Previously on Vanity Fair...
Our story began with Miss Rebecca
Sharp's escape from the schoolroom,
her attempt to capture the heart of
her new best friend's brother...
Miss Sharp.
- A fate worse than death... - Governess?
And so, an old house, a dark night, a new master...
Who welcomes you to his humble abode.
And, yes, a handsome hero.
Tonight, marvelous little Becky charms her way
through darkest Hampshire and beyond,
for yes, this is Vanity Fair,
a world where everyone is striving
for what is not worth having.
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She never washed behind her ears.
Liar!
This is my desk.
And that is Violet's.
I like reading, but she only likes animals.
You may resume our education now.
First, we must register your attendance.
Miss Rose Crawley?
Present?
Miss Violet Crawley?
Present!
Lord Mouse of Mousingham Hall?
Present.
Rebecca Sharp?
Present.
Remember girls, we're all in this together.
Even Lord Mouse of Mousingham Hall?
Especially him.
Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six,
cache-cache!
We're playing hide and seek.
Do you know, that is my favourite game.
Your brother, up to his old tricks again.
Another artful hussy, no doubt.
I am never wrong.
May I play, Mademoiselle?
No, sir, you may not.
But it's Rawdon!
No, I've been dismissed, little sister.
And a gentleman must always bow to the command of a lady.
But... Will you be my secret messenger?
I believe your charming governess
dropped a picture of me and my brother.
Give it back to her, when she's not looking.
Now, blow me a kiss to keep me going till dinner.
Father says she comes very highly recommended.
From Miss Pinkerton's Academy for Young Ladies?
A breeding ground for fortune-hunting jades.
Perhaps in your day.
Don't try to be funny, Bute.
Sept, huit, neuf.
Are you still here? Go on! Cache-cache!
Vingt et un, vingt-deux, vingt-trois,
vingt-quatre, vingt-cinq,
vingt-six, vingt-sept, vingt-huit, vingt-neuf...
Good morning, miss!
...trente.
I'm coming!
You're frightening my puppy!
Desist!
Climb aboard, come on.
You see this avenue?
It's a mile long.
It's very fine.
Fine be damned.
L6,000 worth of timber in them there
trees, and you know what that means?
It means that you're very rich.
It means, Madam, that every half-arsed brigand
in the county thinks it's worth his while
to try it on with Sir Pitt Crawley.
Poachers, crooked agents and bankrupt tenants,
I put my lawyers on the lot of them.
My poor dear Papa was much given to the law.
I've won and lost more lawsuits than any man in England.
He had me read so many of his hopeless cases
that I've become quite the expert, so...
Get up there, get up, get up!
Get out of my damned way!
Knock him down, Papa, kill him!
Crooked agents or bankrupt tenants?
Him? Him's my son and heir.
He, he's my son and heir, not... not him.
And her is my prune-faced daughter-in-law.
Aunt Martha.
I suppose rich baronets, with even more lawsuits than trees,
do not need to be as careful with
grammar as poor governesses must be.
If you'd like me to look at your papers...
Whoa there!
You thieving little ragamuffins!
I'll have the souls out of your nasty little bodies!
Come here!
I'll pull every inch of skin off your filthy little limbs!
When I get my ruddy hands on you...
Are you inspecting me, Miss Crawley?
I am reading your mind.
And what do you find there?
You're thinking that rather than be a governess,
you can become a secretary instead.
Well, I do like to have a plan.
Bless, O Lord, this food we are about to eat.
Girls, stop it.
And we pray to thee, O Lord, that it may be good for our souls,
more than our vile bodies.
Amen.
And if there be any poor beggar, hungry or thirsty,
walking along the road, O Lord, send him hither.
Amen.
And when it falls to us sinners to pass from time to eternity...
Amen!
Amen.
Will she be kind to my girls?
Goodness, Mama! Your fichu's gone adrift!
Her's my wife, the second Lady Crawley, Becky.
She's even dafter than the first one that died in your bed.
That was my beloved mother, sir!
Mind you, she's not as stuck up.
I'll give her that.
