Little Dorrit

Amy Dorrit:
I don't think I shall ever learn to be a lady of leisure, Fanny.

Fanny Dorrit:
Now that is not the spirit, is it? Of course it is hard. It's downright boring sometimes but one just has to work at it.

[Mr Merdle has committed suicide. The doctor has called at his house to break the news to Mrs Merdle]

Doctor:
Mr Merdle is dead.

Scary Butler:
[coldly] I see. In that case I should want to give one month's notice.

Doctor:
Mr Merdle has destroyed himself.

Scary Butler:
Yes, it's very unpleasant, Sir, to the feelings of one in my position. I think I should leave immediately.

Lawyer:
Good God, man! If you are not shocked, are you at least not surprised? Your master is dead, and by his own hand.

Scary Butler:
Sir, Mr Merdle never was quite the gentleman and no ungentlemanly act on his part could surprise me.

[Fanny and Edmund discuss the impact of Mr Merdle's suicide and the collapse of his bank]

Fanny Dorrit:
What a dreadful thing, Sparkler.

Sparkler:
[ineffectually] Horrid. Horrid.

Fanny Dorrit:
And with our mother-of-pearl penknife, too.

Sparkler:
I know, my love - shocking.

Fanny Dorrit:
If I had known what he wanted it for I might not have lent it to him. And now the Coroner's got it, I suppose, and heaven knows when I shall get it back.

Sparkler:
I know, dear heart. It's very... vexing.

Fanny Dorrit:
Are you fearfully cut-up about it, Sparkler? Was you very close to him?

Sparkler:
Well I am a *bit* cut-up about it, Fanny. Of course it's not as if he was my *real* papa, but he wasn't a bad stick. The mater found him fearfully annoying, but I didn't. I think the *bird* was rather fond of him.

[Sparkler walks over to Merdle's parrot]

Sparkler:
I know *he* was fond of *it*.

Fanny Dorrit:
Sparkler?

Sparkler:
Yes, my dearest love.

Fanny Dorrit:
What is to become of us now? Are we rich or are we poor?

Sparkler:
We may have to tighten our belts a little. Perhaps find a smaller place in a less expensive part of town.

Fanny Dorrit:
[coldly] Such as where?

Sparkler:
[diffidently] Erm... Fulham?

Fanny Dorrit:
[shouts] Fulham?

[Mrs Merdle has returned from Venice after hearing the news about Mr Merdle's suicide]

Mrs. Merdle:
So, we are ruined. Everything lost.

Fanny Dorrit:
[with barely suppressed glee] Well, ma'am, I believe *you* are ruined. We are not quite. Sparkler still has his job, and I have my own money. And if the worst comes to the worst, I could always go back to the theatre. And, who knows, perhaps you could go back to doing whatever it is that *you* did before Mr Sparkler and Mr Merdle. But I don't think we've come to that just yet. And, Lord knows, we wouldn't see you out on the street, would we, Sparkler?

Sparkler:
Good heavens, no. Heaven forbid.

Mrs. Merdle:
So I am to be dependent on your goodwill, am I?

Fanny Dorrit:
You'll be all right, Mrs M, as long as you remember your Ps and Qs. Now this is the plan. Sparkler and I do not intend to be paying off Merdle's old bills, otherwise we shall soon find ourselves in Queer Street. We shall be leaving rather quietly by the back gate, and rather late at night, and lie low until the fuss dies down. I dare say you're not so grand, but it's what you might have heard of as a "moonlight flit". You may even have done one once or twice in your... younger days. So what d'you say, Mrs M? Are you game for it?

Mrs. Merdle:
My dear Fanny, I am entirely in your hands.

Fanny Dorrit:
[insincerely] That's nice.

Arthur Clennam:
I have thought about you, every day, every hour, every minute, that I have been in here.

Amy Dorrit:
[asks John Chivery] And will you give him a message from me? Will you tell him I sent my undying love?

Amy Dorrit:
Well, the truth is... I have nothing [she smiles] . Father placed his money with Merdle, just like everybody else. So now will you share my fortune with me?

Arthur Clennam:
Oh my dear love. Gladly!

John Chivery:
[Knocks. Comes in and sets down writing desk and box]

Arthur Clennam:
Ahh, thank you, John. I'm sorry to have given you any trouble. [Silence. Sighs] Are you angry with me, John?

John Chivery:
Tell you what, Mr. Clennam. If you weren't under a cloud, which you are, and if it wasn't against all the rules of the Marselsea, which it is, I'd sooner be having a ram with you than shaking your hand! Beg your pardon.

Arthur Clennam:
Freely granted. But, ah, what is it, John?

