The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby

(BELLS JINGLE)

Good morning, Mr Noggs.

Mournful one for old Nickleby.

Only fourpence, though.

That will please him.

Thank you.

Good morning.

(RINGING BELL)

(KNOCKS ON DOOR)

Ah. So our friend Mr Bray doesn't relish

the thought of debtor's prison.

I thought he'd send the money somehow.

He hasn't.

Hmm. I know something of that hand.

My brother's dead,

and the window and both children are in London,

confound them!

Anything else you want? Not now.

I must go out.

Reasonable. Very reasonable.

Never did anything for me, and I never expected it,

but the breath is no sooner out of his body,

then the family looks here for support.

What are they to me?

I never saw them.

That will cost you a pretty penny.

I can't keep them.

They must find something.

If they won't do it for themselves,

I shall.

(BELLS JINGLE)

Is Mrs Nickleby at home, girl?

Hannah!

Who is wanted?

Are you Miss La what's her name?

Creevy, La Creevy.

A miniature, I presume,

and a very strongly marked countenance for the purpose.

I have no money to throw away on miniatures, ma'am,

and no-one to give them to if I had.

I came to see my sister-in-law Mrs Nickleby.

Oh. Then you want the second floor.

Hannah, show the gentleman up.

What name?

Nickleby.

Mrs Nickleby, here's Mr Nickleby.

Uncle Ralph.

Good morning, sir.

Nicholas, I suppose.

And how do you do, ma'am?

Ah. You must bear up against sorrow, ma'am.

I always do.

Mine was no common loss.

'Twas no uncommon loss, ma'am.

Husbands die everyday and wives, also.

And brothers, too, sir.

Yes, sir, and puppies and pug dogs likewise.

(CRYING)

When my wife died, ma'am, many years ago,

I learned to survive the calamity.

Doubtless, you will do the same.

Well, ma'am, you say in your letter there's nothing left, hmm?

And you spent what little you had

in coming all the way to London to see what I can do for you.

I'd hoped you might do something

for your brother's children.

It was his last wish.

I don't know how it is,

but whenever a man dies without property,

he seems to think it gives him the right

to dispose of other people's.

And this is Kate.

What sort of work is your daughter fitted for?

She was the cleverest girl in a school of 25.

Or was it 55? Well, anyway, I...

we must try and get you apprenticed.

And you, have you ever done anything?

No, sir.

I suppose you are willing to work.

Of course I am.

Then listen. This caught my eye this morning.

You may thank your lucky stars.

"Education at Mr Wackford Squeers' Academy,

Dotheboys Hall," and so on and so on and so on.

"NB: an able assistant wanted.

"Annual salary £15.

A master of arts would be preferred."

There. Let him get that, and his fortune's made.

If he doesn't like it, let him get something for himself.

But he's not an NB,

MA, Master of Arts.

That, I think, can be got over.

But it's so far away, Mama.

Shh, Kate.

Nicholas, I wish you would say something.

If I'm fortunate to be appointed, sir,

what will become of my mother, my sister?

In that case but not otherwise,

they will be provided for by me.

Then I'll do anything you wish.

I'm very pleased to hear it.

We'll visit Mr Squeers tomorrow.

He's in town and attends daily from 1:00 till 4:00

at the Saracen's Head...

Every wholesome luxury, Mr Snawley,

that Yorkshire can afford.

Every comfort of an home that a boy could wish for.

A father in me and mother in Mrs Squeers.

Could I have a few words with you?

By all means.

Up to what age will you keep the boys?

Just as long as the quarterly payments are kept up.

What are they, natural children?

We have a good many of them. No. They ain't.

The fact is, I'm not the father, Mr Squeers.

I'm only the father-in-law, as you might say.

I married the mother. Oh, is that it?

£20 per annum, I believe, Mr Squeers.

Guineas, Mr Snawley.

Pounds for two, I think, Mr Squeers.

Very well. Payment in advance of course.

Uh, they ain't great eaters.

Mr Squeers?

Why, it's Mr... Yes, sir.

Won't you be seated?

Good day, Mr Snawley.

Ralph Nickleby's my name.

You've advertised for an able assistant.

Here is my nephew Nicholas, straight from school

with everything he learnt there fermenting in his head

and nothing fermenting in his pocket.

Hmm. I'm afraid, sir, I'm not master of arts.

Well, that is an objection.

Here. Let me put this matter in its true light.

A young man, wholly ignorant of the world.

Look at him. Think of the use he can be

in half a dozen ways.

Your uncle's recommendation has done it, Mr Nickleby.

From this moment you are nominated to and installed

in the office of first assistant master of Dotheboys Hall.

Thank you, Mr Squeers, very much indeed, sir.

And thank you, uncle, for getting me this opportunity.

I shan't forget your kindness.

You better go home and pack up,

what you have to pack.

The coach starts at 8:00 tomorrow morning.

Be here the quarter before.

(CRYING)

Now, now, my little man.

There's nothing to cry for.

(CRIES)

Ow! Ohh!

(CRIES)

MAN: all baggage ready for the York coach, please.

