Martin Chuzzlewit (1994): Season 1, Episode 6 - Episode Six - full transcript

[Conversation inaudible]

Tom: Ruth, my dear, there is Miss Pecksniff

and the young gentleman to whom she is about to be married.

Ruth: Why does he look as though he's going to be buried?

He is of a naturally melancholy temperament, I believe.

Good afternoon, Miss Pecksniff.

Oh, good gracious! Mr. Pinch.

Oh, how very, uh...

You remember my sister?

Mr. Moddle, this is my sister Ruth.

Really, there never was such a--of all the places...



I've never been so ashamed in all my life, Miss Pinch. I--

I'm sure there's no need to be.

We were on our way to Mrs. Todgers, hoping to see Mercy there.

Then you must come with us instead,

for we are going to Mercy's house for tea!

Oh, you needn't worry about Jonas.

He's in the country.

Augustus, my sweet, lead the way.

Upon my word, too embarrassing.

I wonder in these crowded streets

that foot passengers are not run over more often.

The drivers won't do it!

I beg your pardon?

There are some men who can't get run over.



They live a charmed life.

Coal wagons recoil from them.

And even cabs refuse to run them down.

Bless my soul.

Now, ain't we rich in beauty here

this joyful afternoon, I'm sure.

And I knows a lady,

what her name is Harris,

who would be the last to blame me for saying so.

Many a time and often I have said to her,

"Oh, ma'am, your countenance is quite an angel's."

Which, but for pimples, it would be.

But if ever a woman lived as could admire them,

better lookin' than herself,

Mrs. Harris is that heavenly disposition.

Heh heh heh.

Rouse yourself, Mr. Chuffey!

Look up! Here's company.

I--I know I'm in the way, and I'm sorry for it.

Where is she?

Here I am!

Ahh. Here she is.

Never mind him.

It's hard to bear,

but he'll die one day.

There are 365 days in a year,

and one more in leap year--

Hush.

You're a wearing old creature,

that's the sacred truth.

It's a pity you don't know what you say.

You'd wear your own patience out if you did

and fret yourself into a happy release

for all as knows you.

Would you make tea for us, Mrs. Gamp?

Oh...oh, what happiness to be asked.

My good young woman,

perhaps somebody might like a new-laid egg or 2,

not boiled too hard.

And likewise...

A few rounds of buttered toast,

first cutting off the crusts

in consequence of tender teeth,

and not too many of them,

which Gamp hisself, Mrs. Chuzzlewit,

at one blow struck out 4,

bein' in liquor, 2 single and 2 double,

as was taken by Mrs. Harris for a keepsake

and is carried in her pocket to this present hour.

Who's lying dead upstairs?!

Mercy: No one.

What's the matter?

There's someone dead...or dying.

Where's Jonas?

In the country.

Be quiet now and have some tea.

I'm going to see.

His own son!

[Charity sighs]

Ah, Mr. Pinch.

If my sister had not been so precipitate

and united herself to a wretch,

she would not now be burdened with that pathetic creature.

Shh. She may hear you.

Oh, I hope not.

It is far from my nature to add to her troubles

by gloating over them.

Oh, when I think of the blessings I now enjoy

and those...in store for me,

I can only feel humble and contented.

Jonas!

I didn't know you'd got a party.

Oh, dear.

Don't let us intrude on your domestic happiness.

Augustus, my love, we will go.

We have taken tea here, sir, in your absence,

but if you will be good enough to send us

a note of the expense, receipted,
we will be happy to pay it.

Charity, please!

Mercy, my dear, I'm much obliged to you for your advice

but I am not his slave.

Hah. Not for want
of trying.

We know all about that.

Augustus, I forbid you to retaliate!

Let us go before the provocation is too much

for your manly pride.

Jonas: And good riddance!

What?! You here, too?

By god, I've had enough of you meddling in my affairs!

Mercy: Jonas!

Get out of my house!

I only came here to say

that I was no party to the contents of that letter.

By god, I'll knock your brains out if you say another word!

For the love of heaven, leave us!

Tom, let us go!

