Tonight, Becky's fortunes go up and then down.
Is she downhearted? No.
This is Vanity Fair,
a world where everyone is striving
for what is not worth having.
Whoo!
Oh, I so love to see her in pretty clothes.
She's worth every penny.
She's an angel.
The only one in the whole world
I can really trust.
I wonder what on earth we did without her in days gone by.
Oh! Ohh!
Ohh!
For heaven's sake, Briggs.
Every day a new snivel.
We don't have much time.
Napoleon's escaped.
Who?
Boney on the loose!
Our old enemy gathering his forces!
Duke Wellington recalled to command!
Bless you, sir.
Enemy forces...
- You haven't told her? - Nothing to tell yet.
N-N-Napoleon's escaped from Elba.
The Duke of Wellington's already in Belgium,
and there's nothing for a soldier to tell his fiancée?
You're not the one who has to deal with her weeping and wailing.
I'm putting it off as long as possible.
I'll tell her when we get our marching orders.
I'm cold.
I'm hot.
I'm so scared.
So scared.
- Don't leave me. - I'm here.
I'm here. I'm always here. There's nothing to fear.
Death will come for me,
and I shall face him alone,
for I have done no good in my life.
None.
I will be one of those pathetic women
who die...
unmourned.
Oh, Becky.
Oh!
- Misery guts! - Goddamn your eyes!
All gone wrong, it has, boy.
All gone wrong.
It's just here. That's the one.
Driver.
Odd sort of place to live.
It's a perfectly respectable neighborhood, Aunt.
I know they'll be pleased to see us.
- Amelia.
We were passing, and I couldn't resist,
and Matilda didn't object,
- and so... - The middling sort, are they?
- Stockbrokers, Aunt. - Oh.
But you hate that kind of snobbery.
Becky, what a lovely surprise.
Oh, Becky.
Oh, George, look who's here.
Miss Sharp.
Oh.
Why don't you come in, Miss Crawley.
Without a proper invitation?
Perhaps it's the modern way.
Quite.
Tea, madam?
Wine, I think, Sam.
Of course. Wine. Thank you.
- But, miss... - In the garden.
No, fresh air is fatal to ladies of distinction.
My dear Mrs. Sedley,
I do wonder at your judgment
in letting him loose on the porcelain.
- Sam. Sam, I'm so sorry.
It's not me you should be worrying about.
How can they have wine, miss?
The master sold the cellar.
What?
This is none of your concern, Amelia.
A gentleman is entitled to sell his wine.
It's an investment just like any other.
Did the sale raise enough, Mama?
Enough to repay Mr. Osborne?
I'm not privy to the gentleman's business.
Now, hush.
I'm in a gentleman's family now, Mr. Osborne.
Good old English country stock,
noble and serious, going back generations.
So may I take it your new situation
has not proved to be the ordeal you feared, Miss Sharp.
The wages are tolerable.
Thank you for reminding me
that I'm of the class of person which needs to earn them.
I only make a polite inquiry.
Just think, Mr. Osborne,
had you not stood in Mr. Jos's way,
you could have had a Montmorency for a sister-in-law,
which, considering your own unimpressive pedigree,
would have been quite a coup.
Who was your grandfather exactly?
He was a butcher.
Voilà.
I'm not ashamed of my family.
Nor I of mine, sir.
Miss Sharp.
The carriage is ready,
and my aunt is tiring.
Lord, she is that.
He likes you.
Hush. Nonsense.
He's rich. Or he soon will be.
He's so handsome.
He is very handsome.
Sharp by name and sharp, I fear, by nature.
Our Miss Sharp?
Wild. Proud. A desperate flirt.
I only warn you as a friend, Crawley.
Well...
Goodbye.
Sage advice.
Thank you, my boy.
Oh.
Wha...
Damn bastard!
She tripped over her dress.
Horrocks.
Take the girls.
Come along, girls.
Is Mama dead?
Let's get you upstairs.
Mama's dead.
- Yah!
Yah! Yah!
Giddyap! Giddyap!
Giddyap!
Hmm.
Oh, good morning, Miss, uh...
Miss Sharp joins us from Queen's Crawley.
I was born on that estate, miss.
Oh.
The son of a humble undergardener.
Married the cook. Rose to be a butler.
- Now look at me. - I can see.
You've done very well for yourself, Mr. Raggles.