- Mouton au navet, sir. - Lovely!
Mutton and turnips. Again.
They will be jealous in the barracks.
I believe it is the custom, Captain, in decent society,
to call the dish as I have called it.
Mutton is mutton and turnips is turnips.
I killed that there sheep with my own hands!
Here, smell 'em.
Smell it!
I do hope that you won't be put off
by our family's country ways, Miss Sharp.
Not at all, Captain Crawley.
I find city people so shallow and heartless.
Don't you?
I'm so glad of your visit, Captain Dobbin.
I hope you might advise.
I know my little worries are the least of his concern, but...
Captain Dobbin.
I live in fear that George may be called away to fight.
The war is over...
and we won.
He never answers my letters.
Perhaps I write too much.
He should be glad of every word.
Give it to my George, with all of my love, wherever you find him.
I will write another letter to Becky.
How I hope she is among friends!
"Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.
Thus the preacher's voice,
in rebuke and mockery of all the pursuits of earthliness."
Read on.
"Then I saw in my dream, that when Christian and Faithful
were got out of the wilderness, they
presently saw a town before them."
Very good. Violet?
Rawdon has gone back to London.
What a relief!
Read on.
"And the name of that town is Vanity,
And at that town there's a fair kept called Vanity Fair."
No candles upstairs, Miss Blunt.
And is Vanity Fair not a very vain, wicked and foolish place?
Full of all sorts of humbug and falseness and pretension?
No.
Yes?
Read on.
Rules is rules, Miss Becky.
You must go to bed in the dark.
You pretty little hussy.
I am no hussy, I'm a Montmorency, on my mother's side.
My lady!
We are honoured. Bow down, young Horrocks.
Now, unless you wish for Horrocks here
to come for the candle every night...
mind and be in bed at ten.
I took the liberty of making a start on your leases and tenancies,
and had planned, in the morning, to
suggest how more money might be made.
Alas, quite impossible in the dark.
Get her a candle, you dolt!
Get her a whole box of candles!
Gammon.
Every time she creeps up on me from nowhere.
That is a godless amusement for a young female.
In France, before the revolution, it was
thought quite an aristocratic game.
Surely the schoolroom is where a governess should spend her days.
A secretary's day is best spent by her master's side.
A female cannot be a secretary!
Whilst governess plays at secretary,
what, pray, is her pupil reading?
Rose is reading a French novel,
and learning the habit of quiet, scholarly reflection.
- And where is Violet? - Engaged in the study of nature.
In which endeavour it may be good for our souls to join her.
The only reason I put up with him
and his horrible wife is I has to.
Don't tell me you owe your son and heir money too!
Er, for the lawsuits, and the horses, and...
We should quietly drop the case against the crooked agent.
Now, wait a moment...
As he's got no money to settle it, don't
argue, Sir Pitt, you know I'm right.
Taking charge, are we?
Well you keep your little feet under my table,
you're more damn use than any of my family.
Blaggards and wastrels, the lot of them.
After you, Osborne.
Stand back, Crawley, you're up against a master.
perhaps I'll pick up some tips.
Damn slippery balls!
It's not really my game, either.
Beginner's luck.
The cue's sticking.
Play again.
With pleasure.
Dob! Just in time!
Lend me 200, will you, there's a good fellow.
- Actually no, lend me four. - With me, now.
Well, at least answer her letters!
She writes hundreds!
On and on!
Don't look angry, I am very fond of Amelia,
I adore her, and that sort of thing, but
you and I are supposed to be friends.
You shouldn't be always telling me off.
Go and comfort her, you rascal.
Buy her a little present.
She's damn fond of me, I know.
But hey, Dob, where's the fun in winning a thing
if you've never had to work for it?
Do something to make her happy.
God knows it won't take much.
- Your father... - Is well, thank you, sir.
Has ever been my closest friend.
No one knows it better than I, sir.
I helped him set up his business...
When we were both very young.
Yes, sir, I know.
It's the hardest thing in the world.
Friends growing cold.
Amelia!
George!
What a lovely pin!
Yeah this old thing.
I shall buy you something next time I'm in town.
