Hard Times (1994) - full transcript

Facts!

What I want is facts.

Nothing but facts.

Facts alone are what
are wanted in life.

Plant nothing but facts

and root out everything else.

This is the principle
on which your own master,

Mr M'Choakumchild here,
agrees,

and on which I've brought up
my own children.

And it's the principle
on which you will be
brought up.

Girl number 18.



Who are you?

-Sissy Jupe, sir.
-Sissy?

Sissy isn't a name.

-My father calls me Sissy.
-GRADGRIND:
Well, he mustn't!

What does your father do?

He belongs to the circus.

He looks after horses
and other things.

He's a veterinary surgeon,
a farrier, a horse-breaker.

Give me a definition
of a horse.

Girl number 18
unable to define a horse.

Bitzer, define a horse.

Quadruped. Graminivorous.

Forty teeth,
namely, 24 grinders,

four eyeteeth and 12 incisive.



Sheds coat in the spring.

In marshy country,
sheds hooves, too.

Hoofs hard, but requiring
to be shod with iron.

Age known
by marks in mouth.

Girl number 18,
now you know what a horse is.

Very well.

We're training you
to be people of fact,

who only live by facts

mathematical and scientific,

which are susceptible of proof
and demonstration.

This is a great discovery,
children.

A new principle of life.

I intend you children
to be models,

just as my children are models
of this exciting new world.

Louisa?

Tom?

Is it you?

LOUISA: Yes, Father.

In the name
of idleness and folly,
what are you doing here?

I wanted to see
what it was like.

What it was like?

TOM: It's a rehearsal.

GRADGRIND:
Tom, though I have
the fact before me,

I can't believe you would
have brought your sister
to a scene like this.

I brought him, Father.

I'm sorry to hear it.

It makes Tom no better
and you worse.

With the whole of science
open to you,

how could you
bring yourself to this?

I was tired.

Tired of what?

I don't know.

What would your friends
say, Louisa?

I haven't any, Father.

What will Mr Bounderby say?

You know he's
visiting us today.

I hadn't shoes to my feet.

I passed my day in a ditch
and the night in a pigsty.

That's how I spent
my 10th birthday,
Mrs Gradgrind.

Not that a ditch
was new to me.
I was born in a ditch.

A dry ditch, I hope,
Mr Bounderby?

No! A wet one, ma'am!

[SCOFFS]

A foot of water in it!

That's enough to give
a baby a cold.

Cold? Oh, I was born with
inflammation of the lungs.

I was the most
miserable little wretch
you've ever seen.

How I got through it,
I don't know.

But I'm
a determined character,

so here I am,
Mrs Gradgrind.

Yes, here you are,
Mr Bounderby.

I'm sure your mother
meant well.

My mother, ma'am? Heh.

Bolted!

She left me to my grandmother,
who was the worst hag
that ever lived.

She could drink
14 glasses of gin
before breakfast.

She kept me in an egg box.

What did you do?

Became a vagabond.

Instead of one old woman
knocking me about,

everybody knocked me about.
[CHUCKLES]

I learned to read
under the direction
of a drunken cripple

who was a convicted thief
and an incorrigible liar.

But I pulled through,
and became Josiah Bounderby
of Coketown.

Banker, merchant,

manufacturer. [CHUCKLES]

Well, here's Mr Bounderby.

Tell him.

Now wait a bit, heh.

What's the matter, Louisa?

Father caught us
looking at the circus.

Mrs Gradgrind, they'll be
reading poetry next.

I wish I'd never had a family,
Mr Gradgrind.

Then what would you have done?

Oh, why couldn't your children
look at the shells
and minerals and things?

Why do you want
to know about circuses?

Haven't you got
enough facts already?

I couldn't keep half
the facts you've got
in your heads.

Oh, go and learn
something gological.

Bounderby,

I'm puzzled.

My whole emphasis
has been on scientific fact,
reason.

But it seems unreason's
crept in, Gradgrind.

Why else would they want
to go and look and a bundle
of circus vagabonds?

I can't explain it.

Perhaps they found
a book of fiction.

A novel. No,
I've taken precautions.

Of course, these circus folk
are everywhere.

There was one in school today.

-A circus person?
-Cecilia Jupe.

Mrs Gradgrind,
did you admit her?

Is that wrong, too?

She came to the house.

She wanted to go to the school
while she was here.

You wanted girls
to go to the school.

-Yes.
-Turn her out, sir.

She could be a bad influence.

You may be right, Josiah.

Do it at once.
No second thoughts.

When I ran away
from my egg box,
I did it at once.

No.

We'll see the girl's father

and then decide.

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

Ah, there you are, Louisa,

young Tom.

So this is where
you've been hiding yourselves.

[CHUCKLES]

Calm yourselves.

Never fear.

Now, I've managed
to square it with your father,

and he isn't angry any more.

Well, Louisa.

I think that's worth
a little kiss, isn't it?

You can take one,
Mr Bounderby.

Always my pet,
aren't you, Louisa?

Goodbye, my dear.

That's very good.

What are you doing, Loo?
You'll rub a hole
in your face.

You can cut it out
with your penknife
if you like, Tom.

I wouldn't cry.

Psst! Guvnor.

[WHISPERING]
Two gentlemen about Jupe.

MAN: Squires. [CHUCKLES]

Do you, uh...

Do you know Mr Jupe well?

Never set eyes on the man
in my life.

You never will, squire.

He's gone, cut out.

Do you mean
he's deserted his daughter?

Well, he was
goosed last night,

booed, booed the night before.

Why?

Well, he's all used up.

He couldn't make people
laugh no more.

Eh, it's
a hard thing, squires,
'cause he loved Sissy so,

and it cut him deep
knowing that she knew
that he'd failed.

Oh, this is good, Gradgrind.

A man so fond of his daughter
he runs away from her!

Of course, my mother
run away from me.

I'm not surprised.

But I call a spade a spade.

And I call this man Jupe
a rogue and a vagabond!

It's all the same to us
if he is or he isn't.

But, squire, don't mouth it
again in this place.

Why did you come to see him?

To tell him Cecilia Jupe
was not a suitable pupil
for the school.

However, if her father
really has left her...

What are you thinking
about, Gradgrind?

Where is she now?

Jupe sent her on an errand,
so he could go quiet, like.

I might have something
to propose to her.

SISSY: Where's Father? Father!
Where's Father?

Where's Father?
Have you seen him?

His clothes aren't there.
Everything's gone.

Mr Sleary,
I can't find my father!

He's gone, hasn't he?

What will happen to him
without me?

He has gone!
He has gone!
He has gone!

[CRYING]

No, this is all
a waste of time, no.

Let the girl
understand the facts.

Girl, your father
has deserted you.

You must never expect
to see him again
as long as you live.

[WAILING]

Squire, we're
very good-natured folk,

but we're quick like
in our actions.

If you don't drop it,
I won't answer for us!

Let us just say
Mr Jupe has gone away,

and he's not expected
to return.

I am willing
to take care of you, Jupe,

and to educate you.

No! Wait a bit, Gradgrind!

You'll be an example to
Louisa of what happens

when unbridled imagination
is let loose.

Anyway,
it's a sad sort of a business.

I'm willing to educate
and provide for you, Jupe,

but you'll have to decide now.

If you come with me,

you mustn't communicate
with any of your friends
ever again.

I...

I'll put in my word, squire.

Sissy, you can be apprenticed
with us if you like.

You know the nature
of the work.

We'll be your family

and I'll be your father.

Well, I don't pretend
to be an angel,

but, good temper, bad temper,

I've never done a horse
an injury yet.

Someone help me.

Jupe, I understand
your father wanted you

to have a sound education.

When he comes back,

how will my father find me
if I go away?

GRADGRIND:
Mr Sleary will tell him.

