Little Dorrit (2008) s01e08 Episode Script

My dear soul, pity me.
Henry, he's to marry the Miggles' girl.
The father will give them an allowance - which, in Italy, will Oh! Going to Italy? Henry's to study that dreadful art.
They love him.
They think he's a saint.
I don't know why.
They think it's Pancks grinding their faces in the dust, but it's Pa all the time.
I can't collect what they haven't got, Mr Casby.
There are secrets in all families, I suppose.
Yes, there are! There are the devil's own secrets in some families.
Yes! The Father of the Marshalsea, Little Dorrit's pa! He is heir at law to a great estate, sir, that is long untouched, unclaimed and accumulating! Oh, Father! I must leave the Marshalsea looking like a gentleman, a gentleman of consequence.
The lining is of the finest Persian silk, the finest that money can buy? Indeed it is, sir.
Wait till you see what Fanny's wearing.
She has got herself a very fine dress from Mrs Merdle's dressmaker.
And why should she not? For the Dorrits are a very distinguished family indeed and, if we are to take our rightful place in society Amy, you're still in your shabby old gown.
Would you disgrace your father? No, Father, but it seems I brook no buts, Amy! Change into your new dress.
The days of shabbiness and shame are behind us.
Oh, yes, reminds me - I must write to Mr Clennam.
Well, I'll have my lawyers write to him, politely reminding him that we have no further need of his services.
Father, Mr Clennam is here.
Oh.
So much the better.
Mr Clennam? Good morning, sir.
I believe I'm indebted to you in the sum of 24 pounds, nine shillings and eight pence.
Not at all.
You dispute that amount? Oh, you owe me nothing.
Mr Dorrit, what I gave I gave in friendship.
And that's all in the past.
Now Mr Clennam.
I prefer to be on a proper business footing.
You will be repaid, and you will oblige me by furnishing a receipt stating clearly that you make no further claims upon me.
Father, Mr Clennam makes no claims upon us.
He is our friend.
I prefer it so.
Quite right, Pa.
Can't be too careful with some of these fellas.
Mr Clennam? Well, as you wish.
I want no-one, no-one to be able to say that William Dorrit does not fulfil his pecuniary obligations in full and to the last halfpenny.
I understand.
That being so, I have much to attend to, unless you have some other urgent matter? No, no urgent matter.
I simply came to wish you well.
Then I thank you and bid you good day.
Of course.
I beg your pardon, Mr Dorrit.
Good day.
We shall not forget your kindness, I hope one day, before too long Thank you, Frederick.
I'm sure I'll see you all again very soon.
Father, how can you be so uncivil to Mr Clennam, who's been such a good friend to us? Amy, I command you to stay here! Will you defy me? No, Father.
But it is very hard.
Come here, my child.
We're going into a new world, and this place and all connected with it will soon be forgotten and as if they never were.
Amy? Amy! Amy? Good gracious! Where's Amy? How should I know? Mind your backs! Mind your backs! Mind your backs! Oh, him again.
I might have known it.
She's showing us up like this.
Here.
She must have fainted in her room.
Oh, still in her old shabby dress! Take care of her.
Thank you, sir.
I believe I know what to do.
I'm so vexed and ashamed! Oh, why are they not driving on? She will have left by now.
I wonder where she will go and whether her riches will bring her happiness.
No concern of ours now.
Better that she's gone.
She never should have come here.
I shall miss her, Flintwinch.
Monsieur Blandois.
Monsieur Rigaud at one time, I think.
Mademoiselle remembers well.
There is a man named Gowan travelling in Italy with his new bride.
I want you to watch him and report back to me.
And you wish some harm to come to him? I do, but not yet.
Befriend him, if you wish.
He can be charming company.
His young wife is charming also and very pretty.
You are in luck, Mademoiselle.
I have been conducting some reconnaissance here of my own, but I am in no rush and a trip to Italy would amuse me.
Good.
You may draw upon my account with Mr Casby of Grays Inn Road, where you will also find an envelope containing your directions.
Monsieur Casby - an excellent man of business and such a lover of his fellow man.
I think that concludes our business.
I shall await your reports.
And you shall have them, by God.
Now, Mr Dorrit.
You have two daughters, I understand, and wish them to be introduced into society? Yes.