Imagine Mrs George Osborne in a regimental lodging house.
Or worse still, baking in the East
Indies, patronised by the Major's wife.
I shouldn't mind... if you were there.
No. Amelia, I am determined, I shall leave the army in a year.
And then... then my dear little girl
shall take the place in society to
which, as my wife, she will be entitled.
George... Your wife!
"And so, my dear friend, it is settled,
I shall be the happiest woman alive,
married to my love.
Married to the most gallant, the most handsome.
How I wish such a happy ending for you too, darling Becky."
News from a friend who is flourishing?
Always so annoying.
In my day, Miss Pinkerton ran a high-class establishment,
which prepared respectable young
ladies to be wives, not secretaries.
In the olden days I'm sure everything was quite different,
and much better in every way.
You are too pert, Miss Blunt, and I dare say cunning, too.
Be sure I have my eye always on you.
Becky!
Two of the decks haven't been done!
Get this house straight, damn you!
And smarten yourselves up!
My sister!
Sir, is the lady dead?
If only!
She coming here.
Come on.
Hide, Lord Mousington, hide!
No more books, no more pets!
Why is everyone so frightened of her?
We love her.
When she comes, we always sew her little presents.
For she is the richest lady in the whole, wide, world,
and her will is not yet written.
Are you a princess in disguise?
You try.
Have you got a new plan?
To make Aunt Matilda fall at our feet.
Again?
Right! Come on, I want somebody working!
Horrid... Upstairs, now.
My Lord, a carriage at the gates.
My dear sister...
The sweet smell of home.
Here's one who knows which side his damn bread's buttered!
My dear Aunt, welcome back to Queen's Crawley.
May God in his glory be...
No sermons!
- We trust your... - No scheming!
Hell and damnation...
No swearing!
Good God, Rawdon, are we really related to these dreadful people?
Rawdon is very handsome,
but awfully poor on account of being younger than Bute.
Who's horrid, but it's all right because he's only a half brother.
Rawdon's a half too.
- He's not! - He is!
Girls, don't be silly, please.
Bute and Rawdon had a mama who was related to the Binkies.
The Binkies?
But we only have a mama who's an ironmonger's daughter.
So? Your mama has proven that anyone can rise
to be better than where they came from.
Now you're being silly!
But should one not ask, is it not the great end of religion,
and in particular, the glory of Christianity,
to extinguish the malignant passions, to... curb the violence,
- to control the appetites... - Christ!
On arrival did I not make myself clear?
No sermons.
Well, indeed so, yes.
If there is to be no decent entertainment...
Will the ladies like to withdraw?
Good God, no, the company of women is generally abominable.
Rawdon, take me away.
I change my will.
You must do with your fortune exactly as you wish.
The Shropshire Crawleys are even more intolerable.
You're the only one of the entire crew
who is worth a fig, my darling boy.
Names, remind me.
Rose and Violet.
Since when did you hoydens learn to curtsy like ladies?
Becky taught us.
Tomorrow, Rawdon, you and I shall discover her other talents.
Jump!
And jump!
Left, and right.
And left around the shoulder, right, left,
right around the shoulder.
What a pretty display.
I mean to do the best by your little sisters, Captain Crawley.
He means you. Not us.
My aunt requests the pleasure. In the drawing-room.
My vulgar relatives have not a musical bone between them, my dear.
You and I are cut from superior cloth.
For if music be the food of love...
?If music be the food of love?
?Sing on, sing on?
?Till I am filled?
?Am filled with joy.?
Gad, Miss Sharp!
If merit had its just reward, Miss Sharp
ought to be sitting where you do,
or indeed to be a duchess.
Well, for a radical like myself, there
ought to be no duchesses at all!
You can pretend you believe that, if you like.
But I consider this particular young lady
my equal in every respect.
Your unmarriageable daughters, Bute,
might take a leaf from her book.
A paragon, a jewel.
Now, a waltz!
Gong!
Bang the damn gong for dinner!
Rawdon!
Dinner is served.
Aunt Matilda, may I have the great honour...