You'll have no difficulty
finding Tom Gradgrind
of Coketown.

Let me go.

Let me go
before my heart breaks.

[CHOMPING AND SCRAPING]

You're not eating
this morning, Mr Bounderby.

I was thinking
about Tom Gradgrind
and that acrobat girl.

No good will come of it.

The little puss will get
nothing out of
such companionship.

You're speaking
of Miss Gradgrind?

Yes, Mrs Sparsit,
I was speaking of Louisa.

Well you said little puss

and there were
two little girls involved...

Louisa, Louisa, Louisa.

You're quite another father
to Louisa, sir.

If you'd said
I was a father to young Tom,

you'd be nearer the mark.

I'm going to take him
into my office, ma'am.

When he's finished
his education?

I never had none.

You, on the other hand,

went to the Italian opera

-in satin!
-[CHUCKLES]

Come, confess it, ma'am.

You were born
in the lap of luxury.

I don't deny it, sir.

You were in crack society,
hmm? Hmm.

Devilish high society.

It's true, sir.

And now you are housekeeper
to Josiah Bounderby

at £100 a year.

[LAUGHS UNPLEASANTLY]

Jupe, when
you're not at school,

I'll employ you to look
after Mrs Gradgrind
who's something of an invalid.

Oh, poor lady.

From this moment,
your history begins.

You know, you're completely
ignorant at present.

Yes, sir. Very.

Good. It gives me the chance
to educate you myself.

I've heard you've been
in the habit of reading
to your father.

And Merrylegs.

Never mind Merrylegs, Jupe.

Dogs don't understand books.

Now, what sort of books
did you like to read
to your father?

About fairies and dwarves
and hunchbacks

-and genies and goblins...
-That's enough, child.

I can see I shall have to
take you in hand,
and the sooner, the better.

Now, Jupe,

what's the first principle
of political economy?

To do unto others as I would
that they should do unto me.

No, child,
that isn't the right answer.

Let's try again.

Hmm, you've heard
of national prosperity?

Natural prosperity...

National prosperity, Jupe.
National.

Now, let's say this room
is the nation,

and it's filled
with 50 millions of money.

Would you say
this is a prosperous nation?

I don't know.

Fifty millions, Jupe.

Why don't you know?

Well, I don't know if it's
a prosperous nation or not.

Unless I knew
who had the money

and whether any of it
was mine.

No.

Let's try again.

Say this room is a huge town

and it has
a million inhabitants,

and only 25 of them have
starved in the streets
in a year.

What would you say
about that proportion?

I'd say it was hard
on those who had starved,

whether the others
were a million

or a million million.

Tsk. No, child,
that's not what I asked.

I asked about the proportion.

Oh. You want stutterings.

Stutterings?

Statistics.

I always call them stutterings

because they reminded me
of stuttering, somehow.

Yes, statistics.

Let's examine statistics.

Um...

In a given time, say,

100,000 persons went to sea

and only 500 of 'em
drowned in a year.

What is the percentage?

SISSY: Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing to the relatives
and friends of the people
who were killed.

-[BELL RINGS IN DISTANCE]
-MRS GRADGRIND: Mr Gradgrind.

Mrs Gradgrind.

Jupe...

Jupe, I'm disappointed.

Oh, Miss Louisa,
I'll never learn.

I try, but I'll never.

I'd like to be you,
Miss Louisa.

Why? Why should
anyone want to be me?

Oh, but I'm so stupid.

It's a hard thing
being a politician, Josiah.

I sometimes wonder
if it's worth it.

Now, wait a bit!
You mustn't weaken, Tom.

The Conservative Party
needs you.

It's grown soft.
I see it all about me.

My millhands
expect to be set up
in a coach and six

and dine on turtle soup
and venison with a gold spoon.

I think turtle soup
and venison's
London fare, Josiah.

MRS GRADGRIND:
How will I get on when you
go back there, Mr Gradgrind?

The same as always, madam.

And now you'll have Jupe.

You've got
healing hands, girl,
healing hands.

Mrs Gradgrind,
do you know if Mr Gradgrind

has had word from
Mr Sleary or my father?

He'd have told you if he had.

He's not a man
who withholds facts.

No, Mrs Gradgrind.

Mmm, that's a comfort.

Louisa should do this,
but she won't.

I don't know
what to do with the girl.

I wish I'd never had a family,
then they would have
appreciated me.

[DOOR OPENS]

I can't sleep.
I want to talk, Loo.

What about, Tom?

I'm sick of my life, Loo.

I hate everybody except you.

You don't hate Sissy, Tom.

-She hates me.
-She doesn't.

She must hate
the whole bunch of us.

She's already getting
as heavy as I am.

As we are.

I'm a donkey, I know.

I'd just like
to kick like one.

Not me, Tom?

No, not you, Loo.
I wouldn't hurt you.

I don't know
what I'd do without you.

I can't make you laugh, Tom.

I can't make you.

It's a great pity
for both of us.

You're a girl, Loo.

Girls come out of it
better than boys.

You're a dear brother, Tom.

I wish I could collect
all the facts in the world

and blow them up all together.

When I go to work
for old Bounderby,
I'll enjoy myself.

Mr Bounderby thinks
like Father thinks.

I know how to smooth
old Bounderby.

You're his little pet.

When he says something
I don't like, I'll say,

"My sister will be very hurt,
Mr Bounderby.

"She's always saying
how nice you are to me."

That'll bring him around.

Look at the sparks.

See how they turn white
and die.

It makes me think how
short my life will be

and how little
I expect to do with it.

[TRAIN DEPARTING]

I'm sorry I didn't
see you coming home
last night, Rachel.

I missed you.

It's all a muddle.
She's come back again.

-[CLATTERING IN BACKGROUND]
-Ah, it's the looms,
Mrs Sparsit.

The sound of money, ma'am.

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

One of the hands
to see you, sir.
Stephen Blackpool.

Oh, right, uh...

What's the matter
with you, lad, eh?

It's not about money,
is it, huh?

You were never one of
the unreasonable ones.

Nothing like that, sir.

Good. Well, then,
out with it, lad.

I've come to ask your advice.

I married, Easter Monday,
19 years ago.

She was a young lass.
She went bad soon after.

I remember.

Took to drink, eh?

Left off work,

sold the furniture,
pawned the clothes,
left you knee-deep in debt.

I was very patient
with her, sir.

Well, more fool you.
Eh, Mrs Sparsit?

I tried this, tried that.

She left me, she come back.

I paid her to keep
away from me.

Five years, she's been gone.
Last night,
she came back again.

Was it an unequal marriage,
sir, in your ages?

No, ma'am.
I was 21, she was 20.

I thought it might have been,

the marriage being
so miserable.

I've come to ask, sir,

how I can get rid
of this woman.

I can't bear it any more.

You married
for better or worse.

If I hurt her,
there's a law to punish me.

Of course.

If I left her,
there's a law to punish me.

Of course.

If I marry someone else,
there's a law to punish me.

Of course.

If I lived with another woman
without marrying her,

there's a law to punish us
and every child that we had.

Most certainly.

Well, in God's name, sir,

show me a law
that can help me.

Well, there is one,

but you'd never be able
to afford it.

No, it'd cost you £1,500
or £2,000 to get rid of her.

Not for the likes of you, lad.

You've got her forever

for better or worse.

[BREATHING HEAVILY]

RACHEL: She's sleeping now.

The landlady came around
for me at dinnertime,

said she needed looking to.

Why do it, lass?

Because we were friends
when we were young girls,

and you were courting her.

[BREATHING HEAVILY]

I've to give her
a teaspoon at three.

-I'll do it.
-No.

It has to be done carefully.
It's poisonous stuff.

You're too tired.

Oh, Rachel.