All baggage ready, please.

Your milk and water, sir.

Twopenn'orth?

Here's richness.

When I say, "number one,"

the boy nearest the window may take a drink.

MRS NICKLEBY: And she never saw her son again,

never in all her life.

I was just saying to Kate...

No. I won't listen to myself.

Just you make yourself useful to this Mr Squires,

as I know you will,

and you'll rise to be a partner

in the establishment in no time at all.

Come on, come on, come on,

hold that noise, boy! I want more breakfast.

I'll give you more breakfast!

Anybody else want more?

No, sir.

That's right. Subdue your appetites, my dears,

and you've conquered human nature.

Oh, there you are.

Get them boys on top of the coach, will you?

That can't be the schoolmaster surely.

He does seem an odd-looking man.

So was Dr Johnson. All these bookworms are.

Well, I never expected...

I expected to find you here, ma'am.

A house of mine in town is empty.

I can put you in there rent-free till it's let.

Of all the kindness!

Do you hear that, Kate?

A house, and in town, too.

That would be near you, I suppose.

East end.

Oh. Oh, well, all the same.

After all, it's somewhere to live.

My clerk Noggs will take you down there

as soon as the coach is gone.

Oh, thank you.

Good morning. Most delightful of you.

Furthermore, I've found a situation for Kate

with a milliner and dressmaker.

Milliner?

And dressmaker, ma'am.

Mantalini's, a very well-known house.

The York coach is leaving now.

Hurry up there.

Goodbye, uncle. Goodbye, Nicholas.

I trust you'll take care of them.

Goodbye, mother.

Kate, you'll write to me?

Bless you, love. Goodbye.

(BELL TOLLING)

That's right, Nickleby. You get up on top.

I'm afraid of one of them boys falling off,

and that's £20 gone.

All right behind it?

All right. Let her go!

(FANFARE)

Goodbye. Goodbye.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

SQUEERS: Hello, there!

(HORSE SNORTS)

Here we are!

NICHOLAS: Dotheboys Hall, sir?

That's it. You needn't call it a hall down here.

The fact is, it ain't one.

Where the devil have you been, Smike?

Please, sir. I fell asleep over the fire.

Fire? What fire? Where's the fire?

Only in the kitchen, sir.

Missus said as I was sitting up,

I might go in for a warm.

Missus is a fool.

We feel more wakeful in the cold.

See to the pony, then the boxes, then the boys.

Hurry up, Nickleby. This wind's fit to blow you down.

(WIND HOWLING)

It's cold enough up here,

yet the boys is always getting fevers.

Obstinacy, that's what it is.

WOMAN: Is that my Squeery?

There you are, my love.

And how's my Squeery?

Quite well, me love.

And how are the pigs and the cows?

All right, every one of them.

That's a blessing.

Boys are bobbish, I suppose.

Oh, they're well enough.

The new young man, my dear.

Good evening.

Hmm.

Better give him a shakedown for tonight.

Phoebe! Phoebe!

Nickleby, come in here and take your things off.

Phoebe!

Cubby, Duncans.

Ha! What they want writing letters to them boys,

I don't know, when they can't read.

What do you want? Have you...

has nothing been heard about me, sir?

Devil a bit. Not a word and never will be.

A pretty thing. Left here all these years

and nothing paid after the first 6.

MRS SQUEERS: in here with them.

We'll put you in your regular bedroom tomorrow.

Let me see. Who sleeps in Brooks' bed, me dear?

Brooks'? There's Jennings,

little bolder, Graymarsh,

and what's his name.

So there is.

Yes. Brooks is full.

There's a place somewhere, I know.

I think that Smike's turning silly.

I hope not. He's a handy fella for rough work.

That will do, Phoebe.

Remember, Nickleby, 7:00 in the morning.

I shall be ready, sir.

The pump's in the yard.

You'll find a bit of soap in the kitchen window.

Blow that light out as soon as you can now.

Candles cost money.

Don't like the look of him,

nasty, stuck-up monkey.

Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!

(KNOCK ON DOOR) Come in.

Thank you.

(BELLS RINGING)

Ah. You've had your breakfast.

I've had some porridge, sir.

(BELCHES)

Then you're ready for work.

I wasn't able to wash.

Of course you wasn't. The pump's froze.

Never mind. A dry polish is almost as good.

Dreadful things.

It's brimstone morning, and I can't find

the school spoon anywhere.

We purify the boys' blood now and then.

Purify, fiddlesticks.

We don't buy brimstone and treacle for that.

They have it part because it keeps them from ailing

and part because it spoils their appetites.

It comes cheaper than breakfast and dinner.

Here's the blessed thing.

He were sleeping on it.

A most invaluable woman, that.

More than a mother to them boys.

(WHIP)

10 times more.

She does things for them boys

that half the mothers going

wouldn't do for their own sons.

I can well imagine that, sir.

We had a boy died here early last winter,

young Dorker.

Mrs Squeers was as partial to that lad

as he'd been her own.

The attention that boy got in his illness,

the motherly love what was showered on him.

Dry toast and warm tea

offered him every night and morning

when he couldn't swallow anything.

