Nicholas Nickleby Page #2
Squeers, this is the boy I told you about. | My nephew.
I am most grateful for the opportunity | to serve, sir.
- Mr. Squeers. | - Mrs. Shaygar.
Could you give those to Henry? | Tuesday is his birthday.
Delighted, my dear. | The boy's happiness is our prime concern.
Three inside, two little ones up top.
Get up behind. If a boy drops off the back, | that's 20 a year lost.
If he is the schoolmaster, | what kind of school can it be?
I hardly know.
Bless you both.
Goodbye.
Someday, we will once again | share the protection of the same roof...
and revive the happiness denied to us now.
I promise.
Young man.
Forgive me. I know the world.
Your father didn't...
or he wouldn't have done me a kindness | without hope of a return.
You don't, or you wouldn't be bound | on such a journey.
If ever you should need help | or shelter in London...
Oh, dear. I once thought I never should.
They know where I live, | at the Sign of the Crown in Golden Square.
You can come at night.
- Once, nobody was ashamed. | - Ashamed?
Where are you, Nickleby? Up.
If you should go near Barnard Castle, | there's good ale at the King's Head.
Say you know me, | and I'm sure they won't charge you for it.
And...
you may say "Mr. Noggs" there...
for I was a gentleman then.
I was.
- Walk on. | - Goodbye, Nicholas.
Whoa!
Smike!
Is this Dotheboys Hall?
No need to call it a hall up here.
We call it that in London, | because it sounds better.
Hurry, lad!
Where the devil were you?
Please, sir...
I fell asleep over the fire.
Missus said I might go in there for a warm.
You'd have been a deuced deal | more wakeful out in the cold.
Is that my Squeery?
The crime of my dead eye, my love...
is that I can't see you twice.
- How's the pig? | - Just as you left her.
And the boys?
Young Braithwaite's had a fever.
Third time this year.
I say it's obstinacy, | and we beat it out of him.
No one can cure an illness | quicker than you, my love.
This is the new man, Mr. Nickleby.
- I hope you're not hungry. | - I am.
Of course you are.
I've got a nice hot stew | for you here, Squeery.
And there's bread on the table.
I brought the letters to the boys, | I'll read them in the morning.
- I'm doing the brimstone first. | - Of course you are.
Grand piece of meat in that, Squeery. | Put the heat back in you.
Aye, it will.
- How was your journey, my pet? | - Dreadful.
- Was it perishing? | - Torture.
What?
Have you...
Did anybody...
Has nothing been heard...
about me?
Not a word, and never will we.
But count your blessings. | You've been here all these years...
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Nicholas Nickleby" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 May 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/nicholas_nickleby_14747>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In