You may not! Becky will take me into dinner.
Aunt Matilda's cushion, quick!
And Rawdon shall carry my cushion.
Pitt, your task is to organise a ball in our honour.
I hate balls.
You hate balls.
We are the only three Christians in the county, my dears.
Where the devil is my son?
George is at headquarters, Papa, I'm sure he'll...
Keep still, woman.
Mr George has not come in, Sir.
Be damned Mr George, am I master of this house?
Dinner.
Well, what are they waiting for now?
Papa, grace?
Holy... righteous and everywhere present God,
give us thy blessing upon this food.
Amen.
Yes.
Soup?
Skin of my teeth! I thought I was bound to be late.
You are late, sit down.
- How are we all? - Hungry.
You look pale, Miss Sedley.
It's that... bell.
Just my father ringing for claret.
Miss Osborne...
have I, in some way I cannot account for...
angered your father?
He was angry with George, not you.
He used to be...
kinder.
Given all the advantages I never had, make good use of them.
Mix with the young nobility, boy.
My guineas is as good as theirs.
Indeed so, sir.
Though one can't carry on with these great folks for nothing,
and my purse is empty.
What I want to know, son, is how you
and that little thing are carrying on?
It's not hard to see.
It's pretty clear we are engaged, and so on.
But why shouldn't you marry higher than a...
stockbroker's daughter?
Didn't you order me to marry her?
A hundred years ago, and ain't I a good, obedient boy?
People's fortunes change.
I tell you in confidence, I don't
like the look of Sedley's affairs.
The man is made of money.
He's made of other people's money, and he's invested it unwisely.
I'll see Amelia's L10,000 in advance, or there'll be no wedding.
I will not have a lame-duck daughter in my family.
Half ten o'clock, and all's well.
Yes, I... do hope so.
She drank seven glasses of champagne,
and filthy stuff it is, too.
And cherry brandy after dinner, then Curacao with her coffee.
I lay five to two that Matilda drops in a year.
If that young person is flirting with Rawdon again,
her virtue won't last the night.
What's that?
A false note.
Relatives.
Skulking!
Intolerable!
Come, my dear, and let us abuse their company.
I have not a true friend in the whole family.
They all want my money.
Money is important only to people without quality.
What I like best is for a poor
fellow to run away with a rich girl.
It's much better the other way around,
for a rich man to marry a miller's daughter,
it makes all the fine ladies so angry.
I wish some great man would run away with you, my dear.
I'm sure you're pretty enough.
Lord, how I love all foolish marriages.
Between us, I have my heart set on
Rawdon running away with someone.
Someone rich or someone poor?
You goose!
The great handsome dandy is crippled with debts,
he has not one shilling but what I give him,
not an idea in his head beyond his horses.
But he'll be rich when I'm gone.
you mustn't leave yet.
Well, I've only just met you.
A little duchess.
What an honour.
I bow before you.
If your aunt really means her protestations about equality...
This family is doomed, and the country gone to the dogs.
You don't mind my cigar, Miss Sharp?
I love the smell.
Out of doors.
You ever tasted one?
By Jove.
What duchess would stoop to the attentions of a mere captain?
Good night, sir.
She was a student of mine, yes.
I have nothing to say in Miss Sharp's disfavour.
Her talents are considerable,
and I cannot regret that I received her out of charity.
Charity?
Her late father was a painter.
Alas, he was...
several times bankrupt.
You shall tell me the whole truth,
Miss Pinkerton, it will go no further.
Dissemble, and I may see to it
that no Hampshire girl shall grace this establishment again.
Unfortunately, he was never sober.
And her mother?
Represented to me as a French countess,
forced to flee the revolutionary horrors.
But in truth?
A dancer.
In the opera.
So, you have sent my family the spawn of a drunk and a harlot.
I only sought to do my Christian duty to an unhappy outcast girl.
My dear Aunt!
Rawdon!
You must join us.
He's a gambler, he's a drunkard, he shot a man in a duel,
and he's the villain will inherit 50,000 off Matilda.
Husband, I have the whole thing under control.
Here we are.