That's my son, that is.

Little Wackford.

The image of his mother and me

and a bit more beside.

Yes. That boy Dorker had a candle in his bed

till the very night he died

and the best dictionary set up to lay his head on.

This is our shop, Nickleby.

MRS SQUEERS: No, you don't.

All at once, or I'll have the hide of you.

Next boy, come on.

Please, ma'am. That boy's got my clothes on.

That will do! You shut up

and mind your own business!

Now then. Is that physicking over?

Just over.

Wackford, you can do that later.

Bring the basin and come with your mother.

Hurry up. Places.

And stop that snivelling,

or I'll give you something to snivel for.

Well, boys, I've paid my half-yearly visit to London,

and you'll be glad to see I've come back

as strong and as vigorous as ever.

Hip, hip.

(Mumbling) Hooray.

That will do. First class.

English and philosophy.

Brooks, spell window.

W-I...

W-I-N, win, D-E-R, der, winder.

Casement.

Go out and clean them.

We go on the practical mode of teaching.

When a boy learns his subject,

he goes out and does it.

Graymarsh, spell botany.

GRAYMARSH: B-O...

B-O-T, bot,

T-I-N, bottin,

N-E-Y, bottiney,

noun substantive, knowledge of plants.

Out you go, and take the snow off the garden paths.

You, what's your name, what's an horse?

It's a...a beast, sir.

So it is. An horse is quadruped,

and quadruped's Latin for beast.

See that you're perfect in that.

Go and look after my horse

and rub him down well, or I'll rub you down!

It's washing day tomorrow,

and I want the coppers filled.

The rest of the class, go and draw water

until somebody tells you to leave off.

Now that's our system, Nickleby.

What do you think of it?

It's a very useful one at any rate.

You're right there.

Now just take the second class

and explain them some reading.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

"The Pilgrim's Progress."

"As I walked through the wilderness of this world,

"I lighted on certain place where was a den,

"and I laid me down in that place to sleep,

and as I slept, I dreamed a dream."

Demmit! What, Nickleby!

Of course, Demmit, I remember.

Your niece.

Follow me, my dear,

will you?

They all follow me,

always did, Demmit, always!

WOMAN: Mr Nickleby.

Good morning.

This is my niece, ma'am.

I spoke to you about a vacancy for her.

You remember? Just so.

What work can you do, child?

I can turn a hem, ma'am, or sew a seam.

And that is all?

She can learn. Oh, quite,

and I can do with another pair of hands.

We keep 20 young women constantly employed here.

Yes, and some of them demned handsome, too.

Mantalini, do you want to break my heart?

My senses' idol!

Not for 20,000 hemispheres

populated with little, uh, ballet dancers.

Alfred.

Ahem.

The hours are from 9:00 to 9:00.

There's extra work when we're very full of business,

for which I allow payment as overtime.

Your wages shall average

from 5 to 7 shillings a week.

Yes, madame.

You can begin as soon as it's convenient.

She can begin now. Oh. Very well.

Come into the showroom.

There. Now you are provided for.

I'm very much obliged to you, uncle.

I've merely done my duty.

I hope that you'll do yours.

I'll do my best.

I'm very pleased to hear it.

You'll find your way home this evening?

Goodbye then.

Good day, ma'am.

Good day, Mr Nickleby.

Oh, Miss Knag, this young person is beginning here today.

Try her with some easy work at first.

Very good, madame. I quite understand.

And she might come into the showroom with you.

Her appearance will...

It will suit very well with mine.

How very clever of you to think of it.

That way.

Demmit! Who'd have thought old Nickleby

would have had such a demned pretty, young creature

for a niece, eh?

If it weren't for your wicked extravagance,

we wouldn't have to keep borrowing from him

or employing his poor relations.

My life and soul.

Ohh!

PARROT: Demmit! Demmit!

(SCREECHES)

You will work here, Miss Nickleby.

You better begin by hemming this petticoat.

If you want anything, come to me.

Thank you.

(TITTERING)

(WOMAN CLAPS)

(TITTERING STOPS)

Where are you from? From Devonshire.

Oh, I don't mean that.

Where did you work before?

Nowhere.

Oh, nowhere.

Oh, superior, aren't we?

(LAUGHTER)

(CLAPS)

That's enough! Dinner's over!

Rise.

For what we have received,

may the lord make us truly thankful. Amen.

Amen. Amen. Amen.

Nickleby, I'm going out.

You will have to take the rest of the classes by yourself.

You can do that, I suppose.

Yes, Mr Squeers.

Smike.

You needn't be afraid of me.

You've been here a long time, haven't you?

Since I was 5, they tell me, sir.

I don't know.

Don't you remember your mother your home?

No, I don't remember.

I don't remember anything.

Someone must have brought you here.

Your father perhaps. He wasn't my father.

I don't think he was.

I was afraid of him.

I was glad to leave him.

Glad? But surely, you're not happy here.

Happy?

PHOEBE: Smike!

Beg pardon, Mr Nickleby.

Smike, Miss Fanny's back,

and you're to fetch her box upstairs quick as you can.