John Chivery:
Don't mind my sayin' so, sir, you don't look very well to me. How long since you've eaten anythin'?

Arthur Clennam:
Oh, I don't have any appetite. I don't think I could eat.

John Chivery:
Do you not think that even if it's not worthwhile to take care of yourself for your own sake, it's worth doin' for somebody else's?

Arthur Clennam:
Truly, I don't know for whose.

John Chivery:
You don't know whose? You can say that to me?

Arthur Clennam:
I don't understand, John. I don't mean to offend you.

John Chivery:
I had got over it. I had! I might never thought of it again. I may not be a gentleman, but I am a man. Why do you think I found this room for you that you'd like and carried up the things for you when I really felt like knockin' you down? Do you think I did it for your own sake? I didn't do it for you! I did it for her!

Arthur Clennam:
For who?

John Chivery:
For Amy! Because she loves you!

Arthur Clennam:
[Shocked] What?

John Chivery:
Oh, oh! How can you say you don't know it? Anyone with eyes could see it! These walls know it! You're so lofty, so far above the rest of us, you don't even notice it. All the time I was breakin' my heart over her, she was breakin' her's over you! [Sobs] Well, s'all do now. So if you, uh, won't take anythin' else, I'll say goodnight, Sir.

Arthur Clennam:
Goodnight, John.

John Chivery:
[Holds out hand]

Arthur Clennam:
[Grabs and shakes]

John Chivery:
Here lie the mortal remains of John Chivery, Assistant Turnkey and later Chief Turnkey of the Marshalsea Prison for Debt. He was unlucky in love and endured a good deal of sorrow, but he rose above it and performed many an act of kindness, even to his rival. And always engraved, on stone, deep into his very heart, is the name of "Amy Dorrit".

Plornish:
The way I see it Mr Clennam, there's ups and downs... dont ask me why, why ups, why downs, but there are these, you know... but I've heard it given through a truth, that as the world goes goes round, so it comes round again... now you're down now, no doubt about it, but you'll be up, when your turn comes round again.

Arthur Clennam:
What are the claims this department makes on Mr William Dorrit?

Tite Barnacle Jr.:
Oh, no. Oh, no. That's... that's not the way to do it. Upon my soul, you mustn't just barge in here saying you want to know, you know.

Flora Finching:
Then you do find me changed and I am. It's so dreadful. People who don't know us might suppose I'm Papa's Mama!

Arthur Clennam:
No, no.No, that must be a long time hence.

John Chivery:
John Chivery. [Brushing hair] Mr. and Mrs. John Chivery. [Straightening sleeves] Mr. John Chivery, Head Turnkey of the famous Marselsea Prison [buttoning sleeves] and his beloved wife, Amy. [Straightens vest] Here lies John Chivery. 60 years Turnkey and his truly beloved wife, Amy. [Grabs coat and top hat and leaves]

Amy Dorrit:
[Holding Clennam's discarded shirt button and hears John Chivery approach] John, is it you? [Sees his appearance and turns and hides button]

John Chivery:
I - I'm afraid... Did I disturb you? I took the liberty of walkin' this way because Mr. Dorrit chanced to mention you might be here.

Amy Dorrit:
Did he? [Turns away]

John Chivery:
Have I done something to upset you?

Amy Dorrit:
[Looks at him and shakes head no]

John Chivery:
[Takes off top hat] We've always been good friends, you and I haven't we, Amy?

Amy Dorrit:
Yes, we have. And I hope we will continue so, nothing change.

John Chivery:
Ah, but things do change, Amy. Is the way of things, and the way things should be.

Amy Dorrit:
[Turns to leave] I think I should go back now, John.

John Chivery:
Amy, please. Let me say what I have to say. I should go mad if I don't. [She stops and turns around] I th - I think you know I've always loved you, ever since we were play fellows.

Amy Dorrit:
And I've always been fond of you, John.

John Chivery:
I'd do anything for you. I - I'd fling myself off that parapet if it would give you a moment's joy.

Amy Dorrit:
Please don't do that, John.

John Chivery:
Then put me out of my misery and say you'll be my wife.

Amy Dorrit:
I'm sorry. I can't do that, John. I am fond of you, but I could never feel about you that way, the way you'd like me to.

John Chivery:
Well... You might come to?

Amy Dorrit:
No. Sorry, John. I know I never shall.

John Chivery:
Th-then I must ask, is there someone else?

Amy Dorrit:
No. That is, I don't expect I shall ever marry, and in truth I'm quite contented as I am looking after father. [Grabs his hand] But I hope you'll have a good wife one day. Because you deserve one. [John leans down and kisses her hand. Pause] Please don't cry.