Not just a shopkeeper. Not anymore.
Mrs. Raggles and I plan to buy a house to let.
You should be landlords?
You climb to the very heights, Mr. Raggles.
- Some jam for your tea. - Oh!
Mr. Raggles brought it for you specially.
Is there not a single little sweetmeat in this house?
Oh. Mm.
The poor soul.
How I long to smooth her fevered brow.
It's no pleasure to me to sit up all night with her.
And I wish she would let you do it instead.
Oh, my dear friend.
May I call you Arabella?
Have another glass of wine.
Oh.
You are still her companion,
whereas I'm but a poor little girl without a jot of harm in me.
To friendship?
To friendship.
Yes, dear Becky.
Let no rivalry come between us.
Becky! Becky!
Have I not tended that dear couch
for 23 years?
Oh!
"Have I not tended that dear couch for 23 years?"
Enter!
What is it, Briggs?
Your brother is here.
With his hand out, no doubt.
Get rid of him, Becky.
He is wearing black crape.
Oh!
Miss Crawley offers her condolences
on your sad news, sir.
Unfortunately, she is not well enough to descend.
It's not her I want, miss.
I want you, Becky,
back at Queen's Crawley directly.
I hope to come soon, sir, once Miss Crawley's better.
Her will cast you off like an old shoe
when she's worn you out.
But me, Becky...
I can't get on without you.
The house all goes wrong.
The girls run wild.
All me accounts has got muddled again.
Sir Pitt, I cannot leave your sister.
- Then come as Lady Crawley.
Get out!
Marry me, Becky.
There. Will that satisfy you?
Come back with me and be my wife.
Her ladyship not even buried,
and Sir Pitt is on his knee proposing to Miss Sharp.
Get out of my way.
Shawl!
Where you shall do what you like
and spend what you like, have it all your own way.
I'll make you happy. You see if I don't, Becky.
Forgive me.
You shall be the mistress of Queen's Crawley.
4,000 pound a year.
And when I'm gone, you can have the lot.
I'll leave it all to you.
Oh, I cannot marry you.
If there's another suitor with a better offer,
I'd like to see the whites of his eyes.
There is no suitor.
Then marry me. Be my queen.
Oh, sir,
I'm married already.
Huh?
And who'd take you to be a wife
without a shilling to your fortune?
Some street sweeper?
Oh.
If the proposal is respectable,
is not the gentleman supposed to kneel before the lady?
Please God, don't tell her.
I've thanked Sir Pitt Crawley, ma'am,
but I've told him that I never can become his lady.
Pray, Miss Sharp,
are you waiting for the prince regent's divorce
if you think our family's not good enough for you?
You leave her alone, Matilda.
Whether she marries me or not, she's a good little girl,
and I'm her friend.
Don't be ridiculous, Pitt.
Your room at Queen's Crawley is waiting
whenever you're ready.
Off with you!
- Woof!
Oh.
Why on earth would the child say no to him?
And don't say "old and ugly."
Well, there must be some obstacle
in the form of an existing romantic attachment.
Very astute, Briggs.
Oh.
Some apothecary perhaps?
- Or a house painter. - Mm-hmm.
Or maybe a young curate has touched your heart.
He's young, certainly.
More than that.
Forgive me. I... I cannot say.
My silly lovestruck darling.
I'll set the young fellow up in a shop.
You'll have to tell me his name then,
or I won't be able to get him a sign.
Miss Crawley, love me always. Promise you will love me always.
Well, don't get sentimental on me, Rebecca.
It doesn't suit you.
But for her sudden coldness,
I would have confessed all right there and then.
It was only when she said she'd set you up in a shop.
You're not regretting it, are you?
Lying here with you right now,
how shall I regret marrying you?
Because you could have married the lord of the manor instead.
I did regret that for one long moment.
- You booby, I'm joking. - Hmm.
I do keep wondering if we should have tried
for Matilda's blessing in advance.
So much more romantic just running away, though, wasn't it?
If we tried and she'd said no,
you might not have married me at all.
Oh, yes, I would.
My aunt adores us both, and she will come round.
I do have a plan.
- A letter for Miss Briggs. - Oh.
Miss Briggs never gets letters.
It is from Miss Sharp.
Miss Sharp?
Yes. Dear Becky.
Is she not upstairs in her room?
Oh.
