Tonight, Becky works out how to live well on nothing a year.
It's easy. It's Vanity Fair,
a world where everyone is striving
for what is not worth having.
Whoo!
- Here!
Lady... Crawley.
No.
- Lady Elizabeth Crawley.
Lady Betsey Crawley...
née Horrocks.
Ideas above your station, miss?
Begging your pardon, sir.
Where are you going?
- Come back here.
Don't run away from me. What are you doing?
You won't outrun me.
I'm as fit as a fiddle, I am.
Come here and show me then.
I bloody will if you stand, till...
Sir Pitt?
Sir Pitt!
I wouldn't ask, Mrs. Crawley,
but I'm late with the school fees.
Children! Such an expensive hobby.
I shall rap the naughty colonel's knuckles for you.
Why is the child downstairs?
Papa wants me.
He never met my boy.
And now Father's dead.
Sir Pitt gone!
The dear old soul.
He ran a good race, my love.
Their milk and butter bill alone comes to 200 pounds.
How can I harass her for money now,
while the house is in mourning?
Husband, you'll ruin us for the sake of a pretty smile.
My dear Lord Steyne,
I don't dare hope
that we will get more than a ha'penny.
All Sir Pitt's estate goes to the older son, obviously,
though he is a frightful miser
and the most complete nincompoop you ever saw.
Though I suppose nincompoopery runs in the family.
Becky!
My husband is a clever old stick in his way, I know.
A nincompoop clever enough to win a prize like you, dear lady.
Poor blameless soul.
It's because of me he was cut off without a penny.
Why else would we be sat here
sewing our mourning clothes out of old curtain?
I wonder if my little darling Rawdy would like a bit of fresh air.
My virtue is quite safe.
Is it not, your lordship?
Quite.
- Come along, Rawdy.
When the boy goes to school,
you should get rid of the old maid.
My loyal sheepdog protects my reputation.
Repelling all borders?
Even a friend of His Majesty?
Perhaps not quite all.
Ah.
How much do they please you?
Well enough.
Well enough to wear for the king?
But this is so sudden.
Mrs. Crawley, are you mine?
I'll take that as a yes.
Lord Steyne, please forgive me,
I cannot be rid of Miss Briggs
because my feckless husband owes her money.
What? How so?
She came to us with a legacy of...
of 1,200 pounds from his aunt,
and within a month,
Rawdon had it off the poor and trusting thing,
and now the villain has gone and spent it.
Hmm. What a clever little monkey it is,
to extract diamonds from one pocket
and cash from the other.
On her own with him now.
I don't mind how she gets it,
as long as she pays our wages with it.
"Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live
and is full of misery.
He cometh up and is cut down like a flower.
He fleeth, as it were, a shadow.
We brought nothing into this world,
and it is certain we carry nothing out.
The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away.
Blessed be the name of the Lord."
Welcome. Welcome.
Welcome, dear guests, to our house.
My dear Lady Crawley.
Our ancestors could hope
for no more gracious chatelaine than you.
Welcome.
Thank you for coming.
The worst of it is,
the old man has been letting the servants get away with murder.
The standards have been allowed to slip.
Rack and ruin. Look at these accounts!
The entire estate is tumbling about our ears.
Thieves, one and all.
You bring a breath of fresh air, Lady Crawley!
Oh, for the dear innocent days before I inherited all this.
I simply had no idea how much money it costs to be rich.
I'll have to cut round the moth holes
with some of them.
All I got was a hundred pounds.
And a speech about how poor he is.
"I simply had no idea how much money it costs to be rich!"
I used to thrash my brother at Eton,
even though he was older than me.
Didn't thrash him hard enough!
We were foolish to hope your brother would be generous.
Queen's Crawley would've been yours, not Martha's,
if you'd have married my father.
Oh, dear, impossible!
Fear not, husband.
I can live well on nothing a year.
See how they like us now they're in charge.
Now they think we know our place.
Your place is always the next place.
Very good! You've been paying attention.
- Do you want to know the plan? - Mm.
Lord Steyne.
No, don't make that face, Rawdon, please.
The new king just appointed him Master of the Powder Closet.
It means our friend
is one of the most important lords of the land.
It means he has the ear of His Majesty.
Think of it!
Think of the opportunities for us both.