John Chivery:
I can't help it, Amy. I set my heart on you. G - good-bye. [Walks away and tosses top hat in basket]

John Chivery:
Here lie the mortal remains of John Chivery, never anything worth mentionin', who died of a broken heart, requested with his last breath that the word "Amy" be inscribed over his ashes which was accordingly directed to be done by his afflicted father.

[Mrs Merdle's son Edmund Sparkler has proposed to Fanny Dorrit. Mrs Merdle explains to Fanny why she does not approve]

Mrs. Merdle:
Sadly the fact is we are all creatures of society in one way or another. And the society in which I move will *never* recognise the society in which you and your sister move. I'm afraid we should find ourselves compelled to look down upon you with contempt. We should feel obliged to recoil from you with abhorrence.

Arthur Clennam:
Ah, I uh... I had a talk with Mr. Chivery, today. Uh... He wanted to speak to me about his son.

Amy Dorrit:
Oh. [Turns away] I wish he had not.

Arthur Clennam:
He made me promise that I would say something to you. I know what these affairs of the heart are like, how we... how we hesitate. There's someone I care about very much, but I've held back from declaring my love.

Amy Dorrit:
[Turns back to him] Not Mrs. Finching!

Arthur Clennam:
No! No, no. Not Flora. No, someone much younger than Flora. You don't know her. But this is not about me. All - all I wanted to say is that if you love John Chivery, if you truly do love him, then seize your chance of happiness. You shouldn't sacrifice yourself for your father's sake. He'll be well looked after whether you marry or not.

Amy Dorrit:
Please. Please stop. [Looks away] I don't love John. Oh, I wish I could. It distresses me to see him unhappy. But I can't love him. Not in that way. Not to be his wife. And now everyone is unhappy or angry with me. I wish you hadn't spoken to Mr. Chivery. I wish you hadn't spoken to me.

Arthur Clennam:
You will never hear another word from me upon the subject. I promise you.

Amy Dorrit:
Thank you.

Arthur Clennam:
[Taps her on the shoulder] Are we still friends?

Amy Dorrit:
Yes. [Holds back sob] Still friends.

Mrs. Gowan:
Is she very plebeian?

Arthur Clennam:
[insulted] Really, ma'am. I am so plebeian myself, I don't feel qualified to judge.

Maggy:
Little Mother. Guess who I've got and he's waitin' downstairs.

Amy Dorrit:
Who, Maggy?

Maggy:
Him! With the cake! You know...

Amy Dorrit:
Mr. Clennam.

Maggy:
Yeah, that's him. That's him. I brought him to see ya.

Amy Dorrit:
[Looks out window and sees Mr. Clennam waiting in the courtyard] I can't see Mr. Clennam today, Maggy. Go down and tell him I have a headache.

Maggy:
That's not very polite.

Amy Dorrit:
He will understand.

Maggy:
I will if you tell me a story first. [Amy laughs] Should it be about a princess?

Amy Dorrit:
If you like. [They get settled for the story] Once upon a time there was a princess. And she had everything that you could wish for and a great deal more.

Maggy:
Yeah. Everythin' like lemonade and chicken and baked potato.

Amy Dorrit:
Shh. Listen. [Looks down at Mr. Clennam in the courtyard] Now, near the palace was a cottage in which live a poor, little, tiny woman. All alone.

Maggy:
She was an old woman, I expect.

Amy Dorrit:
No, Maggie. Quite a young one. And one day, the princess stopped at the cottage and said to the tiny woman, "Let me see what you keep there." And the tiny women open her very secret place and showed the princess a shadow.

Maggy:
A shadow.

Amy Dorrit:
[Still looking down at Mr. Clennam] It was the shadow of someone who'd gone by many years ago. "And you keep watch over this every day?" said the princess. "Yes," said the tiny woman. "Because no one so good or kind had ever passed that way ever since."

Maggy:
Then what did the princess say?

Amy Dorrit:
She realized that for all of her gold and silver and diamonds and rubies, she had nothing so precious to her as that shadow was to that tiny woman. That's the end of the story, Maggy.

Maggy:
Well, that's not much of a story, is it?

Amy Dorrit:
Sorry, Maggy. That's the best I can do today.

Mr. Dorrit:
You talk easily of hours, sir. How long do you think an hour is to a man who is choking for want of air?

Mr. Dorrit:
Mrs General and I have been in conversation about you, and we agree that you scarcely feel at home here in Venice. How is this?

Amy Dorrit:
I think I need a little time. Father.

Mrs. General:
[sighing] "Papa" is a preferable form of address. "Father" is rather vulgar. Besides, the word "papa" gives a pretty form to the lips. "Papa", "potatoes", "poultry", "prunes" and "prism" are all very good words for the lips - especially "prunes" and "prism".