Becky Sharp Page #6

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How he drank? How drink killed his talent,

his hopes, his wife?

When he beat her. And when I begged him

"Daddy, Daddy, don't strike her, strike me!".

What do you think he did?

I'll tell you:
he struck me.

Oh, my sweet Becky. My poor darling.

Oh, don't pity me, perhaps I'm lying.

Perhaps I'm inventing the story as I go along.

I don't care, I still love you.

Oh, that's what I wanted to hear.

Love me, Rawdon. Love me.

I've had so little love in my life.

I've been kicked about so much.

Take me away from here.

Oh, but Becky, we couldn't do that.

My aunt would disinherit me.

Who cares if she does?

We mean more to each other than money.

Oh, darling, get a hackney coach.

Come for me when it's dark.

Oh, why did I want you, my silly?

What have you? Not a penny, not a plan , not ambition.

But we'll make out, my Rawdon, we'll make out.

Life owes me many things and I intend to get them.

All it takes is the least touch of wit.

Oh, don't look so disturbed.

I don't expect you to supply the wit.

That's my dowry to you.

Lieutenant Osborne, you silly!

I'll not have you saying such things in my house.

Marriage is far too sacred to jest about.

Amelia, did you hear what your husband said?

No, darling.

He said Rawdon was prolonging our honeymoon

just to scare other men away from me.

George is such a wit.

Yes, both of you are, dear.

Do you think I've done justice to your treasure,

Lieutenant Osborne?

Beautiful, so delicate.

Is that all the praise I deserve?

Oh, Amelia, your husband's embarrassing me.

He simply doesn't respond to art.

Don't be too critical, love.

Your beauty is too gentle to reproduce.

Becky, how talented you are.

It's lovely...

George, what the deuce is keeping you?

We want you back in the game.

Oh, George, please don't play anymore.

You've lost so much lately.

Oh, let him play.

Gambling is an agreeable vice for a young man.

We can't afford it. We're already in debt.

In debt?

Lo, my precious, look about you.

This is the house that debt built.

Why, I'm wearing a debt dress, standing on a debt rug.

We must owe money to every shopkeeper in London.

We mustn't, but we do. Come on, George.

Let me touch your hand. It will bring you luck.

Gentlemen, I said ace and I keep my word.

It's still pretty short.

Why not, it's quite earned.

Where's your lady, Rawdon? She promised

to stand behind my chair and bring me luck.

She promised me that.

That's the way she entices Rawdon's victims.

To the victims she pays no favors,

does she, gentlemen?

George, would you like to throw an eight?

How many years since I heard you play last?

It was on your own harpsichord.

How I envied you for it.

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