Rachel.

[GASPS]

[GRUNTS]

Oh, I need a drink.

[BREATHING RAGGEDLY]

-Stephen!
-No, ahh!

-[GRUNTING]
-No!

No!

No!

No! No!

[GRUNTING]

It's lucky I woke up in time.

Aye. Lucky, lass.
I've always been lucky.

RACHEL: No, you're not lucky,

but be thankful,
she didn't drink it.

So that she can recover
and take my last penny

and then leave again,
then return again,

then leave again.

What's going to happen to us?

We'll grow older, lass.

We'll all grow older.

Do you remember how we walked
up these stairs to the study

the first day
you came here, Cecilia?

Yes, sir.

Cecilia, I must tell you,

the result of your education

has been
a great disappointment to me.

You are below the mark.

I'm sorry, sir.
I tried very hard.

Yes,

I believe you have tried hard.

No fault there.

I thought sometimes I tried
too hard to learn too much.

And if I'd been allowed
to try less...

No, no.

You followed the system.

I can only suppose
you began too late.

I'm sorry, sir.

I wish I could have
done better in return
for all your kindness.

No.

No, I've no complaints.

No complaints.

You're an affectionate
young woman, yes.

And we must make that do.

You've been a great help
to Mrs Gradgrind
and the family

while I've been away
in London.

I sometimes think

my being an MP
was not an unmixed blessing.

Yours is important work, sir.

Thank you, Cecilia.

I, um...

I hope you've been happy here,
and will want to stay.

Yes, sir, until my father...

Your father?

You still hope he'll return?

MRS GRADGRIND:
Cecilia, come here, dear.
I need you.

Tom!

Has Father said anything
to you, Loo?

No, he wants to
talk to me tonight.

He's been with Bounderby
for hours.

You are fond of me,
aren't you, Loo?

Yes, Tom.

Though you don't come
and see me often enough.

You're always in my thoughts.

You could do something.

It would be
splendid for me if...

No, you'll find out
soon enough.

I can't stay.
I have to meet some fellows.

Loo, you won't forget
how fond you are of me?

I won't forget.

Louisa, I've been talking
with Mr Bounderby.

Yes, Father.

Well...

You're a woman now, Louisa.

Yes, Father.

You look cold, Louisa.
Are you ill?

No, I'm well, Father.

And cheerful?

As cheerful as I usually am.

Good.

Louisa, I have something
serious to talk to you about.

Fortunately, I have complete
confidence in your good sense.

You're not impulsive.

You view everything
on the grounds of reason
and calculation.

Louisa,

Mr Bounderby
wishes to marry you.

He wants to marry you.

I hear you, Father.

He, uh...

He begged me to ask you.

Father, do you think
I love Mr Bounderby?

I really don't know, child.

Are you asking me
to love Mr Bounderby?

No. I'm asking nothing.

Does Mr Bounderby
ask me to love him?

Well,

it's difficult to answer that.

Why, Father?

Because the reply depends

on the sense in which
we use the word "love".

Mr Bounderby wouldn't
insult you by pretending
anything sentimental,

or expecting anything
sentimental in return.

So the word "love" may be
a little misplaced.

What word should I use
instead, Father?

You should only consider
the facts of the case,

not idle fancies.

You are, in round figures,
20 years old

and Mr Bounderby
is in his 50s,

so there is a gap between you
in years, but not in income.

The fact is, a large number
of marriages in England

are between men and women
of unequal ages.

In three-quarters
of the instances,
the older party is the groom.

It's the same in British India
and parts of China.

You still haven't answered
my question, Father.

What word should I use
instead of "love"?

The word should never
come into the matter, child.

I repeat,
you should only consider
the facts of the case.

"Does Mr Bounderby
ask me to marry him?"
Yes, he does.

So the sole
remaining question is,

"Shall I marry him?"

The rest, dear Louisa,

you must decide.

Are you looking at
the chimneys of Coketown
for an answer, Louisa?

There's nothing there
but smoke.

When night comes,
fire bursts out.

I know that, Louisa,

but I don't see
the point of the remark.

I've often thought
how short life is.

It is short, my dear.

But various life assurance and
annuity offices have proved

that the average duration
of human life
has increased of late.

I was speaking of my own life.

Oh, yes.

But I needn't
point out, Louisa,

that it, too, is governed
by the same laws
that govern all lives.

What does it matter?

What does what matter,
my dear?

The only question
I have to answer is,
"Shall I marry Mr Bounderby?"

Certainly.

Tell him I accept
his proposal, Father.

Are you sure, Louisa?

Tell him I accept, Father.

I'm pleased.

Mr Bounderby
is a remarkable man.

Louisa,

I must ask.

Have you had any
other proposal of marriage
you haven't told me about?

What proposal, Father?

Who do I know?

Who do I ever see?

You've been so
careful with me, Father.

Thank you, Louisa.

Thank you, my dear.

You've always been
my favourite.

Mrs Gradgrind,

allow me to present
the future Mrs Bounderby.

-Ahem!
-Ah, there you are, ma'am.

You wanted to see me, sir?

Indeed I did, ma'am.
Pray sit down.

Thank you, sir.

Are you feeling well, ma'am?

Perfectly well,
thank you, sir.

Good, good.

Mrs Sparsit, now not only
are you a lady born and bred,

but a devilish sensible woman.

Brace yourself, Mrs Sparsit.

I am going to astonish you.

I have smelling salts ready,
should they be needed.

I am going to marry
Tom Gradgrind's daughter,

Louisa.

Indeed, sir. I hope you'll be
happy in all respects, sir.

Yes.

Well, ma'am, I hope I will be.

Well, naturally you do, sir.
Of course you do.

Under the circumstances,

I imagine you won't wish
to remain here,

though you'd be very welcome.

No, sir,
I wouldn't think of it.

However, ma'am,

there are apartments
for a born lady at the bank.

You could look after the place
on my behalf
on the same terms.

Is this a position
that I could occupy

without descending
the social scale?

Of course it is!

Otherwise I shouldn't
have suggested it

to a lady who's moved
in top society.

Not that I care
for such society,
but you do.

Say no more, sir.

I know I shall never be freed
form eating the bread
of dependence.

It's my lot.

I accept your offer

most gratefully.

And I do hope, sir,
that Miss Gradgrind
will be all you desire

and deserve.

[INAUDIBLE]

[TRAIN DEPARTING]

All shut up, Bitzer?

All shut up, ma'am.

What's the news of the day?

The millhands
are a bad lot, ma'am.

They're uniting
to form a union.

The late Mr Sparsit
used to say these people
must be conquered.

It's time it was done
once and for all.

You couldn't put it
clearer, ma'am.

Mr Bounderby
made 60,000 out of sixpence,

so it stands to reason
any man can make 60,000
out of sixpence.

I've made sure I have
only one mouth to feed,

and that's the only mouth
I like feeding.

I believe Mr Bounderby
did very well in employing you
as office spy and informer.

I'm grateful
for the small gift
he gives me at Christmas.

The clerks are
punctual and industrious,
I trust, Bitzer?

With the usual exception,

Mr Thomas Gradgrind.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

MRS SPARSIT:
Can I help you, sir?

I left my servant
at the station with
my other luggage.

I'm James Harthouse.

I must say, ma'am,
this is a very odd place.

Is it always this black?

It's usually blacker.

You're not a native, ma'am?

No, sir, it's my fortune
for good or ill
to be a widow.

My husband was a Powler.

A what?

-A Powler.
The Powler family.
-Ah, yes.

You must be very bored here.

-I'm the servant of
circumstances, sir.
-Indeed.

I have a letter of
introduction to Mr Bounderby

from Mr Thomas Gradgrind MP.

I believe he married
Mr Gradgrind's daughter.