Well, come on.
"Dear friend of my heart,
break the news,
as your delicate sympathy will know how,
to our dear, our beloved benefactress.
Beg her to receive her children."
Children?
I don't understand what you're talking about.
Can I see that?
"For I am wedded
to the best and most generous of men.
Miss Crawley's Rawdon...
is my Rawdon."
Married?
To Rawdon?
Monster!
Wretch! Traitor!
"Your affectionate and grateful Rebecca Crawley..."
Treasure hunter! Revolutionary!
"..trembles for the answer, but you should see her happiness."
Tremble, vixen!
Tremble in vain.
Anyone but him!
Get out!
I might have guessed.
Someone has to clear up after you.
You are stopping our letters from getting to her.
Dear Aunt Matilda
is prostrate with grief and affliction,
such that the reading of begging letters
is medically prohibited.
Yes, in other words.
Mrs. Crawley, lovely to see you.
What if she never comes round, Becs?
What if she cuts me off without a penny?
Then I'll make your fortune.
Gad, I really think you could.
Oh, look.
A sale.
"Due to the bankruptcy of John Sedley,
stockbroker."
Gad.
Sam.
Hello.
Where are the family? Where's Amelia?
Search me.
Mr. Sedley went bust, and I moved on.
The Three Tuns in Blackfriars
if you ever find yourself in need of a pint.
Plenty more stuff in there.
Vultures.
Let's see if we can afford some of the silver.
...for this fine landscape painting,
gilded frame, artist unknown.
Who wants to start me off? Who wants to start the bidding?
Oh, Rawdon, I must have this.
What, a fat fellow on an elephant?
Amelia's brother was a great pet of mine.
Hmm.
Lot 12 for this beautiful piano.
A fine instrument.
Worn-out casing.
Well used, but well looked after.
Who's going to start the bidding then, ladies and gentlemen?
Fourteen guineas? Fourteen guineas.
- Thank you, madam. - Becky.
Amelia knows I've never had a piano in my life.
She'd want me to have it.
Fifteen. Thank you. Sixteen.
That's twice what it's worth.
Shh.
Looking for 17.
Twenty. Thank you, sir.
- Twenty-five.
Twenty-five guineas then, ladies and gentlemen.
Twenty-five guineas for this fine piano.
I don't know who my rival is, but he has long pockets.
Going once, twice...
- Well bid, sir.
Okay, Lot 13.
Ladies and gentlemen, this fine vase...
Captain Dobbin!
What a terrible fate.
To lose everything you have.
My piano.
Whoa.
Amelia, what's the meaning of this?
It means that George has not forgotten,
in spite of everything that keeps us apart.
You will send that piano back.
You will also send back his letters and any trinkets he has given you.
You will make it clear to Captain George Osborne
- that his engagement... - No, don't say it.
...his engagement to you has ended.
Mama.
For pity's sake, Mr. Sedley,
she shall at least keep her piano.
Is the honor of our family completely worthless to you?
That man has made us bankrupt.
Our name can never be united with that of Osborne, never.
Never.
Oh!
So what if old Sedley owes your father a bit of money?
Oh, it's more than a bit, Crawley.
I mean, the old man went down owing Father thousands.
Well, your father's got thousands.
And if they were old friends...
What difference does that make?
Gentlemen, any grown man that loved a woman
would run off and marry her
and say damn to all the old rogues.
- Or am I wrong?
It's not as easy as that.
Young George here called her a wild and desperate flirt.
But the new Mrs. Crawley
is making me a very happy man.
You got married? To Rebecca?
- I did. - Well done, Rawdon.
You dog.
Captain Osborne, sir.
"My dearest George,
my papa has ordered me to return to you these presents
and I am to write to you for the last time.
I release you from an engagement
that is impossible in our present misery.
Goodbye, my love.
I pray to God to bless you always.
Amelia."
Make way!
All these years it never occurred to me
I might not marry Amelia.
- Yes?
Sir. Marching orders.
It was never a decision I made,
nor a decision I ever thought would be unmade.
It's not all about you, George.
You know her.
She'll be...
fine, won't she?
Captain.
But this is wonderful news.
What, that I'm marching away to war?
This is wonderful news for our campaign,
which is not against Napoleon
but against your Aunt Matilda.
So...
Right.
"My dearest Aunt, I married a painter's daughter,
and I'm not ashamed of the union."