But first, as they've led rather sheltered lives You wish them to be schooled a little, to be chaperoned, to be, as it were, finished.
Exactly.
So what would you recommend? Foreign travel, Mr Dorrit.
Educative in itself, and useful in that any little infelicities of speech or manner can be corrected well away from English eyes.
I particularly recommend Italy - the Italian Alps, Venice, Florence and Rome.
I see.
And you would be, erm Happy to accompany you all.
Ah, now, as to remuneration Please, Mr Dorrit! I am not, as I hope you are aware, a governess! Oh, dear.
Pray do not imagine for one moment that I think so.
I cannot therefore put a price upon services which it is a pleasure to me to render.
Of course not.
Please, Mr Dorrit.
indelicate and distasteful to me.
I hope we may never have to speak of it again! But, erm The gentleman who was good enough to recommend you to me thought that, um, 300 a year? Oh, please, Mr Dorrit! Let us not speak of it! But, er, as our mutual friend whom you mentioned had only one daughter and you have two, it would only seem correct and equitable to add a third more to whatever it was.
I could only accept, of course, on terms of complete equality - as a companion, protector, mentor and friend.
Mrs General, that is exactly as I would wish it.
So you suggest we begin with, erm? A Grand Tour, Mr Dorrit! The St Bernard Pass is the most ancient pass through the Western Alps, used as far back as the Bronze Age.
This is a disgrace! Grand Tour? I don't see anything grand about it! I am battered and bruised all over and starving to death besides! Why couldn't we have brought the coaches, Pa? St Bernard Pass must be seen! Many have remarked upon its chilly splendour.
Chilly Splendour! Mr Murray in his book That's all very well if we could see it from here.
I don't care about Mr Murray.
But we can't! Damn me! I can't take much more of this.
Is it much further to the hospice? The monk said half an hour, William.
You're very quiet, Amy.
Are you all right? Amy, speak up! I am well.
Why's everyone always fussing about Amy? What about me? The hospice named after Saint Bernard of Montagne is run by Augustinian monks.
Ah, good evening! We overtook you on ze pass, I think.
My new found friends and travelling companion, Monsieur et Madame Gowan.
Our name is, er, Dorrit, sir, and this lady is Mrs General.
D Dorrit? Dorrit, you say? Enchante.
How fortunate that our paths should cross.
Do we know you, sir? No, no, no, but we must get to know each other.
We English travellers must stick together in these foreign inhospitable climes.
Allow me to recommend you, my dears, that you shade your faces from the hot fire after exposure to the mountain air and snow.
I'm perfectly all right as I am.
These fellows are an immense time with supper.
I wonder what they'll give us? Not roast man, I trust.
What d'you mean by that, sir? I mean that, if you're not to be served for the general supper, perhaps you'll do us the favour of not cooking yourself at the general fire.
I say, now look here Pet.
Pet? Pray, let me put this water to her lips.
Thank you.
What happened? You fainted, my dear.
The heat of the fire, I expect.
I think I'd better take her upstairs.
May I help you, sir? No, thank you, I can manage.
Miss Amy Dorrit, and may she enjoy her fortune! Hear, hear! Couldn't have happened to a kinder young woman! Let's hope she's enjoying herself, wherever she is.
Oh, come on, Maggy.
Cheer up! Why did she have to go away? She'll be back one day soon, and she left us enough money to provide for you and for us all - enough for us to set up a shop, Maggy, and she says you shall work in it too if you like, in a smart white apron.
Should you like that, Maggy? I should like it better if Amy could see me in it.
Come on, have a bit of cake and let's see a smile.
That's what she'd like to see.
Nothing will be the same without her.
Will it, mister? Mr Casby! Oh, Mr Casby! Get a chair for Mr Casby.
Quickly! Oh, that's quite all right, Mrs Plornish.
That's quite all right.
I was just doing my rounds and I wanted to offer my congratulations.
Your own little shop here in Bleeding Heart Yard! Will you share a glass with us? Oh, very kind, very kind.
A small glass, perhaps.
Just a very small glass.
To wish you good fortune in your new enterprise.
To us! Here here! To Happy Cottage.
Goodbye, Mr Casby.
Make sure to come and visit our shop soon! I will, of course, Mrs Plornish.
We need to squeeze them harder now, Pancks.
A shop indeed! They have to pay more rent, more rent for a shop.