# Fanny Squeers is jealous

# Fanny Squeers is jealous!

Oh, stop it, Wackford.

# Hilda Price has gone and got spliced

# So Fanny Squeers is jealous!

Is that you, Phoebe?

Where's that lazy hound of a Smike?

He were with Mr Nickleby.

Not there. Over here.

That will do. Go on outside.

# Hilda Price has gone and got spliced!

ow!

You'll never get spliced, you won't.

Phoebe! Yes, miss?

Was it a pretty wedding, Miss Fanny,

over to Miss Price's?

Come on.

She must have made a lovely bride

and done well by herself, too, hasn't she?

Well enough for her, I have no doubt.

Who is Mr... Nickleby?

He's the new assistant.

You ought to see him.

He's a real gentleman born

if ever there was one.

The way he talks and acts

and carries on.

And you've only to look at him.

Such beautiful eyes he's got

and such a sweet smile,

and as for his legs...

Phoebe, that's quite enough.

Oh, but, miss, you ought to see him for yourself.

First, write the address at the top

and then the date, 17TH of December, 1830.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Come in.

I'm sorry, father, but...

Oh.

I beg your pardon.

I thought my father was...or might be...

Dear me. How very awkward.

Mr Squeers is out.

Oh, how tiresome.

I'm sorry I intruded.

I'm sure...

It must look so very strange.

I only wanted my pen mended.

Perhaps I can do it for you.

Oh, no, no, no. I couldn't

put you to the trouble.

Hard nib or soft?

Such a sweet smile.

What did you say?

Dear me. I was thinking

of something else for the moment.

As soft as possible, if you please.

Oh. I quite forgot. I'm MISS Squeers.

I imagined that.

Did you really?

There's a strong family resemblance.

Oh, I beg your pardon.

Very awkward of me.

Oh, not at all. It's my fault, mine entirely.

Very...so embarrassing. I scarcely know what I...

Careful. You're biting your nib off now.

Oh.

Oh, dear me!

FANNY: What do you mean, "quick as you could"?

I sent for you 10 minutes gone.

Don't you run from me, you lying, little pig you!

Smike was having his supper.

I told him to finish it.

If you have any objections,

you better make them to me.

I didn't see you where there, Mr Nickleby.

It's quite all right of course

now that you explained.

There's no call to run away.

Pa's still out, and Ma's with him.

You can have a glass of port if you like.

Come and sit down. Thank you. I'm going to bed.

Nobody's kind to me!

I wish everybody was dead!

I wish I was dead, too!

(SOBBING)

(DOOR SLAMS)

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Come in.

Mr Nickleby likes you, doesn't he, Smike?

Oh, yes, he does,

and you've been having a fine, idle time

since he's been here.

Wait till I tell father.

Just wait!

Smike!

Where the devil are you?

Smike!

Where's that Smike?

Is he hiding somewhere in here?

Smike!

He's not here, sir.

Where is he then?

At the bottom of the nearest pond for all I know.

Come on.

Someone knows where he is!

(GRUNT)

Sneaking off up the York Road, he was.

Oh, he was, was he?

Each boy, keep his seat.

Nickleby, to your place.

Stand a little out of the way, my dear.

I've hardly room enough.

Have you anything to say?

I was driven to do it.

Oh, driven, were you?

Then I'll have to spare you.

I'll flog you within an inch of your life

and spare you that.

Hee hee hee! Ha ha ha!

Let that boy go. Hold your tongue!

You've done him enough harm. Get back to your desk!

I've seen it these last few weeks,

nothing but blows and strikes.

I'm in my rights!

Your rights? To beat and starve these boys?

This isn't a school. It's a hell on earth.

You young scum!

Ohh! I...

MRS SQUEERS: Oh, help!

He's killing my Squeery!

Stop it, you dirty hound you. Stop it!

Help!

(SOBBING)

SQUEERS: Ow! Oh! Ow!

Ohh! Help!

He's killing my Squeery!

Ow!

Stop it! Help!

(SOBBING)

(WHEEZES)

Aah! Hoo hoo!

(SOBBING)

Come, Smike.

(MUMBLES)

(MRS SQUEERS MOANS)

He's dead! He's murdered!

My Squeery!

Squeery!

Squeery, say something.

(GROANS)

FANNY: "To Mr Ralph Nickleby, esquire.

"Sir, my pa requests me to write to you,

"the doctors being doubtful whether he will recover the use of his legs,

"which prevents his holding a pen.

When your nephew had done this to him"...

ohh! "And jumped upon him with his feet

"and also language,

"which I will not pollute my pen with describing,

"he assaulted my ma with dreadful violence

"and drove her back comb several inches into her head.

"The monster, having satiated his thirst for blood,

ran away."

"Taking with him a boy of desperate character,

who he had incited to rebellion."

"My pa begs that if he comes to you,

"you will let the assassin go,

"as he is sure to be hung before long,

"which will save us trouble

and be much more satisfactory."

Pretty.

Very pretty.

I recommend you against my convictions,

and what is the result?