Run me through the body if I am.
Dear old booby.
"Before quitting these shores and commencing a battle
which may prove fatal..."
Steady on, Becs.
"...I beseech you, before I depart,
perhaps never to return."
Am I too fast for you?
No, it's just...
Well, it doesn't really sound much like me.
You want your letters to sound like you?
"Dear Aunt, it's jolly warm here. Thanks for the cake."
Perhaps I'm a fool, Becky.
You shouldn't say so.
Mmm.
Ah.
Mmm.
Oh, darling, "beseech" is spelled with two E's.
"I ask nothing from you as the battle begins
but that we part not in anger.
Believe that I love you..."
"...for yourself and not for money's sake.
Let me... Let me see you before I go."
That's not Rawdon.
He never wrote me a letter in his life without asking for money.
But poor Captain Crawley goes to war
and may perish.
I still think it's romantic.
Star-crossed lovers and so on.
Briggs.
Oh, Miss Crawley,
do forgive the dear creatures.
Briggs, sunlight is bad for invalids.
Let us return to the Lord for guidance.
"It is not enough to come forth with a demonstration,
however pathetic,
of the evanescent character of all this world's..."
Never a clever sort of boy, Rawdon,
but a very, very affectionate one.
Affectionate enough to marry the offspring
of an opera girl?
Which term,
though we ladies may blush to admit we know,
really means...
No. Stop.
Don't be cruel.
- Harlot.
Never knows when to stop, does she, Briggs?
I'll do all the talking.
You just stand there and look romantic and suffering and tall.
Right.
- She's here. - Fine.
Oh.
Oh, Arabella.
Please forgive me. It was not my idea
to drag you into our tale of heartbreak and woe.
I can't stay long. Martha is banished to Queen's Crawley.
And I am back in favor and wish to stay that way.
I wrote to you, for I only do as my Rawdon bids.
My heart is his forever.
Yet soon he marches to war.
- Oh. - Arabella.
Imagine.
Oh, I do.
I do.
I believe my proud friend
begins to regret her breach with you,
Captain Crawley.
Oh, let us make a plan.
Oh. Yes, let's.
My point is, a man who can get 10,000 a year
by staying at home
is a fool to risk his life abroad.
I am a soldier, Father.
Honor demands I must obey my country's call.
Honor demands you should not marry
that swindling bankrupt's daughter.
Mr. Sedley is not a swindler.
In any case, Miss Sedley's broken off our engagement.
And then shall all my dreams come true this night.
Come.
200,000 pounds.
Diamonds as big as pigeons' eggs.
You should come to Barbados. You'd love it.
Marry her, boy.
Miss Rhoda.
- Pleasure. - Mr. Osborne.
So...
You won't find in our humble mansion
that splendor of fare
to which you are accustomed, my dear Miss Swartz,
for I'm a plain, humble British merchant.
We are all creatures of modern Britain,
are we not, Miss Swartz?
We take the places we deserve,
not those to which we were born.
I was born in Barbados.
Hmm.
And do you miss it?
The sun shines more often over there,
but the education is superior here.
I hope to leave Miss Pinkerton's
very much an English lady.
Miss Pinkerton's in Chiswick?
The very same. Do you know it?
I wonder if you were ever friendly with a Miss Amelia Sedley.
I was.
The dearest girl. So kind and generous.
- Hmm. - Oh, such friends we were.
What lovely weather we've had this week.
Almost West Indian.
Choose your course, boy.
Miss Swartz, I love Amelia,
and we've been engaged almost all our lives.
How dare you, sir.
"Dare" is not a word to be used on the eve of war
to a gentleman and an officer of the British Army.
I shall say what I like to my own son.
I can cut him off without a shilling if I like.
I know very well that you give me plenty of money, sir.
You tell me so often there's no fear of my forgetting.
I'll have no beggar marriages.
Who told me to love her?
You.
I might indeed have chosen elsewhere
and looked higher perhaps in your society,
but I obeyed you.
And now that her heart is mine, you want me to fling it away,
to punish her, to kill her perhaps.
It is a shame, by heavens.
Will you do as I tell you,
once and for all, sir?
Or will you take your pack
and walk out of this house forever?
I will do as my honor demands.
Perhaps I should have worn the gray.
It's not like you to get nervous.