He had that honour.

The lady is something
of a prodigy, I'm told.

Indeed, sir. Is she?

Can you direct me
to Mr Bounderby's house?

Just tell the cabbie
22, Charter Street.

Thank you, ma'am.
I'm obliged.

MRS SPARSIT:
Who is that old woman?

BITZER: I've no idea, ma'am.

What did you think
of the gentleman, Bitzer?

Spends a great deal
on his dress, ma'am.

It's very tasteful.

He looks like a gambler.

It's immoral to gamble.

Not immoral, Mrs Sparsit,

foolish.

The chances are always stacked
against the players.

There's no profit in it.

He seemed to know something
of Mrs Bounderby.

Yes.

Good news spreads.

Mr Gradgrind informs me that
the party is grooming you

as his successor
when he retires.

I can tell Coketown
isn't the kind of place
you're accustomed to.

No.

See this smoke?
It's meat and drink to us.

The healthiest thing
in the world

[WHEEZILY] especially
for the lungs.

-[COUGHS]
-I'm sure it is.

You'll have heard
a lot of southern talk about
the work in our mills, hmm?

It's the highest work
there is,

and the best paid.

No, you couldn't
improve our mills

unless you put Turkey carpet
down on the floor.

And I'm sure
you won't do that.

No.

As for our millhands,
there's not a one
in this town,

man, woman, or child,

who doesn't want
to be fed on turtle soup

and venison
with a gold spoon.
[SNIFFS]

Loo.

Uh, this, sir, is my wife,
Mrs Bounderby. [CLEARS THROAT]

Ma'am.

An honour.

You'll stay for supper.

Well, don't deceive yourself.
I'm a family man, Harthouse.

I'm a genuine scrap of
rag, tag and bobtail.

I know the exact
depth of the gutter
I pulled myself out of

[SCOFFS] better than any man.

Yes, of course you would.

I trust this won't put you
to too much inconvenience,
Mrs Bounderby.

None at all, Mr Harthouse.

I never learnt
how to pay compliments.

Your upbringing was different
from mine, Harthouse.

You're a gentleman.
I don't pretend to be one.

I'm not influenced by manners
and such.

Mrs Bounderby might be.

She'll appreciate them,
I dare say.

Supper's eight sharp.
I've some work
to do till then.

Mr Bounderby's a noble animal,

quite free from
conventional trappings.

It's natural
you should respect him.

-Sherry, Mr Harthouse?
-Yes.

[CLEARS THROAT]
Yes, thank you.

You're going to help the
nation out of its
difficulties, Mr Harthouse.

No. I'm not so vain.

I've seen
a little of the world,
here and there,

up and down.

I found it all
pretty worthless.

I thought I may as well
back the Tory Party
as anything else.

I respect
your father's opinions
because I've none of my own.

None?

I don't attach any importance
to any opinion.

Thanks to all the boredom
I've endured,

I'm convinced
that any set of ideas

will do just as much good
as any other

and just as much harm.

There's a charming
Italian motto,

"What will be, will be."

It's the only truth going.

Is that what you believe?

I like a political party
that thinks it can
prove anything

with facts and figures.

It gives a man
a chance to get on.

Don't you believe in
what the party stands for?

Yes.

But even if I didn't,
I'd act as if I did.

You're an odd politician,
Mr Harthouse.

There are more about like me
than you think, Mrs Bounderby.

In fact we make up
the biggest party
in the country,

the Getting On Party.

I'm just more honest about it.

You can stay here with us
if you wish, Harthouse.

That's extremely generous
of you, Mr Bounderby.
Thank you.

I'll show you around
the town tomorrow,

the streets where
I was dragged up.

I was brought up to make do
with a hap'orth of stewed
eels for my dinner,

washed down with filthy
corporation water.

TOM: Sorry I'm late.

When I was your age,
I was punctual
or I got nothing to eat.

Well, you didn't have to dress
and balance the accounts.

Some people would think it
a mighty privilege

to be giving dinner
and lodging by their employer.

Mrs Bounderby, have I met
your brother before?

Could I have met him abroad?

Oh, no.
He's never been abroad.

Have you, Tom?

No such luck, sir.

TOM: I do like your waistcoat,
Mr Harthouse.

-What an easy swell you are.
-Call me Jem.

TOM: So, how did you
like a dose of old Bounderby?

HARTHOUSE:
[CHUCKLING] What a comical
brother-in-law you make, Tom.

TOM: [LAUGHS] What a comical
brother-in-law old Bounderby
makes, you mean.

HARTHOUSE: Oh, he seems
a good enough fellow.

TOM: You think so, do you?

I never cared
for Bounderby myself.

My sister Loo,
she never cared
for Bounderby, either.

But that's
the past tense, Tom.

We're in
the present tense now.

Verb neuter.

Present tense.
Indicative mood.

First person singular,

"I do not care."

Second person singular,
"Thou dost not care."

Third person singular,
"She does not care."

Very droll.
You don't mean it.

I do. Loo never had a suitor.

She's never even been courted.

Oh, there's no surprise when
Father proposed old Bounderby,
she took him.

She wouldn't have done it
if it hadn't been for me.

You?

I persuaded her.

I was going to be stuck
at Bounderby's bank,

and I knew if I got
into scrapes, she'd be
able to help me out.

Very droll of you,
and very good of your sister.

Yes, it was.

Of course, it was
more important for me
than for her.

My getting on depended on it.

It wasn't as though
she left somebody else
or anything,

and staying at home
was like staying in jail.

Well, she seems to have
settled down well enough.

Yes. She doesn't mind.

Girls get on anywhere.
They always make
the best of it.

I suppose they have to.

It's damn hard
for the rest of us, though.

[LAUGHS]

Friend, you've seen how the
mill masters have grown rich
from the sweat of our brows.

They've ground us into dust.

We can't fight them alone.

Only if we stick together
can we get ourselves
a better life.

But now,

you want to stand aside.

We've called this meeting

to give you a chance
to tell us why.

Let's hear from you, lad.

I'm the only had
at Bounderby's mill

not to come in with you
in the union.

I can't.

I doubt much
that our coming together
will do any good.

Likely it will do us harm.

But even if that were all,
I would come in with you
for good or ill.

I have my reasons
for staying outside.

But what are they?

That's what we're here for.

I've given someone my word.

I don't understand.

You've given your word
you won't join the union?

Yes.

-Who to?
-I can't say.

But why have you
given your word?

I've given it,
and that's enough!

[WHISPERING]

Brother Blackpool,

you know what it means
if you refuse to join us.

You know what
we'll have to do.

I know, brothers.

You'll have nothing more
to do with me.

You'll not speak to me
nor touch me.

If I were lying
perishing on the road,

you would pass by me
as if I was a stranger.

Think on it, lad.

I've thought on it,

and I can't change,

so let it be.

Stephen, I've just heard.
The word's out already.

You shouldn't be seen
talking to me, lass.

Why didn't you join them?

I promised you I wouldn't.

Me?

But that was years ago.

I prayed
with you in the chapel
to keep away from trouble.

Well, it happens
you were right.

You must join them now.
Forget your promise.

-No.
-Why?

Nobody tells me what to do!
I won't be forced!

You're wanted.

Well, Stephen, what have
these pests of the earth
been doing to you, eh?

Oh, this is the man
I was talking about.

-Oh, really?
-STEPHEN: What did you
want to see me about, sir?

Well, to speak up
and tell us about this union.

I have nothing to say
about it, sir.

Would you believe it,
Harthouse?

Although they've put
their mark on him,

he's afraid to open
his lips about them.

I said I had nothing
to say about it, sir,

not that I was afraid
to open my lips.

Well, sir,

may I take the liberty
of asking how it happens

that you refused
to be in this union?

I made a promise.