Conduct for which you might hold up your hand

at the old bailey.

It isn't true! Nicholas, tell him!

He was ill-treating the boy.

I'd do the same again.

RALPH: Penitence.

I never would have believed it.

Mama, please.

What have you done with him?

Did you take this boy away, or didn't you?

The boy's in my charge until I can find him a home

or give him one myself.

The whole thing proved, even on his own confession.

One thing is proved. But uncle!

Let me say a world.

Of what I have done for you, my niece,

or I intended to do, I shall say nothing,

but this boy, headstrong and willful as he is,

shall not have one penny of my money!

Knowing full well the consequences,

he's come back to be a burden

on his sister's scanty wages.

Very well.

I have no wish to desert you, ma'am, or Kate,

but I will not help him or those who do help him.

But I can't renounce my own son,

even if he's done all you say.

Mama, you know he hasn't.

I don't know what to think.

Never mind. We can go to the work house

or the refuge for the destitute.

Wait, sir.

You needn't leave here.

I shall be gone in one minute.

No, Nicholas!

Don't go away again, please.

Kate, I never meant to stay here with you.

When I'm away, you will be helped.

Mother sees that,

and she's right.

Bless you, Kate.

I'm taking you at your word, sir,

but if you break it...

I beg your pardon.

I...I'm in your way perhaps.

Oh, no, not at all, thank you,

but if I'm in yours...

No.

There doesn't seem to be very much.

No. It's so hard to find work of any kind.

You understand of course,

my secretary must make himself master of foreign policy,

run his eye over all accounts of public meetings,

get up a few little arguments now and then

on the effects of returned cash payments,

the exportation of bullion,

the Emperor of Russia,

bank notes, and all that kind of thing,

and then of course wait in the lobby every night

in case I need fresh cramming,

and during debates, sit in the gallery

and point me out to people

as the celebrated Mr Gregsbury

and any other little eulogium that might strike you.

And for salary in round figures,

15 shillings a week and find yourself there.

15 shillings? That's not much.

(DING)

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Door, Matthews.

I mean for the duties and responsibilities.

Door, Matthews!

Secretaries. Nothing else.

Tuition?

Mr and Mrs Kenwigs, to instruct the daughters in French.

A shilling per week per each Miss Kenwigs

and a shilling over until the baby can take it out in grammar.

Thank you.

My aunt's pen.

Le plume de ma tante.

GIRLS: Le plume de ma tante.

My uncle's...

Hold on a minute, sir.

Do you consider French a cheerful language?

Yes. I'd say that it was.

Oh. It's very much changed since my time, then,

very much. My uncle's...

What is the French for water?

L'eau. L'eau.

And you call that a cheerful language.

Ha ha ha!

Shall the gentleman go on, uncle?

Oh, yes, yes, let him go on.

My uncle's garden. Le jar...

(CRYING)

(CRYING)

The daughters I could manage, even the uncle,

but the baby was too much for me. Ha ha ha!

I must find real work somewhere,

and then there's Smike.

He can't go on hiding for ever

in one wretched, little room.

We're leaving London, Mr Noggs.

But I could look after the boy.

And bring down trouble on your own head?

Better you've never see him, know nothing of him.

I must go,

but there's one thing I wanted to ask.

It's about Kate and my mother.

If anything should happen... I'll let you know.

You didn't need to ask. Thank you.

I'll write to you.

I'll send an address as soon as I can.

Don't you forget then.

I'm not likely to.

I haven't so many friends

that I shall forget my best one.

(PENNYWHISTLE PLAYING)

Mind out there!

MAN: Madeline. Madeline.

Hurry up. We haven't all day, Madeline.

I'm just coming, father.

Let me take those.

We met before at the agency.

Yes.

I remember.

MAN: Madeline. What is it, Madeline? Who's...

This gentleman's just helping me, Father.

We have no money, young man,

it that's what you're hoping for. Please, Father.

Get the rest of the luggage, and let's be off.

MAN: Just a minute! Oh, no, you don't.

Trying to do a flit, eh,

trying to queer my pitch for me, eh?

I'm not too partial to that kind of lark, see?

Leave my father alone.

You have no right to. Let him go!

Stop that, my little lady.

Take your hands off her!

That will do, young shaver.

This is not your business!

I'll soon make it mine!

Please!

There's nothing you can do.

Here's my warrant of debts unpaid

to the sum of £1,700, detaining creditors...

yes, yes. There's no need

to cry my finances all over the town.

You will accompany me forthwith

and present yourself at the King's Bench Prison before noon.

He's not well. I must go with him.

If you wants to live with him, you can apply.

Go on.

Might as well use the hackney.

NICHOLAS: If there's anything I can do,

any message to friends.

No. There's nothing.

You're very kind.

I only wish I could do something, too.

Thank you.

MAN: Come on. Come on if you're coming.

Cheer up, governor.

Perhaps they'll live in the rules.

The rules?

Lodgings just outside the prison.

Pay so much a week for the privilege.

Giddyap there, doggie.

Only 12 more.

Tired, Smike?

No. I'm not tired.