Perhaps we mistook the place or the time.
Oh, Miss Briggs is a friend indeed.
- Wait. Wait for my signal. - Right.
Now.
- Gad. - Quick.
Come on, Rawdon. Hurry.
It's our one chance.
Let's march on Paris.
Lovely day.
You wish to speak to me.
Speak.
Ah.
Yes. Well, um, just, um...
Uh...
I am sorry that we've had a, uh...
uh, a disagreement.
She's a great girl, Aunt,
and I, uh...
I couldn't be happier and all that.
She will betray you like she betrayed me.
You must know, Aunt.
I truly married for love.
Ha.
Then you're worse than a fool.
She will drag you down into the mire.
You're a lost soul, Rawdon.
I am not without pity.
Attend my lawyer tomorrow.
Driver.
- Why did you get down? - Because she told me to.
You could have ridden with her all the way back to the house.
Squired her indoors, pushed your advantage.
Oh, no. I couldn't leave you to get home on your own.
Rawdon, how can you not have realized
that I am perfectly capable
of being left to do anything by myself?
Unlike me, you mean.
She bade me go to her lawyers in the morning,
where there will be something for me.
Now...
Clever booby.
George.
I've been walking all night.
You are a true friend and a true gentleman, Dobbin,
and I am ashamed of how far I lag behind you.
I beg to impose on your friendship
on the matter of the greatest importance.
A sight I never thought to see.
Dobbin, I will do the right thing.
Dearest Emmy.
Dearest wife.
What's this? Stop.
Stop. Emmy, please, come inside. Please.
Stand back, sir, for pity's sake.
It seems to me
that for all the happiest moments of my life
you have been there.
Did you have a friend to show you the same kindness
on the eve of your wedding?
I was that fool who rushes in to learn
where battalions of angels fear to tread.
But you are happy, Becky.
Financially, there's room for improvement.
But you really love him.
Of course.
Though we are still honeymooning.
There's plenty of time for the scales to fall from our eyes.
I can't remember a time before I loved George.
He's always been there.
He's so good. As you are.
I could be good. I could be very good on 5,000 a year.
Will all be well, Becky, in the end?
What can prevent it?
Morning.
You shall be the prettiest bride
in the whole world.
I only wish my family were here.
I've always managed without one of those.
Now we have husbands instead.
And so I ask again,
when war will soon break over our heads,
who are you to play with two young people's affections
and break their hearts?
I helped that villain's father
when he had not a shilling to his name.
I'd rather see my daughter dead at my feet
than married to the son of an ungrateful enemy.
If you do not give her your consent, sir,
it will be her loving duty before God to marry without it.
Together, you and I,
we can stop this marriage. She listens to you.
I cannot stand in the way of your daughter's happiness.
Am I to have power over nothing in this world, Captain Dobbin?
None of us has power over love, sir.
-Mistaken?
No, certainly.
I see.
Your aunt was quite clear.
Clear.
Yes. Always.
Please convey my thanks to her.
Dearly beloved,
we are gathered here in the sight of God
and in the face of this congregation...
to join together this man and this woman
in holy matrimony.
...and is commended of Saint Paul
to be honorable among all men.
Therefore, if any man can show any just cause
why they may not lawfully be joined together...
let him now speak
or else hereafter forever hold his peace.
Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife?
I will.
Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband?
I will.
I pronounce that they be man and wife together.
- May I kiss the bride, too? - Once.
And now it's your turn, William.
Thank you...
for everything you have done to bring us to this happy day.
Twenty pounds.
And a letter from her lawyer saying "please leave us alone now."
My entire legacy from Aunt Matilda.
Becs, it's not even enough to cover the rent.
Oh, we don't want to be paying that.
We don't need the place anyway.
- No? We don't? - Mm-hmm.
- Why not? - Becky, how will we manage
now we are both married women but for an instant
before the war carries our menfolk away?
- Nonsense. We'll go with them. - Oh?
No, no. I don't think that's a good idea.
Why not? Plenty of officers take their wives.
Oh, George, don't let us be parted.
Ah, a new adventure
in which Amelia invades the low countries.
Capital.
Ah. Driver.
And so, Captain Dobbin,
you've labored long and hard to achieve something
I cannot believe you really want.
I am... I'm very happy for them both.
Becky.
- Shall we? - Thank you, my love.
♪ I'd make wine...