Don't fly too high, Becky.
You'll leave the rest of us behind.
No call for them these days, watercolors.
I know I'm not in the first rank of artists, but...
They all want silhouettes now.
Right.
That shawl you're wearing...
It was a present.
So many, Mrs. Nathan?
His Majesty is famous for his fondness for feathers.
Then I can make no objection.
Mrs. Nathan, make room for my diamonds!
Your Majesty.
Good morning.
Have you been buying things?
For Georgy.
Books and so on.
He has a slight indigestion.
What? Daffy's Elixir?
To help him sleep.
You had it. So did Jos. It did you no harm.
It is poison!
Poison?
So this is the language you use to your own mother.
You're always arguing.
Well, you shall have no supper tonight,
for I shall be busy being dragged by the hair
to the Old Bailey.
- Georgy. - Where your mother
will have me in the dock as a murderess.
I have met with misfortunes.
I'm sorry, Mama.
I have sunk low in my life. My servants are gone.
I go everywhere on foot, my life is in ruins,
but at least I never was a murderess,
so thank you for that news.
Please don't let us argue.
I'm not the one who's arguing.
Mother, stop.
Ah, the Reverend Binny's come for tea.
Gad!
Mr. Binny is come to talk about George's education.
He is too young.
Oh, just our own little school at the vicarage.
Perhaps George would benefit
from the society of other young gentlemen.
I mean to educate him at home.
I have bought books.
Bought books?
Latin, mathematics...
I confess I am a beginner myself.
Mr. Binny...
Maybe I could interest you in...?
Oh, I already have enough coal, more than enough.
Thank you, sir.
Coal? No.
Those days are past. I'm in wine now.
Fine Madeiras, vintage ports.
I abstain from the strong spirits,
as I believe the Lord prefers.
Oh no. Come, I'm sure the good Lord approves.
You spoil that child.
You should get down on your knees and pray to God
to cleanse your wicked and ungrateful heart.
You and your selfish brother both.
Jos? What has Jos done?
A half-decent claret can travel the world.
Mm!
Oh! Vile!
No. Come along.
That's not wine, it's vinegar!
I give my father a perfectly good allowance
to just sit still and not make a mess,
and now he's a wine merchant! Hah!
The kindly major has another 30 cases in the cellar.
Persuaded the governor and half the regiments to order it, too.
I am a fool who meant to be kind.
Well, Dob, I'm sure your name is mud through all of Bengal.
I say, Dob.
That young lady's giving us the most killing look.
Will you look at my sister enter a room?
Is Glorvina not a heartbreaker, Major Dobbin?
Hah. I'm much too battered and old for such a fine lady.
Nonsense. She's perfect for you! Wait now.
- When the music begins... - I am the Magistrate of Bengal.
Please, you'll be doing me the most enormous favor.
I do not dance!
A fine figure of a woman, is she not?
She'd be worthy of the major.
Compare my sister with that poor Mrs. Osborne,
who couldn't say boo to a goose.
I'll be sending for a new hat, so I will.
Oh, my darling.
Whichever Lady Crawley wore that particular brocade,
she cannot possibly have looked as adorable in it as you do.
It's not, um...?
If you can't carry it off, nobody can.
Do I know those splendid jewels?
Hired, darling, of course.
Here, let me.
What a fine country we are,
where a little governess may meet a king.
This, madam, is the reason you were put on God's earth.
Will Mama ever come back?
Of course, silly!
Mrs. Crawley will put all the fine ladies to shame,
as usual.
Mrs. Crawley. Charming.
There will be a great deal of waiting about.
We don't mind.
I simply fear that you may find
the whole event an enormous waste of time, Mrs. Crawley.
I am the daughter of a painter and an opera girl.
I've never hidden it.
But today, my lord,
I put it behind me forever.
Always the charming optimist.
We shan't let his wicked lordship
dampen our mood, shall we, Lady Steyne?
Confound his politics.
Frustrate his knavish tricks.
God save the king!
Yes.
Clever little thing.
Lord and Lady Castlemouldy.
Colonel and Mrs. Brown.
Lord and Lady Southwell.
Lord and Lady...
Remembering our wedding day, Becs?
Don't distract me.
You in your muslin, your straw bonnet.
Sir Thomas and Lady Jones.