Well, if you're not, I am.

Let's try in here.

Landlord!

I shouldn't have come with you.

I'm nothing but a trouble to you.

A trouble? You are far from that, Smike.

I'm only too glad of your company.

You haven't enough money even for yourself.

If it hadn't been for me...

Yes, gentlemen?

We're looking for some supper

and a room perhaps afterwards.

Supper? I'm a bit short tonight.

I'll tell you what. There's a gentleman in the parlour

who's ordered a beefsteak pudding and potatoes,

and there's more than he can manage.

If I ask leave, I have no doubt you could sup with him.

We're very dusty and dirty.

Oh, lord love you. Why, it's only Mr Crummles.

Smike.

Don't you believe what I've said?

Tried to go away when we were in London.

I couldn't.

You want a hot meal and a good sleep,

and I want no more talk of that kind,

understand, Smike?

LANDLORD: All right. I knew it would be.

Come this way, gentlemen.

Wait till you see them in here,

the way they're going on it.

Thrust, Parry. Thrust, Parry.

More fire, boys. Make the spark fly.

Under, over. Good work!

1, 2, into him.

1, 2, reverse!

1, 2. That's better.

Mr Vincent Crummles, this is the young gentleman, sir.

Aha.

Ha ha ha!

There's a picture. The little one has him.

If the big'un does not counter in 3 seconds,

he's a dead man. Bravo, boys, bravo.

That will be a double encore.

What do you think of that, sir? Very good indeed.

If only they were a little better match.

Match? Why, that's the essence of the combat,

that there should be a foot or two between them.

How else are you going to get up the sympathies of the audience?

I see. I beg your pardon.

Ah. The ample pleasures of the table.

Now, gents, draw up and make yourselves comfortable.

I'm glad you thought well of the combat.

We open at Portsmouth the day after tomorrow.

The company are there already.

My son, take your had off.

My sons and I are on our way to join them.

Where are you bound for?

We're making for the coast.

We thought if there were nothing ashore

we might get work aboard some ship or other.

With practiced hands as plentiful as oysters?

There's not a skipper would think you're worth your salt.

Tell me, has no other profession occurred to you

that a young man of your figure and address

could take up? Can't say it does.

No? Then I'll tell you one.

The stage! The stage?

The theatrical profession!

I'm in it myself, my wife is in it,

my children are in it.

I had a dog that lived and died in it from a puppy,

and my chaise-pony goes on in "timour the tartar."

I'll bring you out and your friend, too.

Capital countenance for the starved business.

Say the word.

But I've never acted a part in my life

except at school.

Genteel comedy in your walk and manner,

juvenile tragedy in your eye,

and touch-and-go farce in your laugh!

Could I live by it?

Live by it? Like a prince.

Why, with your salary and your friend,

you'd earn a pound a week.

Well, Smike, what do you...

Ah. The arms of Morpheus.

And with a run of good houses,

nearly double the money.

What do you say?

Good.

CRUMMLES: Here we are, my boy,

the home of the drama!

(NEIGHS)

Hurry, boys. We're late.

A good pony at bottom.

His mother was on the stage, too.

We'll find my wife rehearsing, no doubt.

Astonishing woman!

Mrs Crummles was the original blood drinker.

She had to give it up, though.

Did it disagree with her?

Not so much with her as with the audiences.

Ah, what a woman, what a woman!

Mother of 6 children, 3 of them alive,

and all upon the stage.

Extraordinary.

Extraordinary indeed.

Farewell!

Alone.

Alone in the African jungle

and married to an outlaw!

The first time I saw that admirable woman,

Nickleby, she stood on her head

on the butt end of a spear

surrounded by blazing fireworks.

Such grace...

(SNIFFS)

Coupled with such dignity.

I adored her from that moment.

MRS CRUMMLES: And yet another blow!

My daughter lost!

Wild beasts best me path!

Ohh!

Mrs Crummles, my darling,

allow me to introduce Mr Nicholas Nickleby

and his friend!

I'm very glad to meet you, sir.

Ohh! In half an hour, the sun will set,

and then, then where shall I be?

The end of act iv, scene 2,

"the mortal struggle."

A most heart-rending piece.

Ah. The infant phenomenon,

miss Ninetta Crummles, age 10.

She's practicing for our little ballet interlude,

"The Indian Savage And The Maiden."

The idol of every place we go into.

How old do you say she was?

She's 10.

Amazing.

Mr Folair, Mr Nickleby.

Very happy to know you, sir.

How do you do, sir?

Beautiful pirouette, darling.

Talent there, gentlemen.

Did you ever see such a setup?

Do you mean the infant phenomenon?

Infant, humbug, sir.

She's only 10 after all.

10? She's been 10 for the last 5 years at least,

but she's no taller.

Up late every night

and kept on a diet of gin and water unlimited from infancy.

CRUMMLES: Folair!

Onstage!

Onstage!

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Everybody's here, Mr Crummles.

Silence, please!

(BANG AND SCREAM)

Silence.

(SNIFFS)

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

we'll call "the mortal struggle" for tomorrow, Saturday.

