Original subtitles

(Theme music playing)

(Horse-drawn carriages rolling by)

How do you do?

- How do you do, Susan? - Oh!

Oh. Very well, thank you, Mr. Toots.

Miss Floy-- Miss Florence is busy at present.

It's of no consequence, thank ye.

How's Diogenes going on?

Miss Floy grows fonder and fonder of him.

These are for Miss Dombey.

Oh! (Shrieks)

- (Barks) - Diogenes.

- (Barks, growling) - Diogenes.

- You're ruining-- - Susan--

- (barking continues) - Susan: Diogenes, come here!

- (Susan shouts) - (Clock chiming)

Here, dog!

- I have the honor to address Miss Dombey? - Yes.

My name is Carker, Miss Dombey.

I am your father's manager.

I could hardly hope to be remembered.

You were no more than eight years old when I saw you last.

Alas, I have no news of Walter Gay,

but they have still not given up the ship for lost.

How can I help you, Mr. Carker?

It is rather how I may help you, Miss Dombey.

I have business with your father in leamington on Wednesday.

I wondered if you might care to entrust me with any little commission.

I am obliged to you, Mr. Carker,

but I have already very recently written to my father.

Then you have nothing to send?

Nothing... but my dear love.

- Rest assured, I shall give him that. - (Chuckles)

Good morning, Mr. Carker.

(Bell clangs)

Where is Sol Gills?

- Flowed. - Flowed?

Flowed, gone.

All right, heave ahead, boy!

- Where is he? - I tell you he's gone. He's left his keys.

I found 'em when I come down this morning.

"For Captain Cuttle." See?

I came down, found the shop door unbolted and him gone.

Here, what have I done to be looked at?

Don't sing afore you're hurt, boy.

I ain't done nothing. A fine situation this is

for a lad who's just got himself a situation--

master bolted, and him blamed for it.

Sol's voice: "My dear Ned Cuttle,

enclosed is my will and testament--"

- where is it? - Where's what?

Here's the will. Where's the testament?

I ain't touched no testament.

Sol's voice: "Enclosed is my will and testament

which don't break open for a year,

or until you have decisive intelligence

of my dear Walter,

who is dear to you too, Ned.

If you should never hear of me again,

remember an old friend kindly.

Keep a home in the old place for Walter

in case he should return.

I leave no debts, Ned.

The loan from Dombey is paid off,

and all my keys I send with this.

It will be useless for you

to make any inquiry for me, dear Ned.

If all else should come to the hammer,

take care of the little wooden midshipman.

From your true friend,

Solomon Gills."

Well, what I think is that when Mr. Gills

was in and out of here so often these past few days,

he was taking little things away so as not to attract attention.

I don't see no shaving tackle in his room,

nor no shirts or shoes either.

Fine situation this is. I haven't done nothing.

(Murmuring)

Lock up after I've gone.

Don't open up again till I comes home tonight.

Aye, Captain.

You will continue to be rated on these here books.

And I don't say but what you might get promoted

- if you and me should pull together. - You and me, Captain.

I am going into the instrument business till old Sol gets back.

You and me are going to keep house together

on these premises.

Where are you going, Captain?

To search every station house,

every workhouse, every bonehouse in the city, lad,

every wharf, bankside,

and ditch.

Lock up.

Your most obedient servant, sir.

Any friend of my friend Dombey is a friend of mine.

I am infinitely obliged to Major Bagstock, Carker,

for his company and conversation.

May I take the liberty of congratulating you, Major,

for having effected so great an improvement

in Mr. Dombey's looks and spirits?

Give and take affair, sir. No thanks due to me.

And now, Dombey, you and your manager

must have the devil's amount of business to talk over.

- By no means. - Gad, sir, I know different.

A man of your Mark, the colossus of commerce,

is not to be interrupted.

Every moment is precious.

We shall meet, sir, at dinner.

(Chuckles) I beg your pardon, Dombey,

but have you any message to 'em?

My compliments, Major.

Damme, sir, make it something warmer than that.

My regards then, if you will.

Our friend, sir, is sly,

devilish sly. (Laughing)

(Laughing continues)

You must have found Major Bagstock a great resource.

Very great indeed.

He has friends here, no doubt.

I perceive from what he said

that you go into society here.

I am glad of that. I have been amazed that you

should have held it at arm's length for so long.

I have been a stranger to society.

Of all the gentlemen that I know,

you are the best adapted

by nature and by position for society.

I shall have the pleasure to present you to my--

to the Major's friends, highly agreeable people.

Ladies among them, I presume.

They are all-- that is to say, they are both ladies.

I have confined my visits to their residence.

- I have made no other acquaintance here. - Sisters, perhaps?

Mother and daughter.

They take lodgings while they reside in leamington.

Speaking of daughters, I have seen Miss Dombey.

I took the liberty of waiting upon her

to inquire if she might care to charge me with any little commission.

She sends her dear love.

What business intelligence is there?

Very little.

Upon the whole, we have not had

our usual good fortune of late,

but that is of little moment to you.

At Lloyd's, they have finally given up

the "defiance" for lost.