Mrs. Gamp: Yes! Come on, ma'am! Oh!

So...these are your friends, are they, while I'm away?

You plot and tamper with this sort of people, do you?

I've only seen Tom Pinch once since I left home before today!

Well, you ever meet him again, and you will repent it.

Now listen to me.

I have been traveling day and night...

And I'm tired out.

Put my supper in the spare room below

and have the truckle-bed made up there.

I am going to take a sleeping draught

and try and sleep all through tomorrow, if I can.

You keep the house quiet.

Don't call me--don't let anybody call me.

Understand?

Yes, Jonas.

Is that all?

All what? Must you always be prying and questioning me?!

What more do you want to know?!

Nothing...except what you wish to tell me.

You have broken my spirit, Jonas.

Don't break my heart, as well.

See to the bed below.

Ecod, is the whole world camped in my house?

What brings you back here?

Why, just inquiring after Mrs. Chuzzlewit's health, sir.

And Mr. Chuffey's.

Chuffey...

Where is he?

He's upstairs, sir.

He cried out in the middle of the tea party,

"Who's dead upstairs?!"

Who's dead upstairs?
He said that?

Yes, sir.

Somebody's dead or dying, he says.

And nothing could stop him going to see for hisself.

Why, the old fool is mad.

That's my opinion, sir, and I will not deceive you.

I believe as Mr. Chuffey requires attention, continuous,

if I may make so bold.

Could you look after such an idiot now

in some spare room upstairs?

Oh, me and my friend could do it, sir,

one on, one off.

Betsy Prig has nursed many lunacies,

and well she knows their ways,

which puttin' 'em right close afore a fire when fractious

is the certainest...

and most composing.

Bring your friend to see me--let me see...

The day after tomorrow so we can make a bargain.

Bring her in the evening.

Oh, yes. Y-yes, sir.

[Thunder]

[Dog barking]

[Knock on door]

Who can that be this early?

John, I suppose.

I don't think it's his knock, Tom.

How can you tell?

You goose.

It's not my mysterious employer, I'll be bound.

That would be too much to hope for.

Good gracious heaven.

Young Martin: Tom?

Come in.

Come in.

My dear Martin!

How good it is to see you!

And you, my friend.

Martin, this is my sister Ruth.

It's Mr. Chuzzlewit, my love!

How do you do?

And Mark Tapley from the Blue Dragon.

How are you, Mark?

Uncommon jolly, thank you, sir.

Upon my word, this is wonderful!

Sit down! Sit down! Both of you!

Have some breakfast.

When did you get back from America?

A week ago.

Tom...I have heard all you have done

and suffered on my account.

How can I ever thank you?

There's no need.

I'm the gainer by leaving Pecksniff.

I have a situation, Martin, at a salary of £100 a year.

Imagine?

I am delighted to hear it.

Mary told me. I have seen her, all too briefly.

But she told me how infamously Pecksniff treated you

and how nobly you behaved.

Did she...Did she?

That was kind.

What are you doing in the kitchen, Mark?

I'm making the extra breakfast, sir.

Oh, I will see to that, Mr. Tapley.
Please sit down.

Leave him, Miss Pinch. He's incorrigible.

The best of Mark Tapley is known only to one man,

who but for him would not be alive to tell it.

Mark, sit down at once, or I'll swear at you.

There's no credit in being jolly with you, Mr. Pinch.

There's nothing short of going to the United States for a second trip

as would make it at all creditable to be jolly after seeing you again, sir.

Your venture was not successful, then.

It was a total catastrophe.

So what are your plans?

I don't have any plans, except to try to earn my living.

And, Tom...

With my first wage to repay the half sovereign you gave me

when I left Pecksniff's.

I don't need it, Martin.
£100 a year.

Nevertheless, you shall have it back.

And if you have any advice to give me about getting a situation,

I would be most grateful.

Advice? Goodness me, I don't--wait! I know.

Tom, my dear fellow.

And Mr. Chuzzlewit.

We came to ask your advice, but I see you have a visitor.

Yes.

You come very opportunely.

I need some advice myself,

and the matter concerns relatives of yours, Mr. Chuzzlewit.