On Monday morning, we shall read a new piece.

The name is not known yet,

but there will be good parts for everyone.

Mr Nickleby, a new performer

of genius and learning, will take care of that.

What? But I...

On Monday morning at 10:00 everybody, please.

WOMAN: Everyone at 10:00.

Mr Crummles, I can't write a play.

I'm afraid you misunderstood.

And by Monday morning?

My invention isn't equal to it.

Invention? What's that to do with it?

You said you could read French, didn't you?

Yes.

There. Turn that into English

and put your name on the title page.

What do you say, dear?

We must consider the question of suitable parts.

Quite, quite. I'll tell you what.

You shall study Romeo when you've done that piece.

Romeo? It'll do very well,

and you might get up Rover while you're about it

and Cassio and Jeremy Diddler.

Ah. The apothecary for you

and Polonius and Tony Lumpkin.

Oh, and Bottom The Weaver.

Well, I doubt if...

You can easily knock them off.

One part helps the other so much.

It's all there, cues and all.

Come along, my dear.

Miss Bray waiting to see you.

Bray?

Hmm. Daughter of the old man, I suppose,

or it's his sister.

Miss Bray.

I hadn't expected anyone so young or so...

you've come to clear the debt, I take it.

No.

I came to ask if you...

you and Mr Gride would give my father another chance,

set him free.

Set him free?

My dear child, your father has been arrested.

Nothing can free him now

until he's paid both his debts.

Surely you must know the law.

I know nothing of the law.

I only know that this imprisonment at his age...

but you're not in the prison itself surely.

You're in the rules.

It's not so bad there.

Bad enough, Mr Nickleby.

If you would only give us...

My dear Miss Bray, I've already told you I can do nothing.

As for Gride, he will tell you precisely the same.

Your father was once a man of wealth.

Before he squandered his money,

he should have thought of the consequences.

(BELL DINGS)

Now I have some work to do.

Good night, sir.

Good night, my dear.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

MRS NICKLEBY: An old family friend saying to me...

what was his name now?

It began with a "V" and ended with a "C,"

but whether it was Watkins or...

No. It couldn't have been that.

Uncle, I...

Ah, my dear.

As you see, were just talking about you.

Kate, my love, you're to dine

with your uncle at half past 6:00 tomorrow.

I'm having a small party of business friends,

and your mother has promised me

you shall keep house for me.

I'm sure you won't mind obliging me.

I shall be very glad to of course, uncle,

but we don't finish work until 9:00.

I've already spoken to Madame Mantalini.

You may leave early. Oh.

Well, of all the fortunes.

Come in good time in a hackney coach.

I'll pay for it.

Good night and, uh, God bless you.

I have an idea your uncle has taken

a strong fancy to you.

That's quite clear.

Let me see. Your black silk frock

will be dressy enough

with that pretty, little scarf

and a plain band in your hair.

MAN: Well, if this is a discounting dinner, hawk.

All I have to say is devil take me

if it wouldn't be a good plan

to get discount every day.

You will have plenty of it in your time.

Nickleby will tell you that.

What do you say, Nickleby?

Am I to be a good customer?

It depends entirely, milord, on circumstances.

On your lordship's circumstances.

And here's our hostess wondering why the deuce

someone doesn't make love to her.

No. Indeed. I...I...

There. She can't look me in the face and deny it.

I'll hold any man £50 she can't.

Done! Within two minutes.

Pike, you're the timekeeper.

Please don't make me the subject of your bets.

(LAUGHTER)

Uncle, do ask them not.

RALPH: Why not, my dear, if the gentleman insists.

It is done in a moment.

Oh, I don't insist.

If miss Nickleby makes the denial, I lose,

but I'd be glad to see those bright eyes of hers,

especially as they favour the table so much.

So they do, and it's too bad of you.

(LAUGHTER)

How goes the enemy?

One minute gone. Bravo!

Won't you make an effort

for me, Miss Nickleby?

You needn't trouble yourself to inquire, my buck.

She and I understand each other.

Time? Minute and a half gone.

Get the money ready.

(LAUGHTER)

Ask my niece not to leave

until I have spoken to her.

Thanks. That's a girl of spirit.

We'll drink her health.

Miss Nickleby and those bright and beautiful eyes.

ALL: Miss Nickleby.

An unexpected pleasure...

your niece, I mean.

Designed to surprise you, Lord Frederick.

Nickleby knows well enough how to please a new client.

Speaking of clients, Mr Gride,

I was honoured yesterday by a visit from Bray's daughter.

She merely wants to set the whole course of law in reverse,

free her father without payment of his debts.

What an optimistic young lady.

Yes...but rather a good-looking one.

You see, Nickleby,

the estate is large enough,

but the ready cash is not.

That's the deadlock.

Now, I'm wondering...

you mean it's no go?

I never digest my dinner and business at the same time,

nor should you.

Come to my office one day.

You're a deuced good fellow, Nickleby.

Hawk said you'd come to the rescue.

The most knowing card in the pack,

I always called him. Eh, hawk?

Where the devil is he?

Ah, how delightfully studious.