Lost?

Well, she was insured

from her keel to her masthead.

And did I mention that there was something

like a little confidence between Miss Dombey and myself

about young Gay?

That young man never impressed me favorably.

Nor me.

But I wish now he had never been sent out.

I have no doubt that wherever Gay is,

he is better there than at home.

Will you check these balances with me?

Ah!

(Knock at door)

(Groans) What insupportable creature is this?

I cannot bear it.

(Knock at door)

Go away, whoever you are.

You haven't the heart to banish J.B., ma'am.

Oh, it's you.

On second thoughts, you may enter.

And how is J.B.'S Cleopatra?

Sit down a long way off.

Don't come too near to me.

I am feeling frightfully faint and sensitive this afternoon,

and you smell of the sun.

You're positively tropical, you naughty infidel.

Where is Mrs. Granger?

In her room, ma'am.

Very well. Go away and shut the door.

I am engaged.

And how is our friend?

Dombey, ma'am, is as well as a man can be in his condition.

And his condition is a desperate one, ma'am.

He is touched, bayoneted through the body.

I do not understand your meaning.

Is there an allusion to Edith in your words?

Bluntness has always been a characteristic of the Bagstock breed, ma'am.

Joe admits it.

Aggravating monster.

Shall we marry him to Edith Granger, ma'am?

He's a great catch.

Mercenary wretch, I am shocked.

Dombey, ma'am, is in earnest.

- You really think so? - Sure of it.

His right-hand man has just arrived from London.

Doubtless, Dombey wishes to acquaint him with what's in the wind.

And I have a note here for Mrs. Granger.

Edith, my dearest.

Where on earth have you been all day?

You said you felt unwell, so I stayed away.

(Chuckles)

Major Bagstock, my darling girl--

"my darling girl"?

--Who is generally the most useless

and disagreeable creature--

not woman yet, mother?

How very odd you are today, Edith.

The Major has brought you a note from Mr. Dombey.

I have no desire to read it.

He proposes that you and your mother

should go with us again to the Abbey tomorrow, ma'am.

I shall answer it myself

and send him your regards, Edith.

What you will.

Dombey and your daughter are well matched, ma'am.

Let 'em fight it out.

Steady.

Stop, Withers.

My dear Mr. Dombey,

I am afraid we are a little late.

Falsest of Majors, how do you do?

Mrs. Skewton, let me gratify my friend Carker

by presenting him to you.

You have heard me mention Mr. Carker.

I am charmed, I am sure.

My daughter Mrs. Granger.

Edith, my love.

Here is an arm for Mrs. Granger,

if she will do J.B. the honor of accepting it.

Push, Withers.

I am quite rejoiced, Mr. Carker,

that you have timed your visit so happily

as to go with us today.

It will be the most enchanting expedition.

Any expedition would be enchanting in such society.

Oh! (Chuckles)

You will find the Abbey charming.

Associations of the middle ages and all that.

Don't you dote upon the middle ages, Mr. Carker?

Very much indeed.

Mrs. Skewton: Such charming times,

the middle ages, Mr. Carker.

So full of faith,

so vigorous, so possible,

so picturesque.

Oh, those darling bygone days, Mr. Carker,

with their delicious fortresses,

and dear old dungeons,

and their delightful places of torture.

(Titters) Everything to make life charming.

How dreadfully we have degenerated.

Yes, we have fallen off deplorably.

We have no faith left

in the dear old barons,

or in the dear old priests,

or even in the golden days

of the inestimable queen Bess

and that charming father of hers.

(Chuckles) Don't you dote on Harry viii, Mr. Carker?

I admire him very much.

So bluff, wasn't he,

dear king Harry? (Chuckles)

So burly,

so truly English.

Such a picture he makes

with his dear little Peepy eyes

and that benevolent chin.

If you talk of pictures, ma'am,

there is a composition for you.

What gallery in the world can produce

the counterpart of that?

This visit must be very tedious for you, I'm afraid.

Not at all.

You must have been here many times.

I think we've been everywhere.

The countryside is beautiful.

I suppose it is. Everybody says so.

I am tired of the neighborhood.

You sketch, I think. I believe I saw a sketchbook.

- Your mother's, perhaps? - I sketch.

- And you play the piano and sing? - Yes.

Then you must have many resources against weariness.

And now you know them all.

I have no more.

May I hope to prove them all?

Bagstock: Come, Dombey. We go for luncheon.

As you wish.

(Laughing)

I have it in mind, sir, to propose

the renaming of the royal hotel.

It should be called "the three jolly bachelors"

in honor of ourselves and Dombey.

(Both laugh)

I have requested Mrs. Granger's permission

to call on her tomorrow morning for a purpose.

She has appointed 12:00.

May I have the pleasure of finding you at home afterwards, madam?

Oh, Mr. Dombey.

(Classical tune)

Why didn't you tell me he was coming here

tomorrow by appointment?

Since you already know, what would have been the point?

Really, Edith.

He has bought me, mother.

- Is that not what you wanted? - Edith!

He has considered his bargain.

He's shown it off to his friend.