Of mine?

Lewsome and I were schoolfellows together.

He's been very ill recently,

and I've kept him here with me these last few days.

Lewsome, tell these gentlemen your story

as if you were in a court of law.

It may well come to that.

I am an apothecary...

Assistant to a surgeon in the city.

I never prospered.

I wasted my time and my money in taverns.

One of my drinking companions was Jonas Chuzzlewit.

He...gained a hold on me through some gambling debts.

He asked me one day...

If I could supply him with some drugs.

I asked him what kind of drugs.

He said...

He said...his father was suffering

from a painful and fatal illness

and that it would be a kindness

to mix something with his cough syrup that would ease his death.

You said "speed his death" before.

God forgive me.

I procured him the drugs.

The poison, I should say.

Well done, Lewsome.

We'll leave you alone to recover yourself.

I never heard that my great-uncle was suffering

from any painful, fatal illness.

Nor I. It was said he died of a stroke.

Quite so.

His own father.

Is it possible?

His own son.

John: What?

I just remembered something old Mr. Chuffey said yesterday.

If someone else has this information,

that would account for Jonas' conduct on the steamboat that day.

The same thought had occurred to me, Tom,

but I am at a loss to know how to proceed.

Your grandfather must be informed.

He's the dead man's brother. He should decide what to do.

Will you lay this matter before him?

No, I can't.

He is still under the spell

of that villain Pecksniff.

Even if I could manage to see him,

I should be suspected of trying to worm my way back into his favor

by blackening the character of Jonas.

I could write to him.

He might believe me.

Do.

Mark, would you be prepared

to take a letter down to the country for us immediately?

Leave it with me, sir.

Come with me to the Temple, Mark. I'll write it there.

I'm late for work as it is.

Strange...

Oh, it's not lock--

I think there may be an intruder.

Good morning, Mr. Pinch.

What kind of timekeeping do you call this?

Mr. Chuzzlewit!

Are you--are you my employer?

I intended to be with you sooner,

but you've occupied the time well.

It's been years since I've lived in this place.

I never knew it looked so inviting.

What are you staring at, Mr. Pinch?

You, sir.

You look so different.

I hope I do.

I was not what I seemed...in the country.

Ah. Who is this?

Mark Tapley, sir, formerly of the Blue Dragon.

I have a favorable recollection of you, Mr. Tapley.

You can be of service to me, perhaps.

Mr. Pinch, I shall want your assistance

in summoning a family conclave.

Gladly, sir, but--

Do you happen to know where my grandson is?

Well, I--

I do, sir.

You do?

Excellent. He will be the first to be invited.

But on no account tell him the reason.

Well, that won't be difficult, for I don't know it myself.

Quite.

Let's get to work, then.

Sir, I'm sorry to delay your purpose,

but I have some very serious and urgent intelligence

to convey to you.

Betsy...

I will propose a toast.

To my frequent partner, Betsy Prig!

Which, altering the name to Sairah Gamp...

I drink.

[Coughs]

[Coughing]

Now...

Where is this case in which you want me?

It ain't Mrs. Harris, is it?

No, Betsy Prig, it ain't.

Well, I'm glad of that!
[Laughing]

I don't know why you're glad, Betsy.

I've known that sweetest of women

ever since afore her first,

which Mr. Harris, who was dreadful timid,

went and stopped his ears in an empty dog kennel

and never came out till he was showed the baby.

But I never knowed as you had occasion to be glad, Betsy,

on account of Mrs. Harris not requiring you.

Requiring you she never will, neither,

because her constant words in sickness is, "Send for Sairey."

Well, if it ain't her, who is it, then?

It's Mr. Chuffey.

That old loony you told me of?

Mr. Chuffey's friends is proposing

that he is taken care of, day and night,

and they asked me, would I undertake it by my own self?

"No," I says,

"but I am acquainted with a friend.

"Her name is Betsy Prig [laughs]

And she is always to be trusted under me."

Ah! Eh, Betsy...

Drink fair, now.

Mrs. Harris once said to me--

Bother Mrs. Harris!

I don't believe there's no such person!