And such eyelashes.

Upon my soul, they're perfect.

Now, why did I speak and destroy such a pretty little picture?

Let me go!

Oh, no. I want to talk to you.

Let me go!

Let me leave here, please. Just a moment.

Sit down, my dear.

I advise you, sir, to rejoin the party.

Hmm.

You wanted our young friend, didn't you?

If he'd found his way in here instead of me,

you would have been a little blinder

and a little deafer, eh?

Who brought him to you?

Without me, what chance would you have

to land him in that net of yours?

It's a large net, and rather full.

I shouldn't like anyone to be choked in the meshes.

Hmm.

Now, Kate.

I won't stay in this house a moment longer.

You must calm yourself, my dear.

Yes. Yes, you should go. Of course you shall.

What that man said was true.

You brought me here for...

for your business.

My dear child, how could I know this would happen?

I sent the fellow off quickly enough.

You saw that for yourself.

Think no more of it.

I shall say nothing of this to your mother.

After all, it was only an incident.

1,000. Many a thanks.

Thank you, milord.

Nickleby's losing by it. Take my word.

He wouldn't give those terms to everyone.

I wouldn't.

Heh heh!

That, um, niece of yours...

devilish pretty girl.

She's considered so, I believe.

(BELLS JINGLING)

Where does the beauty live, eh?

I should like to have another peep.

I'm sure, milord, no good would come of your knowing.

Oh, come.

You know you're going to make a fortune out of me.

Let me see her again,

and I'll never deal with anyone else.

If you could come back later...

but I had a letter,

just before Kate left this morning,

or didn't leave, rather.

Confound you, Nigel! I told you to show Mrs Nickleby...

Ooh, there you are, after all.

Kate, my dear.

I was sure if you had been engaged,

you'd have said so in the letter.

And in that case, of course,

you wouldn't have written it.

I couldn't quite make out why we had to come, but...

Ooh.

I beg your pardon.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Allow me to present my sister-in-law.

You're the mother of miss Nickleby,

the delightful creature we met when last we dined here?

No, I can't believe it.

Milady is too young for that.

MRS NICKLEBY: but I assure you...

Sir Mulberry Hawk.

Lord Verisopht.

A great pleasure. How do you do?

Milord, Sir Mulberry. Really, I...

Now that we've met Mom,

we must improve on the acquaintance.

I have a private box at the opera.

The opera!

If you and your daughter would do me the honour...

it's a new opera on Saturday,

first performance.

Come, now. A refusal is out of the question.

I'll send my carriage for you.

You're so very pressing. I scarcely know what to...

Kate, do you hear?

Yes, Mama, but...

Of course. We shall be delighted.

Capital. Now we must be off.

Good day, Nickleby.

I will see you out.

Eh? What?

Oh, are we going?

Good day, miss Nickleby.

Good day, Mrs Nickleby.

I shall look forward to Saturday.

Two more handsome, delightful gentlemen, I never saw.

And titles, both of them.

What a wicked girl not to tell your mother you'd met them.

I declare, you must have had some reason for it.

Please, Mama, must we go to the opera?

(WOMAN SINGING OPERA)

(MAN SINGING)

Delightful. Quite delightful.

And so different from Shakespeare.

I'm always ill after Shakespeare.

It's the most extraordinary thing.

This is the most happy evening for me, my dear.

Suppose we slip out for a little supper together?

Your mother won't miss you.

What do you say?

Why, Kate, my dear, you've gotten quite pale.

It's nothing, Mama. You imagined it.

I was thinking the same, Mrs Nickleby.

Your daughter needs country air.

Now, I have a little place near Windsor.

Windsor?

A few hundred acres.

Why not let her come down there next weekend?

Accompanied by yourself, of course.

Lord Frederick will be there, too.

Well, really, this is too kind.

Isn't it, Kate?

Just think of it. Hundreds of acres.

It could do you all the good in the world,

won't it, Lord Frederick? She's more than...

(SINGING CONTINUES LOUDER)

...just now, it occurred to me

it reminded me of the day you caught that dreadful cold

the very evening that gentleman called

whose father and mother married an Archbishop.

Or were they married by one?

I'm sure you must...

(CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY)

CRUMMLES: A glooming peace

this morning with it brings;

the sun for sorrow will not show his head.

Go hence to have more talk of these sad things;

some shall be pardoned and some punish-ed:

for never was a story of more woe

than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

Capital, my boy, a prince of a Romeo. Take it.

I was quite swept off my feet, I was, really.

I'm out of stout, love. Would you be a dear?

Now I have another novelty.

What's that, the performing pony?

Oh, no, we never come to the ponies

till everything else has failed.

A bespeak, my boy.

A benefit night in your honour.

Excuse me. This just came on the London coach.

From Newman Noggs.

Is it bad news?

"No wish to alarm you,

"but your uncle being the man he is

"and his friends the men they are,

"events may soon occur which would put your sister in sore need of protection."

(CRUMMLES HUMMING)

Mr Crummles, I hope you'll forgive me.

I shall have to leave the company.

Leave? At the height of your success?