Not to me, I'm sure.

If it was just a question of
Josiah Bounderby of Coketown,

you would have joined
and made no bones about it?

Yes, sir, I would.

You hear, Harthouse, you hear?

And he knows this union
is just a pack of
rascals and rebels.

Are they rebels, Mr Blackpool?

STEPHEN: No, ma'am.

Not rebels. Not rascals.

They haven't done me
a kindness,

but there's not a man
Jack of them doesn't believe

he's done his duty
by his mates.

Ah, and it's because
they are so full of virtue

that they've, uh, booted
you out, is that right?

You have to understand, ma'am,

they are faithful
to one another,
even to death.

Be poor amongst them,

be sick amongst them,
shed tears amongst them,

and they'll be tender
with you,

gentle with you,
Christian with you,

and that's the truth.

Thank you kindly, all.

BOUNDERBY: Stop, sir!

What do you complain of?

I didn't come
to complain, sir.
I came because I was sent for.

Then what do the people
complain of, Mr Blackpool?

Look how we live,

and where we live,
and in what numbers.

Look at how the mills
are always going

and our only end is in death.

Look how you're always right
and we're always wrong,

and still it gets harder
and harder for us.

Look on it, ma'am,
and then tell me
if it isn't all a fair muddle.

But you, of course,
are the one to set
this muddle right.

No, sir, no. But I know
a strong hand won't do it.

And I know letting
us alone won't do it.

You let thousands
and thousands of men and women
alone living lives like ours,

and they become like
one big, black world

between you and the light.

And, most of all,
regulating us won't do it,

like as though we were
figures in a sum,

machines without memories,

without love or liking

without souls to weary
and souls to hope.

You're a troublemaker.

You came to see me before
making trouble.

You're one
of the gold spoon brigade!

You're such a troublemaker

your own union won't have
anything to do with you never.

Well, I'll not have anything
to do with you either.

Sir, you know
if I can't get work with you,

I can't get work with anyone.

BOUNDERBY:
You'll finish the week off.

You're fired!

[DOOR SLAMS]

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

I wanted to speak to you
after what happened.

I'd like to help.

Is this your wife?

-No.
-She's gone.

I'm sorry.
I heard about your troubles.

There's something
I don't understand.

Why can't you get another job?

The mill masters
stand together,

and he gets the reputation
of a troublemaker.

LOUISA: So you're
cast out on both sides.

It's because of a promise
he made to me.

I'll never break a promise
that I made to you, lass.
Never.

-What will you do now?
-Make the best of it.

I'll work my time out here
and then find another place.

LOUISA: How will you travel?

On foot, ma'am.

What else?

Oh, no, ma'am.

Oh, no, that's too much.

I'll take £2.
I know I can pay that back.

Goodbye.

I'll catch up with you, Loo.

A word with you, Stephen.

I'm going to try and help.

I think old Bounderby's
treated you badly.

Thank you, sir.

I'll have a word with him
on the quiet.

See if I can't
make him see reason.
I have bit of influence.

Better not say anything
to anyone.

If he finds out
we've been talking...

I understand,
but I'll be off on Saturday.

Yes.

Better meet outside the bank
Thursday or Friday
after closing.

I don't know exactly when.

-LOUISA: Tom!
-I'll be there
in a minute, Loo.

I can't promise anything,
but...

Remember, outside the bank.

It's that millhand
out there again.

[TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS]

[TRAIN DEPARTING]

Stephen!

[RUNNING FOOTSTEPS]

You were going
without saying goodbye.

I thought it best, lass.

Stephen,

you know my heart.

I feel like to die.

I'm glad I found you here
alone, Mrs Bounderby.

There is something I would
like to talk to you about.

It's about your brother,
my young friend, Tom.

What about him?

I have an interest in him.

I'm surprised you have
an interest in anything,
Mr Harthouse.

If you would have said that
before I came here,

I would have agreed with you.

But I've changed.

What about my brother?

I know you don't want
to hear this,

but I think
that young Tom has become

a little wild,

a little dissipated,
wouldn't you say?

Yes.

Do you think he gambles?

I know he does.

And you make up his losses?

Yes.

He's borrowed a lot from you?

When I married,
Tom was heavily in debt.

I sold some of my trinkets.

It was no great sacrifice.
They were worthless to me.

But he keeps wanting more.

There's one great fault
in Tom I can't forgive,

his treatment of you.

What you've done for him
demands his love
and gratitude,

not his bad temper.

I'm going to try
and make him change, if I can.

Ah, Tom!

What are you doing? Dreaming
of some beautiful creature?

No, not unless
the beautiful creature

had a fortune
I could get my hands on.

-You're mercenary, Tom.
-Who isn't?

Jem, I'm in a horrible mess.

My sister could have got me
out of it if she tried.

You've already
had money from her.

How do you know that?

She told me.

Well, you have, haven't you?

[SIGHS]

Where else
am I going to get it?

My father wont lift a finger.
My mother's never had
anything except her illnesses.

Loo could help me easily,
but she won't.

My dear, Tom, let me help you.

-How much do you need?
-Nothing.

Nothing.

I wish I'd known you sooner.

In that case,
there is something
you can do for me.

I want you to be kinder
to your sister.

-To Loo?
-Yes. As a favour to me.

I will.

You see,
you're the only creature
she cares for.

-My coat! My coat!
-What is it?

The bank was
robbed last night.

Tom, you go to the police!

Out of my way!

Josiah, I'd like
to come with you.

You look as pale
as a ghost, my dear.

It does you credit.
My loss is your loss.

Robbed.
Robbed with a false key!

How much?

Well, not by so very much,
but it might have been £150

£154, 18 shillings
and sixpence.

No interruption, sir.

Don't forget that I was robbed
while you were snoring.

It might have been 20,000.

-I suppose it might.
-Suppose?

Might have been twice 20
but for the fellows'
being disturbed.

-Is there a suspect?
-Of course there's a suspect.

When Josiah Bounderby's
been robbed,

there has to be a suspect.

A millhand, sir.
We saw him waiting outside.

-Not our friend Blackpot?
-Blackpool.

BOUNDERBY:
That's the scoundrel.

And there was that old woman.

Ah, the two of them
in it together.

It'll take time,
but we'll have 'em. Huh?

We'll have 'em thanks to
Mrs Sparsit's sharp eyes.

-Join us for dinner, ma'am.
-Thank you, sir.

Well?

Well?

What do you say, Mr Harthouse?

Fellows who go in for banks
must take the consequences.

If there were no consequences,
we'd all go in for banks.

Don't be low, sir.

Let me see you cheerful
as you used to be.

We'll try a hand of backgammon
after dinner.

I haven't played backgammon,
ma'am, since you left.

Ah, yes. Miss Gradgrind
was never interested
in the game.

Oh.

I'm sorry, Mr Bounderby.

Sissy sent word
my mother's ill.

I'd like to visit her
tomorrow with Tom.

BOUNDERBY: Hmm.

[CLEARS THROAT]

I hope you don't mind. I was
pouring Mr Bounderby's wine,
as I used to.

I'm sure Mrs Bounderby
will be glad to be
relieved of the trouble.

Oh. That's unkind, sir.

You don't mind,
do you, Loo?

Of course not.
It's not important.

[SCOFFS] You see,
it's not important, ma'am.

What's the matter?
Have I offended you?

Offended?

How could you
have offended me?

I don't understand
what you want me to do.

Nothing!

What could you
possibly do for me?

You're impossible
this evening.

Please don't trouble
to explain yourself.

It doesn't matter.

[MRS SPARSIT
CLEARS THROAT LOUDLY]

Do you still take
your glass of warm sherry

with lemon peel
and nutmeg, sir?

No. I've got out of the habit.

Oh. More's the pity, sir.