Double the rent, Pancks, and squeeze them hard! Amen.
How is your wife, sir? What? Oh, she's, erm She's sleeping.
Tell me, Father, do you Has she taken any nourishment, sir? A little, yes, yes.
It must be a very dreary life here in the winter, Father.
The cold is very severe and the air becomes difficult to breathe.
But the confinement, the lack of space - so small, so very limited, and always the same, day after day.
But we who have chosen it see it very differently.
Monsieur is not used to confinement.
True.
Monsieur could not realise how the mind accommodates itself to such things when it is necessary.
I suppose so.
We will say no more.
Excuse me.
Now where's she off to? Don't be alarmed.
I came to see if you were better and if I could do anything for you.
I was dreaming I was at home - my old home, I mean, before I was married.
Now you are far away from it.
Yes.
I have been far away from home before, but then I had my parents with me, so I never missed it.
But you have your husband now.
Yes.
I think I think I am not quite used to being married yet.
I think your husband cares very much for you.
Yes, he loves me and I am happy.
But marriage is so different.
I never thought about what it would really be like.
The other gentleman - is he a friend of yours? Oh, no.
He attached himself to us in Paris.
I don't like him, but he amuses Henry.
It's a curious chance that brings us together at last.
Why do you say that? I have been looking out for you.
We have a mutual friend.
I have a little note here from him, which I was to give to you if ever I found you.
Shush, Lion! Down! It says the dear young friend who brings this note may be a comfort to me at some time.
He is right.
You've been a comfort to me already.
Did he ever speak of me? Perhaps he never told you my story? No.
We were not always rich, you see.
We used to be very poor and Mr Clennam was kind to us and helped us.
But now my father wants us to forget Mr Clennam and everyone who knew us in the days of our disgrace.
You had better take this back and hide it and then my husband will be sure not to see it.
If he did, he might speak of it, by accident.
I'll see you in the morning.
Good night.
Allow me to escort you down, Mademoiselle.
Thank you.
I'm quite all right.
Please.
Take my arm, I insist.
Take it.
I found a little bird lost in the dark and hereby return her to you, Monsieur.
I thank you, sir.
I had better attend to that wife of mine.
Good night, Miss Dorrit, gentlemen.
Your friend, sir, is a little impatient.
You find him so, do you? In the matter of the fire, sir, he need not have expressed himself as he did to my son, who is by birth and education a gentleman.
My friend is sometimes of sarcastic temper.
He is an artist.
Beside that, his family is very highly connected.
Do you imply, sir? I make no aspersions upon your family.
One can tell at a glance that you are all from ze top drawer! I thank you, sir.
And now I think it must be time to retire.
We leave very early in the morning.
I drink to your health and that of your distinguished family! Very kind, sir, but you must excuse us now.
Gaie, gaie, toujours gaie! Amy, stop fussing about with the servants! Now what the devil do you mean by showing us all up last night? Why? What did I do? Rushing around with a tumbler of water for Mrs Gowan, running upstairs to nurse her - in short, behaving like a servant, instead of the lady you're supposed to be.
I was mortified, Amy! And all of this for the wife of a man who had just insulted me! If it was worth my while, I'd pull his nose for him.
Well, there's more to it than that.
She knew or knew of this Mrs Gowan before yesterday.
It doesn't take much to divine whose friend Mrs Gowan is.
She's Mr Clennam's friend, isn't she? Is this the case? Yes, Father.
Amy, you have a great position to support.
It is incumbent upon you, it is incumbent upon all of us to make ourselves respected.
As to Mr Clennam Who also saw fit to insult me with his ungentlemanly conduct.
And was always pushing himself in where he wasn't wanted.
Mr Clennam always behaved very well to all of us.
You know he did.
Oh, don't talk nonsense, Amy! You are partly correct, Amy.
I don't altogether share Fanny and Edward's low opinion of Mr Clennam.
But, in view of our unfortunate prior association, it is imperative that we now have nothing whatsoever to do with him.
Is that understood? Is that understood, Amy? Yes, Father.
See you soon, my little nightingale.
The old man with the daughters is in Venice.
I saw them all this afternoon.
Lion is dead.
He poisoned him.
I'm sure of it.
Business calls.
I have had intelligence today that calls me back to London.
I believe you have something to hide, madam.