He thinks that it will suit him nicely

and that it might be had cheap.

Tomorrow he'll buy it.

God,

that I have lived for this.

What do you mean? Haven't you, from a child--

- a child? - --Known--

when was I a child?

What childhood did you ever leave to me?

I was an artful, designing, mercenary woman

laying snares for men

long before I knew myself or you,

or even understood the base and wretched aim

of every new display I learnt.

You gave birth to a woman, mother.

Look on her.

She is in her pride tonight.

I have made every effort

to secure you a good establishment.

Well, now you've got it, be thankful!

- Thankful? - (Men outside laughing, conversing)

There is no slave in a market

or horse in a fair

who has been so shown,

offered, paraded,

and examined

as I have been for the last 10 years.

I shall go to bed.

Here we've almost come to be notorious,

you and I.

I have been hawked and vended here and there

until the last grain of self-respect

is dead within me,

and I loathe myself.

You could have been well married

20 times at least.

Mother, I tell you, this man, if he takes me tomorrow,

takes me with no encouragement from myself.

I have used no art to lure him.

He has seen me at auction,

and he thinks he might buy me.

Well, let him.

He makes the purchase of his own will,

with his own sense of its worth.

I hope it may never disappoint him.

You speak so strangely

tonight, Edith.

It's stranger to me than to you.

Mother, I am too old now

and have fallen too low by degrees

to take a new course and help myself.

All I can say is that I have kept

the only purpose I have had the strength to form.

I have not tempted this man on.

You speak as if you hated him.

Do you think I love him?

(Sighs)

There is someone who knows us thoroughly, mother.

He reads us right.

He knows.

I am degraded by his knowledge of me.

This is an attack, I suppose,

on poor, unfortunate Mr. Carker.

I saw you looking at one another this afternoon.

I have even less self-respect before him

than I do before my own inward self.

Well, my dear,

Mr. Carker struck me as being most agreeable.

And your want of confidence in reference to him

is hardly likely to have much effect

on your establishment with Mr. Dombey.

Is it?

Go to bed, mother.

- Are you ill? - Go to bed!

- Well? - It's Captain Cuttle, sir.

What is it?

Mr. Carker, sir,

when I was here last,

we was very pleasant together.

Captain Cuttle, I must ask you

to be quick, if you please.

- I am much engaged. - Oh.

I should like you to set my mind at rest, sir,

on something it's uneasy about.

Is this about Walter Gay again?

Aye, young Walter Gay.

What is it you are uneasy about, Captain?

(Sighs)

Afore my friend went on this here disastrous voyage--

oh, come come come come, Captain Cuttle.

We know nothing of disastrous voyages here.

If you find any pleasure in this here sport, lad,

then you ain't the gentleman I took you for.

And if you ain't the gentleman I took you for, then maybe I got call to be uneasy.

Afore that lad went away,

he told me he warn't going for his own good nor for promotion.

It was my belief he was wrong, and I told him so.

And I come here, your head governor being absent,

to ask you a question or two in a civil way.

Them questions you answered free.

- So? - Now...

I come alongside again

because it'll ease my mind to know I warn't mistaken,

that I warn't backward in my duty

when I didn't tell Sol Gills what the boy told me.

What I should want to know, Mr. Carker, is this:

Was the wind truly in Walter's sails

when he set off to Barbados?

Captain Cuttle, I must ask you to do me a favor.

Well, what's that, sir?

Have the goodness to walk off, if you please,

and carry your jargon somewhere else.

I was much too lenient with you, Captain,

when you came here before.

In my desire to save young...

What's-his-name

from being kicked out of this place neck and crop,

I tolerated you but for once and for once only.

Now go.

Stand by, man. Stand by.

Go like a sensible fellow.

If Mr. Dombey were here,

you might be obliged to leave

in a more ignominious manner.

My lad, as many words

I should wish to say to you...

But I don't rightly know where they're stowed at present.

But you and me will come alongside of one another again one day.

You Mark my words.

It will be anything but shrewd of you if we do.

Is anything the matter, Towlinson?

Your father is here, miss. He's waiting to speak to you.

And this, Mrs. Skewton,

is a portrait of my father.

Mrs. Skewton: Oh, really, sir?

So heroic.

Founder of the house of Dombey & Son.

(Barks)

- Look! - Papa.

Oh, uh... come here. Come here, Diogenes.

Good boy. Take him upstairs, Susan.

What dog is that?

Oh, he's from Brighton, papa.

He used to be a special friend to Paul.

Please forgive him. He was only pleased to see you.

Charming. So natural.

Mrs. Skewton, this is my daughter.

You must come and kiss me if you please, my darling.

Edith, my daughter Florence.

This lady, Florence, will soon be your mama.

Oh.

Papa, may you be very very happy all your life.

Oh.

Shall we go on through the rooms?

Allow me, my dear madam.

You will not begin by hating me, will you?

By hating you?

Please begin by thinking well of me, Florence.

I will try so hard to make you happy.

Mrs. Skewton: We must ask Edith.

Edith, my dear, where are you?

I am prepared to love you, Florence.

(Theme music playing)