What?

Have--have I knowed Mrs. Harris for 5 and 30 years

to be told at last that there's no such person?

Have I stood her friend in all her troubles, great and small,

to come at last to such an end as this?

Go along with you!

I was already a-goin'!

You was offerin' to take me "under you," was you?

How very kind!

Well, deuce take your impertinence!

I will not debase myself by bargaining words with you! Be off!

You can keep your mad Chuffeys to yourself!

I won't have nothing to do with him!

You never said a truer word!
Go along with you!

[Sobbing]

[Coughing]

[Sobbing]

Well, my dear sir.

Good night, Pecksniff.

Thanks for dinner.

You must allow me to return the hospitality in Pall Mall.

I look forward to it.

When you come to town to count your profits.

Ah ha ha ha ha ha!

Well, good night.

Drive carefully.

Come on, move.

[Humming and chuckling to himself]

Here you are, Mr. Chuffey.

Mercy: Jonas. You're awake at last.

What time is it?

9:00 in the morning.

You've slept for a day and 2 nights,

yet you don't look rested.

I'm fine.

Did no one knock on my door then yesterday?

No. You said you were not be be disturbed.

Quite right.

[Knocks on table]

Butter.

Oh, a Mr. Nadgett called.

Nadgett?

What the devil does he want?

Some trouble at the office, he said.

I told him you'd given instructions not to be disturbed,

so he went away.

Well, I must call at the office.

I have to go out anyway.

There's nobody here!
Will you please go home?!

[Crowd yelling]

What's going on?

Haven't ya heard?
The company's smashed.

What?!

It's a complete swindle.

Did you have a policy with them?

More than a policy. My god!

You can say good-bye to it.

Crimple the secretary run off
with the money that was left.

Crimple?

What's more, Montague himself is reported murdered.

Already?

I mean, couldn't Crimple disguise his crime better than that?

It's obvious Crimple killed Montague.

You may be right.

[Gates clanging]

[Glass shattering]

Jonas: Nel!

[Footsteps on stairs]

Where's my wife?

Gone to Mrs. Todgers, sir.

She is always stealing off to that woman.

Go and tell her to come home.

Tell her I want her here now.

Yes, sir.

What have you done with her?

Nothing, you old fool!

If you hurt a hair of her head,

you shall answer for it!

I'll not keep silent again!

Why? What bedlam fit is upon you now?

I'm strong enough to call out for the neighbors.

Give her up!

Give her up to me, or I'll call out!

Call out, will you?

Then you must be locked up where nobody will hear you!

[Creaking]

Who's that?

Oh, good evening, sir!

Oh, it's you, Mrs. Gamp.

Your maid let me in on her way out.

Oh, it's a pleasant evening, though warm,

which we must expect when cowcumbers is 3 for tuppence.

Ha ha.

Now...Mr. Chuffey...

How do you find yourself this evening?

Is she come home?

Oh, she'll be home directly.

Oh, he's all of a-tremble, poor old thing.

Well, he may be, after all the mad things he's been saying.

Oh, dear.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Mr. Chuffey.

He's not fit to be left on his own any longer.

Let's get this business done.

I've forgotten the other woman's name.

I mentioned Betsy Prig, sir.

She's to be trusted, is she?

No, sir, that she ain't,

nor have I brought her.

But I have got another friend

what engages to give satisfaction.

What...is her name?

What's her name?

Her name, sir, is...

Mrs. Harris.

And you have agreed with her

to take care of him between you?

Yes, sir.

Good.
Well, bring her in.

T'other person, sir?

Yes, yes, this...
Mrs. Harris.

Well, go on, woman.

It's Mr. Chuzzlewit's wishes to see Mrs. Harris, is it?

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Well, as a matter of fact, sir, I--

Lor', what's the matter, sir?

Who the devil d'you mean

creeping about into my house like this, uncle?

Hmm?

Ecod, I thought I'd seen my father's ghost.

As well you might.

How did you get in here?
However it was, you can leave the same way.

I borrowed a key from your wife,

who is now under my protection.

Protection?

Protection from what?

From you.