You must let me prepare you
a glass before I leave.

You'd better stay, ma'am.

My wife, it seems,
will be away for a few days.

Not that I'll notice
the difference.

Oh, dear!

Tom, it's me.

[SIGHS] What is it, Loo?

Is it about Mother?

We'll go and see her tomorrow.

Tom, is there anything
you want to tell me?

I don't know what
you are talking about, Loo.

You've been dreaming.

Do you think the man
I gave the money to
is a thief?

I don't know.

Go to bed, Loo.

You're lying in the dark, Tom,
so tell the truth.

No one can hear us.

Go to bed, Loo.

I promise
I'll help you, Tom.

Just whisper in my ear.

I've got nothing to whisper.

Go to bed.

Loo,

go to bed.

Very well, Tom.

[MOANING]

Are you in pain,
Mrs Gradgrind?

I think there's pain
somewhere in the room,

but I couldn't positively say
I've got it.

Don't leave me, Sissy.

-Where are you?
-I'm here. I'm here.

Louisa learnt
a great deal in this house.

So did her brother.

Ologies of all kinds,
from morning to night.

No ologies left
that weren't worn to rags.

But, Sissy,
there was something.

Not an ology...

No, not an ology.

...that Mr Gradgrind
missed or forgot.

Yes, Mrs Gradgrind.

I don't know what it was.

I often sit here with you,
Sissy, and think about it.

Never get its name now.

It makes me restless.

You must sleep now.

Mr Gradgrind will know.

He'll know.

[DOOR OPENS]

Hello, Mother.
Still on the sofa?

Say hello to Tom, Mother.

I only had a she-wolf
for a mother.

She didn't give me milk,
only bruises.

It must have been
very difficult for you.

Any news of the robbery?

I'm going over to Kettely
with Bitzer.

The police may have
a line on my thief.

I'll be away for the night.

Would you like me to keep
an eye on the house?

Mrs Sparsit will
do that well enough.

Oh, she's been
uncommonly helpful.

But, uh... [CLEARS THROAT]

Look in on Loo.

She'll probably want
to grieve for her mother.

Though I never did for mine,
of course.

I'm glad to see you,
Mr Harthouse.

Thank you for talking to Tom.

He has changed.

I'm glad, for your sake.

[DOOR CLOSES]

-I had to tell you.
-Don't speak about it.

You're my only hope.

Before I met you, my life
was a long desert, worthless.

Bought my way
into the Dragoons, bored.

Trained as
an English consulate, bored.

Strolled through
Jerusalem, bored.

Sailed the word, bored.

Now I'm trying politics,
bored.

Until I found you.

-Look at me.
-I'm afraid.

Everything's worthless
without you.

We can't.

I want to throw it all away,
like dirt.

No!

Stay with me.

Not here. Not in this house.

Where?

Not here.

I've a room
at the Coketown Arms.

No one will see you.

This evening, my darling,
we leave tonight.

Louisa?

Louisa, what are
you doing here?

I want to speak
to you, Father.

You're soaked, child.
Were you out in the storm?

Yes.

What is it, child?

-What have you done to me?
-Done to you?

-You remember the last time
we talked in this room?
-Yes.

-Why didn't you help me then?
-I tried.

Why didn't you neglect me
as a child?

You taught me to suppress
anything from the heart,
so I suppressed it,

and in return, you gave me
a husband I hate.

Louisa.

I have a hunger
and a thirst on me.

I must find a place
where there are no numbers
and no definitions.

I never knew
you were so unhappy.

I always knew.

But I thought my life
would soon be over

and nothing in it
was worth fighting for.

Well, you're so young, Louisa.

Young and dead.

I married, but I never
pretended I loved him.

I did it for Tom.

He's the only tenderness
in my life.

What can I do?

I've met someone.
I don't know how,

but he understands me.

I'm just surprised
he should care for me

when he cares for
nothing else in the world.

He cares for you, Louisa?

Oh, I haven't done anything
to disgrace you, Father.

But if you ask me
if I love him or not,

I think the answer is yes,
perhaps I do.

I do. Perhaps I do.

Child. Child.

He's waiting for me now.

I don't know if I'm glad,
sorry or ashamed.

I only know your teaching
won't help me now, Father.

Find a way to save me, Father.

Find a way.

I'll die if you hold me.

Let me fall!

Down. Down.

Down.

You're on the last step down,
my lady.

How are you, Louisa?

Better, Father.

The ground I stand on
breaks under my feet.

I've proved my system,
at least to myself,

so I must bear
the responsibility
of any failure.

Believe me, Louisa,
I only wanted to do right.

I know you only wanted
to make me happy.

I don't blame you.

People say there is
a wisdom of the head

and a wisdom of the heart.

I didn't believe it.

I thought the wisdom
of the head was enough.

Did I disturb you?

No.

Would you like me
to stay with you?

Yes.

Why have I always
hated you so much?

I don't know.

I think you changed
just before you left home.

Do you hate me?

No. Never.

I've always loved you.

Sissy,

please

help me!

Confess it.

You're bored already.

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

The young lady
to see you, sir.

Show her in, man.

Come on.

Mr Harthouse?

Yes, the same.

Do I have your word
this visit is a secret?

You have it, but I don't see
where this conversation
is going.

It's about a lady.
I've just left her.

Where?

At her father's.

Ah, her father's.

That's the way it is, is it?

I must ask you to promise
never to see her again
as long as you live.

-Did she ask you to tell me?
-No.

I don't doubt your sincerity,
but I can't promise.

There's no hope for you.
Consider her dead.

No.

How can you take on
such a responsibility
on your own?

I do it out of love.
I know her character.

Trust me, Mr Harthouse.

For some reason, I do.

I'm not a moral
sort of fellow.

I've never made any pretence.
I'm as immoral as need be.

But I never had any intentions
of hurting the young lady

or in taking advantage
of the fact that
her father's a machine,

her brother's a whelp
and her husband's a boar.

I never had
any evil intentions.

I just did what I did
without thinking.

It seemed perfectly natural.

I was bored.

Will you give up seeing her?

Yes. Why not?

But I'd never have agreed
if anyone else
had come to ask.

-There's one more thing.
-More?

I must ask you
to leave her today
and never come back.

Come, come.

Strange as it may sound,

I'm here on public business.

Well, political business
for the Conservative Party.

It's a fact.

Fact or no fact,
I must ask you to go.

But it would make me
look foolish

just to up and leave.

It's the honourable
thing to do,

and I know you'll do
the honourable thing

or else I wouldn't
have come here.

[SCOFFS] Honourable?

I don't know what to say.

I trust you, Mr Harthouse.

This is ridiculous.

[SIGHS] Well...

There's no way out of it.

What will be, will be.

And this is what will be,
I suppose.

You have my word. I'll go.

Thank you, Mr Harthouse.

At lease allow me
the privilege of knowing
my enemy's name.

My name? It's Sis.
Cecilia Jupe.

Are you related to the family?

No, no. I'm just a girl
from the circus.

Ah. "Just a girl
from the circus."

[CHUCKLES]

-[DOOR CLOSES]
-[SIGHS]

Another defeat.

Another failure.

It's one great
pyramid of failure.

What does it matter?

I need a trip.

Maybe up the Nile.

Better write to my brother,
Jack.

"Dear Jack,

"all up in Coketown.

"Bored out of my mind.

"Am going for camels.

"Affectionately, Jem."

-[DOOR OPENS]
-Ah!

Now, wait a bit.

This lady here has
something to tell you
that will strike you dumb.

Dumb!

Bounderby, I want to speak.

Not you, sir.

Let this lady speak.

Ma'am, tell him.

Mr Bounderby, I...
[SNEEZES] I can't.

This is no time
for swallowing marbles.