Mama, go back to bed!
I've got my green silk on.
It's too big for you. Mama?
Remember, I am never wrong.
May I have the pleasure?
You can't dance with the staff,
Sir Pitt, what would the world say?
I couldn't give a brass farthing, it's my house!
Watch your feet, mind, I haven't danced this century.
I've still got it though!
My father would attempt the virtue of the kitchen cat.
You don't have to worry about him, Bute.
But what if the second Lady Crawley
were to fade away to nothing at all?
What if THAT is the third Lady Crawley?
My next mother!
Did I not say I have everything under control?
Excuse me, father.
Thank you.
I tell you plainly, I do not like the look of this.
Let me tell you how it goes.
Rawdon will seduce her, and she will be ruined.
Meanwhile, your jealous father will
send her packing, and Matilda...
Will forget all her talk of equality in an instant.
Some air, Miss Sharp?
Martha, you are brilliant!
No, Becky, not so fast, not so fast,
remember my old age, or rather, don't,
for there is still life in me!
Gad! That hopeless old fool.
He is fond of me, how is that so amusing?
I'm just giving you a fair warning, look out, you know.
Do you suppose that I cannot defend my honour?
Yes! Indeed, Gad!
Do you suppose, Captain Crawley, that I have no self-respect
because I am poor and friendless?
Do you think because I'm your governess,
I have not as much sense and feeling and good breeding
as you gentle folks in Hampshire?
I'm a Montmorency, and even if I weren't...
You can do this because you have a loving father, and I have none.
Miss Sharp!
Rebecca!
I would happily share the old boy with you.
I've never met anyone like you.
You've never met anyone without a mother, a father,
or a penny to her name.
I've never met anyone with so much life in her.
Gad!
I wouldn't hurt you for L1,000.
Then you don't mean to ruin me, sir.
I mean with the utmost respect and affection, Miss Sharp...
To kiss you.
- The music has stopped! - Becky!
Becky!
Not you, I don't want you!
Becky! I'm dying!
Lie back, lie back.
I blame him.
My brother gives me mutton when he knows it makes me ill.
Peace and quiet is what you need.
I'm quite a fragile creature, you know?
I can see that.
Sometimes I think my entire family is trying to kill me off.
But what if you survived...
and saw to your revenge?
That's why they won't kill you,
silly, they're all so afraid of you.
And of Captain Crawley.
My valiant guardsman will protect me.
Shall I take your front?
There, that didn't hurt, did it?
"I'm so sorry I've not written to you, my beloved Amelia,
these many months passed, but what news was there to tell at first?
The sayings and doings of Humdrum Hall.
And what do you care whether the turnip crop is good or bad?
But, from the moment of Aunt Matilda's arrival,
I determined to make myself agreeable."
I commend you on your complete victory.
"Is it not a poor governess's duty, who has not a friend
or protector in the world, happy, happy Amelia...
who has a dear father, who will give you anything you ask for."
I'm sorry, I'm his business partner, surely he wants to see me,
- we have things... - Papa?
I know sir, I know, but he will not see you...
My oldest friend. There must be some mistake.
Don't let yourself down, sir, your daughter...
Amelia, come this way.
I hope to see George.
We are not welcome, we have no admittance.
I don't understand.
Mr Osborne has called in all his lands.
But...
Amelia, I-I... I can't pay it back!
- I'm sorry! - It's all right, sir, come on.
Come! Come up, sir.
I'm sorry!
No lame ducks.
My French lace handkerchiefs?
- I have them. - Laundered here, I suppose,
- and utterly ruined? - I washed and pressed them myself.
An angel!
Becky! Becky!
Shoo! I need a nurse far more than you need a governess.
Rawdon, bring her back!
I have no doubt we will be seeing Miss Sharp again, my dear.
Dear Lord, I pray not.
We escaped!
Miss Crawley, you should know that my
father was a martyr to strong liquor...
and my mother was an opera girl.
Really?
How marvellous!
An opera girl?
Dear!
Thank you, my dear!
Beware old London town, Miss Sharp is on her way!
An opera girl!
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