobody's nerves can stand it.
"The Regiment embarks with Colonel and Mrs O'Dowd for Calcutta within the fortnight.
" So, Major Dobbin returns to India.
No doubt, ladies, we will all wish him luck there.
How did my sweet little daughter grow so stubborn and so proud? Amelia, do not say my husband is in heaven or I won't be responsible for my actions.
Amelia! Women must have husbands! And one of the best gentlemen I ever saw has offered to you 100 times and you have rejected him, you silly, heartless little creature! I tried to love him, I did try.
Dear heaven, Amelia, if I had had the chance of a man with a heart as big as his, and brains to match, I'd overlook his big feet! I was 100 times on the point of yielding.
But every time, the memory The memory of a selfish humbug, with neither wit nor manners nor heart.
George was not as he painted! A man who was weary of you, who would have jilted you, but Dobbin forced him to keep his word! Why would anybody do that? Heavens above, Amelia, because he loves you! Because he wants your happiness above his own! You always think you're so much wiser than me.
Because I am.
Because you need love in your life and I do not.
And because, although you'll soon be 30, you are still a child.
Whereas I I have been a woman since I was eight years old.
How do you think I learnt to be a survivor? George told me himself he never cared for you.
And the week after he married you, he chased after me.
You were there, Amelia, you saw.
You know his handwriting.
He gave that to me.
Wanted me to run away with him.
He gave it to me under your nose at the ball, the day before the battle.
The day before he was shot.
Which, by the way, served him right.
I don't need to read it.
I know you're right.
I've always known.
I was just too proud to ever admit that I could be such a fool.
If I can persuade you to marry the major, well, in my whole life, that is my one good deed done.
So let's go home, let's find pen and ink, let's write the major a letter to bring him back across the sea.
- I'll help.
I'm good at letters.
- Too late.
- It's never too late! - I wrote to him this morning.
You shameless, forward hussy, you're worse than me! Can you see anything? - Yes.
- What? No.
Too dark.
What if he doesn't come? Then it shall be no more than I deserve.
William.
Forgive me.
Dearest William, dearest friend of my heart, forgive me if ever you can.
There is nothing to forgive.
Georgie.
Brave soldier! Good shot, Georgie.
- Such a clever boy! - Briggs! Sorry, Rawdy.
I cannot help it.
I'm so proud.
He waited a very long time.
And won his heart's desire.
As did I.
My dear.
He never says a word to me that is not kind or gentle.
Nor thinks of a desire of mine without trying to gratify it.
But our daughter is the love of his life now.
None of us is ever happy in this world.
Except, of course, the major, content at last.
And he deserves it, doesn't he? But what of us? None of us ever gets what we want.
And when we do, it's not enough.
I have no other moral than this to tag to my story.
What's this? Nobody is supposed to be enjoying themselves! Nobody is supposed to come out well from my Vanity Fair! Becky, get back here! - It's going too fast! - What nonsense.
It's fun! - What if you fall off? - I've got nine lives.
What if I fall off?! We've got life insurance.