If you can't spit it out,
I can.

Gradgrind, Mrs Sparsit
overheard a conversation

between your friend
James Harthouse and Loo.

She followed
your precious daughter,

my wife,

to Mr Harthouse's hotel.

And now they've gone!

Together!

Louisa is here.

Yes, together.

Here? Did you say here?

She's upstairs, asleep.

She came here last night
in the storm.

Naturally,
she stayed overnight.

[SNEEZES]

Well, ma'am,

we shall be pleased to hear

whatever little apology
you may have to offer.

[HOARSELY] Sir, my throat.

I need lemon juice.

You need
something else, too, ma'am.

A coach to take you
back to the bank.

I'm sorry, Gradgrind.
I'm not in an agreeable
state today.

Now, I have to speak plain

because I'm
a plain-speaking man.

Your daughter, sir,

has not been
a dutiful wife to me.

I doubt if we've ever
understood Louisa.

-What do you mean, "we"?
-I, then.

I doubt if I've
ever understood Louisa.

I don't think I educated her
in quite the right way.

Well, you're right there!

I'll tell you
what education is!

Being thrown out of doors
neck and crop

and starved of everything
except blows!

Whatever the merits
of such an education may be,

it's difficult
to apply it to girls.

I don't see why.

We won't quarrel
on the matter.

I wanted to ask you,
my dear Bounderby,

if you would allow Louisa
to stay here a while

with Sissy...

I mean, Cecilia.

...who understands her.

I gather from all this
that you, uh,

think there's
some incompatibility

between Loo Bounderby
and myself.

I'm afraid
there's incompatibility

between Louisa and
almost everybody at present.

I'm a Coketown man! I...

I know every brick,
chimney-stack and millhand
in this town.

They're real!

Anything else is turtle soup
and venison with a gold spoon!

And since
that's what Loo wants,

I suggest that
you provide it for her

because she'll
not get it from me!

There's no need to use
that tone, Bounderby.

You may change
like a weathercock, Gradgrind,

but I stay what I am,

what I've always been.

Your daughter, sir,

doesn't appreciate me.

I don't impress her.

This is unreasonable.

I think it's
devilish reasonable.

For years, I couldn't afford
the price of a shoehorn

let alone the price of a shoe.

But there are ladies,

born ladies,

from families,

families,

who worship the ground
I walk on.

-Isn't that so?
-Yes. [SNEEZES]

Yes, sir.

If your daughter isn't home
by 12 noon tomorrow,

I shall take it
that she prefers to stay here.

Please. Bounderby,
you've accepted her
for better or worse.

No!

Everyone will know that
Josiah Bounderby

and Loo Gradgrind

were two horses
who wouldn't pull together.

And that's the truth of it,

without any sentimental
humbug!

[SNEEZES LOUDLY]

-[TRAIN DEPARTING]
-[HOOFBEATS DEPARTING]

And thanks to you,
Mr Bounderby,

Stephen Blackpool
is now named in public
print all over town.

It's shameful.
He's the honestest lad
that ever walked.

Where is he then,
if he's so honest?

I've told you.
He went away to find work.

BOUNDERBY: Ah.

There you are, Mrs Bounderby.

I'm sorry to call you out,

but this woman here
has been telling me
a cock-and-bull story

that you went to see her
and Stephen Blackpool

and gave him money.

It's true.

Why the devil
didn't you tell me?

I promised my sister
I wouldn't.

That's true.

Why was he seen outside
this bank that evening?

RACHEL: I don't know.
I think it was to meet someone
about a job.

BOUNDERBY: Who?
RACHEL: I don't know.

Have you any idea
who it might be?

That person may be the thief.

I don't know,
but I've written to Stephen

and told him to come back
to clear himself.

Have you indeed?

Well, ma'am, my spies
in the post office tell me

that no letter
to Stephen Blackpool
has ever been sent.

The only time
he ever wrote to me

he said he's been forced
to change his name

so as to get work.

Changed his name, has he?

Oh, that's unlucky
for such an immaculate man.

Innocent men
don't change their names.

What's his name now?

I'll never tell you.

Then where is he?

If he's so innocent,
why hasn't he come back?

I don't know.

Goodnight, Father.

Louisa, do you believe
this man Blackpool's
the thief?

I did so once because
I wanted to believe he was.

Stop!

I got her!

The old woman.
The one outside the bank.

Let me in with her.

No, no, no! No, no, no!
No, please.

No, no, no, no, no!

Right! Hah!

To Mr Bounderby's! Quick!

She's mine!
Now we'll know the truth.

MRS SPARSIT: No escape!

I've found one of them!

-Where's Mr Bounderby?
-MAN: Upstairs.

Don't let her
out of your sight!

What is it?
What is it, Mrs Sparsit?

I've found the old woman
we saw outside the bank.

BOUNDERBY:
Good work, Mrs Sparsit!

I found her for you
after some trouble.

Where's she gone?

But trouble in your service
is a pleasure to me, sir.

Show yourself, ma'am.

What the devil do you think
you're doing, Mrs Sparsit?

[STUTTERING] Sir?

How dare you poke
your great officious nose
into my affairs!

My dear Josiah,
it's not my fault.

I told her
you wouldn't like it,
but she wouldn't listen.

Why did you let her
bring you in?

Why didn't you
knock her teeth out
or break her legs?

She threatened me
with the police.

So I had to come quiet.

Hmm.

Ooh.

[GASPS WITH DELIGHT]

Such a fine house you've got.

It's not my fault, Josiah.

I live quiet and secret
like I promised.

Never broke
our agreement once.

Never said I was your mother.

Just admired you
from a distance.

And if I come to town
now and again

for a proud peep at you,

I done it secret, my love,
and gone away again.

I'm surprised, madam.

You have the gall
to face your son

after the unnatural way
you treated him.

Me? Unnatural?

To my dear boy?

Well, not so dear when you
abandoned him as a baby

and left him to the care
of a drunken grandmother.

His grand...

His grandmother died
before he was born!

And never touched
a drop of hard liquor!

Oh, may God forgive you
your wicked imagination!

But, madam,

you left your son to be
brought up in the gutter.

What gutter?

Josiah was never
in no gutter ever,

though he comes
from humble parents.

His parents who loved him.

Never thought of the
hardship on themselves

to save so that he
could get an education.

Well, even after
his poor father died,

I managed to buy him
an apprenticeship,

though I only had
a village shop

and the takings
were small enough.

Still, he paid me back
like a loving son.

He pensioned me off
on £30 a year
not to trouble him.

I don't exactly know
how I came to be favoured

with the presence
of the existing company.

Were you all invited
to hear a lecture
on my family affairs?

[SCOFFS]

Officious busybodies!

Out!

Out!

Good evening!

They've found Stephen.

[SCREAMING]

[CONTINUES SCREAMING]

Lift him slowly.

Easy.

-[WHIMPERING]
-Easy.

Careful.

It's mangled
the life out of him.

How did it happen?

He fell in,
walkin' across the field.

When the mineshaft
was workin',
it killed without need.

Now it's abandoned,
it still kills without need.

So we die without need
one way or another.

[INAUDIBLE]

Just don't let go
my hand, Rachel.

Are you still in pain,
my dear one?

Some. Some.

It's all a muddle, eh?

It's all a muddle.

Oh, young lady,

I was thinking of you
before I fell.

And your brother,
what you had done to me.

It's no matter now.

Will you take a message
to your father?

My father's here.

Oh, sir.
Promise you'll clear my name.

How?

Your son, Tom, will tell you.

I met with him one night.

And I waited.

But I make no charges.

Promise me!

I promise.

Don't let go of my hand,
Rachel. Don't let go of me.

I'll hold it all the way.
All the way.

Why are you crying?