The Marquis and Marchioness Steyne.
Colonel and Mrs. Crawley.
I have arrived.
My lord.
Mrs. Crawley. The cat who got the cream. Hmm?
Was it to your taste?
It was the most wonderful day of my life.
Thank you, sir.
Hmm. And now at last
does the little woman have everything she wants?
All I ever wanted
is to be accounted a respectable lady.
Aim higher.
Ghastly party. You missed nothing.
Wish I'd come straight home.
Oh, we should get you some lessons.
Think how splendid it would be
if our guests found us playing duets.
I don't blame you for wanting to shine in that company.
You were born to shine there.
But, Becky...
henceforward you will refuse all invitations
that come only for yourself.
I will escort you every time you go out.
But you hate parties!
You will entertain only in my company.
Oh, my dear. How gallant you are.
How lovely that sounds. How much pleasanter it is
to have you beside me than silly old Briggs!
It will be like when we were first married.
How happy we shall be.
Rawdon, how happy we shall always be.
So William is to be married
and her sister is the very person
destined to ensure Major Dobbin's happiness.
There. Is that not good news
from my old friend Mrs. O'Dowd?
Yes.
The Reverend Mr. Binny seems very fond of you.
You know George can never be replaced in my heart.
Oh, Georgy, why don't you eat?
Too many bones.
And gristle, yes.
Oh!
So now I mean to murder him by choking, do I?
Louisa.
Bones and gristle is what you get
when you never manage to pay the butcher or the grocer.
We must try, Louisa,
to retain our kind family feelings in spite of our situation.
There's our Georgy who might be rich,
with a gold watch and chain, but for her selfishness.
There's our son who's deserted his father in his old age.
Jos!
Has left my dear, dear old man without a shilling
and we shall end in the workhouse.
- I shall write to Jos now. - Please don't bother him.
He's not unkind, perhaps careless.
Emmy, please, stop! Stop!
Jos sends me a check as regular as clockwork.
How else was I to fund the coal business
or the wine business?
So all the money Jos sends...
Goes to pay off a moneylender in the city.
Shall I be rich, Mama?
Shall I have a pony?
Oh.
Oh, dear God. Have mercy upon me.
Give me the strength to bear this trial.
Is that Aunt Jane come to take me away?
Can I have a pony?
You can have as many ponies as you like.
Georgy!
Say goodbye to your mother.
Bye-bye, Mama! I may visit you soon.
Oh!
- No, no, no, no, no.
Come on.
A dinner invitation? But what a dinner!
This is the first day of the rest of my life!
Well, being presented to the king...
No, no, that was just a steppingstone.
This is the prize, Briggs.
I am launched onto the guest list
for the greatest houses in London.
Oh! Nothing is ever enough for you!
What to wear? Oh, what to wear, Briggs!
I don't know!
We could alter the blue silk.
What are you doing?
I'm an Indian chief.
Give me that, you naughty boy.
- Oh! - There, there.
Shush. Don't cry.
I hate you.
The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you.
Becky, don't.
What do you know about how to be a mother?
- My Lord Steyne.
- Oh, Briggs, hold the fort! - Come on, Rawdy! Quickly!
Pride of place, I see.
Oh, yes, well...
Mrs. Crawley begs your pardon...
May I ask you, Miss Briggs, a rather personal question?
What an accomplished little devil it is.
She beats all the women I've ever seen
in all the course of a well-spent life.
Miss Briggs? Surely not!
No, madam. You.
You are the mistress of lies.
Mm-hmm.
And your husband is a much cleverer fellow
than I thought.
Miss Briggs told you we still owe her 600 pounds.
Slightly less than the 1,200 you took from me.
A wicked falsehood, my lord.
But...
you don't know all I have to suffer and bear in silence.
It was my husband, by savage threats,
who forced me to double my request.
Pardon the wrong,
and pity a miserable, miserable woman.
This time, Rebecca,
pay the silly trout back.
I have two other suggestions.
- Suggestions, my lord? - Conditions.
Your son will go away to school.
The cost will be met.
The sheepdog will find another position.
I have one in mind.
You're more than generous.
Dear lady,
I merely clear obstacles from our primrose path.
It's a most kind offer from a great friend of the family.
But hang it, Becky, his carriage is always at our door!