Why, I've a good mind to throw you down the stairs.

I wouldn't do that if I were you,

much as I'd relish kicking you down after him.

Are there any more of you, then?

There are.

Bring him in.

Is that the man?

It is.

Why, I know that man.

He's the world's greatest liar.

What's his latest tale?

His signed deposition, wretched man,

is that you obtained from him lethal drugs

with which you poisoned my brother

and brought about his death.

Is that correct?

Lewsome: You can see it written in his face.

No! No!

It's true. He caused his father's death,

but not as you think.

He mixed the powder with my master's medicine,

but my master saw him doing it.

He told me of it.

And we threw the poisoned medicine away and replaced it,

but Jonas thought he was still taking it.

He knows he did!

It broke my master's heart

to think that his own son

wanted him dead so bad he would make away with him.

That's what killed him.

"I have sown...and I must reap," he said.

"Say nothing, Chuff, not now or after I have gone."

And I haven't until this moment.

No.

You satisfied now?

This story is no more creditable to you than the other.

You still wished to kill your father.

[Snickers]

You carry it with a high hand, uncle.

[Chuckles] It's not a hanging offense, I think,

for a man to keep a penn'orth of poison about his person

and then have it taken from him by 2 crazy old jolter-heads

who then go and act a play about it. Hmm? Hmm?

Do you see the door?

This is no place for you to remain, old friend.

Come with me.

Just like my master's voice.

I could almost believe he's alive again,

but I can't come with you.

I must stay, for her sake.

For whose sake?

They used to call her Merry.

She's safe with me.

You'd better send her home straight, or I'll have the law on you.

The law is here already.

That's the man.

Secure him.

Old Martin: What does this mean?

Nadgett: Murder, that's what it means.

Who are you?

My name is Nadgett.

He's nothing.
He's nobody.

My calling is to watch people,

to watch them, follow them,

and to, uh, report on them,

sometimes to make sure they don't leave the country.

You. Ha ha ha.

You sent Pinch on board the boat with a letter.

Reminding you that the suspicious circumstances of your father's death,

involving this man here,

were, if communicated to the police,

enough to warrant your arrest upon the river.

Yes, I...I have been watching this man for a long time.

He has no idea how long.

I'm only sorry I wasn't watching

when he slipped away from this house

the night before last.

If I had been, I might have saved a life.

But I was watching when he returned in disguise early this morning.

And I was watching later when he tried to sink a bag under London bridge--

Damn you! Damn you!

Which was subsequently recovered

and found to contain...

a countryman's clothes stained with blood

and answering to a description of a man

seen alighting from a coach on Salisbury Plain

early yesterday morning,

not 15 miles from the scene of the crime.

What crime?

The murder of Mr. Tigg Montague.

Formerly...Montague Tigg.

I thought our paths would cross again one day,

but I little thought

I should be arresting a kinsman of mine for his murder.

Why do you call him kinsman?

For the same reason that I might call you.

Me?

My name's Chevy Slyme.

If it be some disgrace to see your own blood employed this way,

I'm ready to be bought out.

No.

No, do your duty.

Roberts, Dalton, bring round the coach,

and we'll take him to the gaol.

God have mercy on your soul.

Mercy? Is she come home yet?

Come with me, old friend.

I'll bring you to her.

Come here.

What is it?

Put your hand in my pocket,

my inside breast pocket.

There's 100 pounds in there.

No. I can't. I daren't.

Not to let me escape.

I know that's impossible.

Just for 5 minutes alone in the next room.

100 pounds for 5 minutes...
Alone.

To do what?

Are you guilty?

It must end so at last...then.

Less disgrace on the family.

[Handcuffs clanging]

[Ankle restraints clanging]

Stop.

Will you engage to say a...

a prayer now or something of that sort?

[Door opens]

You're too soon.

One minute more.

Officer: Here...

Take your money back.

No.

[Convulsing]

[Jonas gasps and gags]

Roberts! Dalton! Help here.

[Knock on door]

[Door closes]

Morning, sir.

Why are all these people here?

'Cause your grandfather invited 'em.