If I hadn't
woken up that night,

your wife would have died
and we'd have been free.

If you hadn't made
that promise for my sake,

you wouldn't have gone away.

And if I hadn't
written to you,

you wouldn't have come back.

I did it for the best.

Uh, yes.

It's all a muddle, isn't it?

It's a fair old muddle.

[CHOKING]

Cover my face.

-Father...
-Did you know about Tom?

Yes.

Do you think he planned
the robbery?

He needed the money.

And he deliberately
cast suspicion on that
poor dead man.

Now I'll have to
tell everyone the truth.

-I promised.
-What about Tom?

I'll have to arrange
his escape.

No, Sissy
has already done that.

Mr Sleary's circus
is pitched over at Kettely.

I sent Tom there with a note.

Mr Sleary will make
the arrangements.

-[DRUMROLL]
-[CYMBAL CRASHES]

[CIRCUS AUDIENCE APPLAUDING]

Oh. Oh. Sissy! [LAUGHING]

-Sissy!
-Oh, you're back.

[ALL CHEERING]

Oh, my little poppet.

Eh, Sissy.
The horses missed you.

You was always
their favourite.

I'm getting married
next week, Sis.
To a widow.

Her husband was thrown
in a heavy back fall
off an elephant.

Oh, I've missed you all
so much!

Mr Sleary,
is my brother safe?

Safe and well.

He's here in disguise
till we can move him.

Thank you, Mr Sleary.

I'm a bleary brandy-and-water
veteran myself, squire.

You stood by our Sissy,
so we'll stand by you.

Can I see Tom?

Later. After the show's over.

Hello? Father?

[LAUGHING]

How was it done?

What done?

The robbery!

Oh, that!
Well, I had a key made,

and I waited my time.

I'm in agony.

Why? Why?

Why?

So many people
work in situations of trust,

and a certain percentage
of those people
will be dishonest.

You told me a hundred times
it's a law.

How can I help laws?

You've comforted everyone else
with your laws, Father,

so comfort yourself.

I must get you to Liverpool
and then abroad.

Yes, I suppose so.

I can't be more miserable
anywhere else
than I have been here.

We'll get you changed,

then we'll take you
to the station.

It's a banker's draft.

You'll be provided for
wherever you end up.

May God forgive you.

-Oh, Tom!
-No! Not you!

I have nothing to say to you.

LOUISA: Is this how it ends
after my love for you?

Pretty words.

You left old Bounderby and
had my best friend Harthouse
packed off just like that!

Don't talk about him.

If you ever loved me,
please don't talk about him.

You gave me up!

You never cared for me!

Sorry to interfere
with your plans,

but I must have Mr Tom.

I always suspected
you did the robbery.

I suggest you come quiet,

or do I have to
blow this whistle
and tell all the world?

Bitzer, don't do this.

Have you got a heart?

Of course, sir.

The circulation couldn't be
carried on without one.

No man acquainted
with the facts relating to
the circulation of the blood

can doubt I have a heart.

But can it be touched
by compassion?

It can be touched by reason.
And nothing else.

Why?

What reason can you have
for stopping my son escaping?

Sir, since you've
asked my reason,

it's only reasonable
to let you know.

Mr Bounderby will promote me
to Tom's place in the bank
for this.

It's a promotion
I've always wanted.

So it's solely a question
of self-interest.

No, sorry
to interrupt you, sir,

but, as a true Conservative,
you must know

the whole social system is
a question of self-interest.

What you must always appeal to
is a person's self-interest.

It's our only hold.
It's how we're made.

You taught me that, sir,
when I was very young.

How much do you want?

Oh, thank you, sir,
for trying to bribe me.

I knew, with your clear mind,
you'd suggest this,

so I went through
the calculating in my head.

And found that
to compound a felony,

no matter how well paid,

would not be as safe,
or as good, for me

as staying with Mr Bounderby.

So I must regretfully say no.

Bitzer,

can't I appeal to you?

You were at my school.

I paid for it.

Surely, it's a fundamental
principle of your party

that everything
has to be paid for.

Everything from birth to death
is a bargain across a counter

and must be paid for in cash.

But what about God?

And your chance of heaven?

This is the best way
to heaven, sir.

And if it isn't, it's not
a place run on sound
economic principle

and we've no
business there.

Ah, hmm-hmm?
What's this, squire?

This man is a criminal.

If anyone tries to stop me,
I'll call the police

and you'll all be in trouble.

Oh, yeah.

If he's a criminal, squire,
then we must help you.

Father!

It will be in your interest
if you help me get this man
to the police.

I'll hitch a trap
for you, sir.

Mr Bounderby
will appreciate it.

He's a generous man.

KIDDERMINSTER:
That's right.
All aboard, sirs.

Squire,

you'd better take old Grumpus
along with you for protection.

You know what to do, Grumpus.

-Go, madam, go.
-I'm going, sir.

Oh, I think you're too cramped
under my humble roof, madam.

Please don't bite my nose off.

I cannot, madam.
It's too big.

I am only Josiah Bounderby
of Coketown.

Forgive me, I think I must
have been wasting your time.

In my judgement,
this is no place for a lady
with a genius like yours

for poking into
other people's affairs.

In your judgement, indeed.

Everybody knows how unerring
Mr Bounderby's judgement is.

Everybody talks
about your judgement.

I have only this to say.

For a long time,
I've always thought of you
as a noodle.

Nothing a noodle says
or does comes as a surprise.

A noodle is a noodle,

and you're a noodle!

BITZER: Why is
this horse dancing?

Stop that man!

I need that.

Someone, stop that man!

[DOG BARKING]

Kidderminster and Childers
will stay with young Tom

till he boards the ship
in Liverpool, squire.

Once he's safely away,
I'll make amends.

Yes, well, you take
the carriage back, squire.

I'll rescue young Mr Bitzer
from old Grumpus.

Squire?

Does Sissy still ask
after her father?

Always, Mr Sleary.

He's dead, squire.

A year ago.

-Will you tell her?
-No, no.

There's nothing
comfortable to tell.

Will you?

No.

It'll only make her unhappy.

Yes.

People have too much
unhappiness.

That's why they
must be amused.

We can't always be a-learning,
we can't always be a-working.

No, we aren't made for it.

We must try and do
the right thing,

the kind thing.

Make the best of ourselves,
not the worst.

[IMITATES SQUISHING]

[GULPS]

[HIGH-PITCHED VOICE]
"Hello, squire."

[NORMAL VOICE] Hello.

People must be amused.

[LAUGHING]

Ah, well, squire.

All things change
and change about.

If I could see
into the future.

STEPHEN:
Look how we live
and where we live.

And our only end
is in death.

Look on it, ma'am,

and then tell me if it isn't
all a fair muddle.

Dearest

Louisa.

YOUNG TOM:
I'm sick of my life, Loo.
I hate everybody.

YOUNG LOUISA:
Not me, Tom?

YOUNG TOM: No, not you, Loo.
I don't know what I'd do
without you.

[SOBBING] Forgive me.

Forgive me.

YOUNG LOUISA:
I can't make you laugh, Tom.

YOUNG TOM:
I can't make you.

YOUNG LOUISA:
It's a great pity
for both of us.

YOUNG TOM:
You're a girl, Loo,

and girls come out of it
better than boys.

YOUNG LOUISA:
You're a dear brother, Tom.

[GRUNTS]

Wait a bit!

BITZER: Everything
has to be paid for.

Everything from birth to death
is a bargain across a counter

and must be paid for in cash.

GRADGRIND: People say
there is a wisdom of the head

and a wisdom of the heart.

I didn't believe it.

I thought the wisdom
of the head was enough.

No, I've no complaints.

You're an affectionate
young woman,

and we must make that do.

On the other hand, squire,

it might not turn out
like that at all.