- And people love to talk. - Let them!
He is a nobleman of the greatest station and talents.
Master of the Powder Closet!
I don't even know what that is.
I shall miss him terribly.
Who?
Our son!
I wish you cared for Rawdy just a little more.
What a muddleheaded thing to say.
He can come home on Sundays.
Free trade, that's the answer.
But they won't wear it in the shires, my lord.
We need to take advantage of our dominance in Europe.
Don't you agree, Colonel Crawley?
- Hmm? - As a veteran of Waterloo.
I-I was at Waterloo myself.
I could tell you a tale or two!
The dearest little puffed sleeves, two layers,
and the suspicion, ladies, of a waist.
Darts and everything!
I believe our shoulders are soon to get much wider,
which I scarcely think will flatter most of us.
A monstrous infatuation.
A gross insult to ladies of rank.
Oh God, Mama! She's coming.
I don't know what the world's coming to, to be sure.
Lady Blanche. Lady Bareacres.
Possibly you don't remember me from Brussels.
I neither remember you, madam,
nor wish now to resume our intercourse.
The barefaced cheek of it.
They look at you with rage in their hearts.
They look at me with pity.
But they would change places with either of us
in an instant.
Your youth, my wealth.
Will you play for me?
Awful weather for this time of year.
Awful!
As though the world were coming to an end.
You determined long ago
that nothing should stand in your way.
Not birth, not money, nor the opinions of others.
I have brains and talent, which should be enough.
Perhaps so.
In another world from this one.
Play on.
I wonder how long I must wait
for my guests to congratulate me
on the standards of music and beauty in my house.
Bravo. Yes.
You are the only real lady in London.
Thank you.
Tell me, my dear,
do you love your husband?
Perhaps not as much as once I did.
Let nothing come between you.
Children grow old, friends grow cold.
But husbands endure,
if we let them.
I could kill them all, the pinch-faced old harpies!
Dearest, really, you can't force them to like me.
You are worth a hundred of one of them.
Better than being ignored. Come on, let's go home.
No, I'll... I'll walk.
I need the fresh air.
I'll be waiting for you.
Booby.
Who's there?
Begging your pardon, Colonel.
Oh God. Bailiffs.
How much is it this time?
136 pounds, six shillings and eight pence,
at the suit of Mrs. Nathan, the dressmaker.
Colonel Crawley, as I live and breathe!
There's five gents here in the coffee room,
or a doctor of divinity upstairs.
Very kind, Mr. Moss, but no thank you. I'll turn in.
Pen and ink for your letter, sir?
I won't disturb her tonight.
I'll write to my wife in the morning.
Very well. This way, sir.
Dear Becky, I hope you slept well.
Don't be alarmed when I don't bring you
a chocolate this morning.
Last night I was nabbed again.
You'll find 70 pounds in my desk.
Please drive to Mrs. Nathan's
and ask her to give us more time.
And please bring me some clean clothes.
Yours in haste.
P.S. Don't be scared. But come soon and release me.
Morning, Colonel.
You'll be out of here in two shakes of a stick, sir.
Rebecca, where are you hiding?
Still no letter for me?
Sorry, Colonel.
Bring me pen and ink again.
Dear God, Rawdon.
For not even 130 pounds?
Have you, um...?
The bill is paid.
I believe that means you're free to go.
I am forever in your debt.
Rebecca...
You wrote to her first?
Never replied.
Just get home, old boy.
I'm innocent.
Before God, husband, I am innocent.
- Tell him, say it! - Innocent?
When every trinket you wear on your body I gave to you?
Oh, I see what this is.
The pair of you mean to lay a trap for me
to con me out of even more money
than the thousands of pounds
I've already given to this whore,
which no doubt, Colonel Crawley,
you have already spent.
Liar.
You don't frighten me.
Coward.
Make way, sir.
Oh!
Villain.
How could I turn our patron away?
Take them off.
All of them.
Ow!
Pimp.
Get out of my house!
Where's the key?
Lost.
Don't...
Thousands!
Good God.
A hundred pound of this would've made me a free man.
I shall pay Briggs.
She was always kind to the boy.
The rest I shall send back to your...
To him.
No.
Becky...
I always shared everything with you.
Believe I loved you.
You don't even love your own child.
♪ Love will tear us apart...