[Clock chiming softly]

[Clock tolling]

[Knock on door]

[Door closes]

Mr. Chuzzlewit, my venerable friend,

is this what happens

as soon as you leave the protection of my humble abode?

These bloodsuckers,

these vermin begin to swarm around you again.

It is too bad, really it is.

It shakes one's faith in human nature.

For shame!

Leave him alone!

Leave him, I say.

Fear not, my dear sir.

You have not summoned me in vain.

I will defend you from these swarmers.

Pecksniff, is that a sovereign on the floor behind you?

A sovereign?

I think not.

Just there, in front of you.

Aah!

[Gasps]

Drag him away!

Take him out of my reach!
Villain!

[Pecksniff screams]

Hypocrite!

I am not--I am not angry.

I am hurt.

I am injured in my feelings,

b-but I am not angry.

I am angry, sir.

I am angry...

But my anger is not only directed at you.

The curse of this family is the love of self.

It always has been.

I see it still in some of your faces.

But, god forgive me, I did not recognize it in myself.

There is a kind of selfishness

which is constantly on the watch

for selfishness in others...

And, holding others at a distance

by suspicions and distrusts,

wonders why they don't approach...

and don't confide.

Thus...I once doubted those dearest to me.

Martin, come here.

Mary, my dear...

This is my grandson,

whom I have brought up to be my heir.

This is the orphan girl whom I brought up to be my companion,

but who became more like a daughter to me.

How did I think Martin

could be exposed to the sunshine of her sweet nature

without falling in love with her?

Well, perhaps I did anticipate such a union,

but I wanted it to be of my making...

My gift.

When Martin made his choice without consulting me,

we quarreled bitterly, and I disinherited him.

I repented my action...almost at once.

I even redrafted my will in his favor.

But then this snake Pecksniff came on the scene...

pretending to be his friend.

This made me so suspicious I destroyed the new will.

I decided to test Pecksniff's sincerity.

In front of his own children,

I asked him to dismiss Martin

instantly from his household.

He agreed without a second's hesitation.

I resolved to test his duplicity to the limit.

I put myself entirely in his hands,

but every time I thought I got to the bottom of his evildoing,

new depths revealed themselves.

It became a fascination to me

to see how far he would go.

But when my grandson returned from a perilous voyage

seeking reconciliation with me

and this vile hypocrite

presumed to send him packing in my name,

then I thought enough is enough!

Pecksniff...

I have brought you here today

not merely to denounce you,

but make you witness the happiness

of those you sought to injure.

I have made a new will.

[Murmuring]

Everyone here present, except Pecksniff,

will be named as a beneficiary

for a minimum of 50 pounds.

Anyone who addresses a single word

to me on the subject of money

from this time on, immediately forfeits

his or her right to a legacy.

Some who have been stalwart and selfless friends

to Martin and Mary

will receive much more generous bequests--

Mr. Tapley...

and Mrs. Lupin--

who is, I understand, shortly to change her name

to Tapley.

Mr. Pinch--

Tom Pinch--

whom I misjudged at first,

but whose goodness acted like summer rain upon my heart

in my long confinement at Pecksniff's.

Mrs. Todgers has been rewarded

for her kindness to Mrs. Chuzzlewit.

Mercy herself, I propose to take under my own protection.

The bulk of my estate...

I have bequeathed...to my grandson Martin,

on condition that he marry my ward Mary Graham.

May God bless you both.

You may plight your troth in the usual fashion.

[Kiss]

Now leave this place, Pecksniff,

and poison my sight no longer.

You have partaken of my hospitality, Mr. Chuzzlewit.

And paid for it.

Yes, thank you.

That savors of your old familiar frankness.

I was about to make the same remark myself.

But you...

have deceived me.

To be deceived implies a trusting nature.

I would rather have a trusting nature

than a doubting one.

I came here today...

Already weighed down by misfortune.

Because of an unfortunate speculation, combined with treachery,

I find myself bankrupted.

The child of my bosom

is a widow in circumstances of deep disgrace.

I have been unjustly stripped of an architectural prize.

I was received here with blows, blows to my frame,

but much more hurtful, painful blows to my heart.

And yet...

I forgive you.

Good morning to you, sir.

Ow!

Oh, drat the boy.

Bailey! What are you doing here?

There's no persuadin' him to walk in a straight line

like an ordinary Christian.

He arrived on your doorstep, ma'am, half an hour ago,

sayin' he'd lost his memory on account of an accident,

and the only thing he could remember

was the name of Todgers--

Todgers.

Which an honest cabby knew where it was

and delivered him like a parcel.

Bailey, do you know me?

I knows your voice.

It reminds me of the smell of boot polish.

Was you ever married to a man called Jinkins?

[Titters]
Oh, gracious, Bailey,

have you acquired second sight in place of a memory?

Sit down here. Be quiet.

Mrs. Gamp, wasn't Mrs. Chuzzlewit

left in your charge?

Yes, sir, but she told me

to bring the letter to her sister at once,

in case it was important.

A letter for me?

Yes, ma'am. It's from a Mr. Moddle.

It says so on the outside--from Tilbury.

But Augustus is at his office in Cheapside.

He specifically told me that he would be there all day.

Ohh...

Ohh!

Aah.

"Ever-injured Miss Pecksniff:

"Before this reaches you,

"the undersigned will be--if not a corpse--

"at sea, bound for Tasmania.

"Send not in pursuit.

"I will not be taken alive.

"I love another. She is another's.

"Everything appears to be somebody else's.

"Oh, Miss Pecksniff, why didn't you leave me alone?

"But I will not reproach,

"for I have wronged you.

May the furniture make some amends."

Furniture?
Does he mean future?

No. I believe the allusion

is to a four-poster bed, sir.

"Farewell.

"Be the bride of a ducal coronet and forget me.

"Unalterably, never yours...

Augustus."

Poor Miss Pecksniff.
I wouldn't have believed it.

Oh, uh, try these smelling salts, ma'am,

failing which, burning brown paper under the nose

is a sovereign remedy.

Ah, oh, she's coming round.

[Sighing]

Her sister is widowed, sir.

Mrs. Harris, who has knowed me many years,

will tell you she can't do better,

and she may do worse.

Then let me wait upon her...permanent.

Mr. Tapley.
Yes, sir?

Has this good person been paid for the trouble we gave her?

I paid her in advance, sir. Liberal.

Then here we will close our acquaintance, Mrs. Gamp.

I would not advise you to come to me for a testimonial.

Allow me merely to recommend that in future

you take a little less liquor...

And a little more care of your patients.

Good day to you.

[Birds chirping]

Well, my dears,

all's well that ends well, eh?

If I had less reason to reproach myself, grandfather,

I might reproach you for all poor Mary

has suffered by your deception.

It was not much, Martin.

In my heart, I never doubted that your grandfather

would come to his senses one day.

No, he's right, my dear.

It was cruel of me to keep you in the dark for so long.

Selfishness again.

Can you forgive me?

I never entirely rejected you, Martin, in my heart.

Do you remember receiving a 20-pound bank note?

You sent it?
How did you know where I was?

I saw your advertisement in the newspaper--

"care of Chuzzlewit" did not deceive me.

If I had known it came from you,

I would never have gone to America.

I hoped to bring you back to me penitent...

and humbled,

but I was too proud to reveal my own hand.

Humph.

Well, that's all past,
yes...

my boy?

Grandfather.

Tom?

Oh, Ruth.

What a morning for revelations, eh?

Including one that was never uttered.

What do you mean?

You love her, don't you?

Oh, Tom...

I feel so for you.

Come, come.

This is no crying matter.

By her own choice, she is betrothed to Martin

and was long before either of them

knew of my existence.

And do you think, even if she'd never seen him,

she would've fallen in love with me?

Yes, she would've.
Of course she would've.

It's so unfair.

You think of me, Ruth--

and it is very natural that you should--

as if I were a character in a book,

and you make it a kind of a poetical justice

that I should, by some impossible means or other,

come at last to marry the person that I love.

But there is a higher justice

than the poetical kind, my dear.

I don't grieve for the impossible.