All language subtitles for P&P.1980.E02

Such a pity
Charlotte Lucas
is so very plain.

Lady Lucas is much
to be pitied.

But also much
to blame.

Poor Charlotte
is always wanted
at home

to be about
the mince pies
or the dusting.

To be sure, I keep
servants that can do
their own work.

Our daughters
are brought up
very differently.

And Charlotte Lucas will be
a very long time marrying,

you take my word for it,
if at all.

Of course, she's not
so very plain-

I do not mean she's not
a very pleasant girl,

but nor is she
so very clever,
like Mary.

Some girls can afford
to do without looks
and some can't.

Of course, there's clever
and sharp.

Our Lizzy
tends to be sharp.

Lizzy, you have only
yourself to blame if you
find yourself badly treated.

In the company
of young gentlemen
be advised by me:

Smile
and hold your tongue.

It is how I won
your father.

I hope, my dear, that you have
ordered a good dinner today,

- we shall be one extra.
- You cannot mean
Charlotte Lucas.

I'm sure my day-to-day dinners
are good enough for her.

I do not believe
she often sees such at home.

The person of whom I speak
is a gentleman,
and a stranger.

Mr. Bingley?

Mr. Bingley
is coming here!

He cannot
keep away from Jane.
Jane, you sly thing.

I knew it.
Jane has made a conquest.

I do not mean Mr. Bingley.

What? Yet another?

What an excellent father
you are, Mr. Bennet.

And is he possessed
of a good fortune?

I'm sorry to say
that he is, yes.

Sorry?
How sorry?

Because it is your daughter's
fortune that he possesses,
Mrs. Bennet.

I speak of my cousin
Mr. Collins.

And when I am dead,
he may turn the lot of you

out of this house
as soon as he pleases.

But why is Mr. Collins
coming here?

He is an odious man.
I cannot bear to have
his name mentioned.

My nerves are suffering.

It is the hardest thing
in the world for me to bear
and you know it is,

that your estate
should be entailed away
from your children.

- He's a monster.
- Mother, it is not
Mr. Collins' fault

that he's to inherit
this house.

- It is the fault
of the entailment.
- A monster!

A monster? But he claims
to be a clergyman.

Perhaps you would like me
to read you his letter?

- It is very long.
- Odious, hypocritical
monster.

- A clergyman?
- Who gives tuppence
for a clergyman?

I am sure we will
find him charming.

But we have
none of us met him.

Five unmarried daughters,
myself a widow, homeless,

and what do you
do about it, sir?
Laugh?

No. I will read you
part of his letter.

It will quickly stop
all mirth.

"Fearing to seem disrespectful
of my father's memory

by being on good terms
with anyone

to whom it had pleased him
to be at variance

but having received ordination
into the clergy at easter... "

A common thief ordained?

And the good fortune
to have as my patron,
lady Catherine de Bourgh-"

he will worm his way
in here as there.

"Whose bounty and beneficence,"
and so on and so forth,

he's certainly is capable
of feeling deference, my dear.

"... and being ever ready
to perform those rights
and ceremonies

which I instituted
by the church of england... "
So on and so forth.

The upshot is
that his father is dead,

he is a clergyman,
and young Mr. Collins

proposes himself
the satisfaction

of waiting upon us
on Monday the 18th at 4:00

with the intention
of staying for a week.

A week?

Good afternoon.

I knew
he would be plain.

Any man not in a red coat
is plain.

But he is
intelligent.

In point of composition,
the letter he wrote father

was not deficient
and it was very long.

Pray, receive my compliments,
Mrs. Bennet,

on your fine family
of daughters.

I have heard much
of their beauty.

But in this instance,
fame has fallen short
of the truth.

I do not doubt of you
seeing them all in good time
disposed of in marriage.

I wish with all my heart
it may prove so, Mr. Collins.

Else they will
all be destitute.

You would refer perhaps
to my ultimate inheritance

of this pleasing house,
contents and grounds.

I am sensible of the hardships
of my cousins,

but while not wishing
to appear forward,

I can assure the young ladies
that I come prepared
to admire them.

Shall we perhaps
go into dinner?

The hall.
The hall should
be imposing.

This one is
spacious enough
but a little dark.

Had you thought
of mirrors?

Oh, truly
a gracious dining room.

Even lady Catherine de Bourgh
would not be ashamed
to dine here.

The chairs are
a good enough match.

And the table
though a trifle rustic
is solid and well made.

And may I compliment you,
Mrs. Bennet,

on the style
and graciousness of your home?

It has not of course
approached the grandeur
of her ladyship's,

but could scarcely
be expected to.

To which of your
many daughters,
Mrs. Bennet,

do we owe the excellence
of this dinner?

We keep a cook,
Mr. Collins.

I did not mean
to offend you.

I'm not at all offended.
I assure you.

You would be justified
in taking offense.

It was an unpardonable
suggestion.

He will now apologize
for a quarter of an hour.

...to suggest that daughters
of such distinction and beauty

would have anything
to do in the kitchen

would indeed
cause offense.

Let me once again
apologize.

I can only
congratulate myself

that such errors of judgment
come rarely to my lips,

and never so far in the presence
of lady Catherine de Bourgh

my most esteemed patroness.

Mr. Collins, you seem very
fortunate in your patroness
lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Such affability,
such condescension.

For me to have the honor
of preaching before a person
of such rank...

She has even visited
my parsonage and inspected it,

and suggested I put in shelves
in the upstairs closets.

Does she have sons?

She has a daughter,
a miss de Bourgh.

A most charming
young lady,

unfortunately of a very
sickly constitution

which has prevented her
from making that progress
in many accomplishments

which otherwise
she could not have failed of.

But she is clearly born
to be a duchess

as I have more than once
observed to lady Catherine.

These are
the kind of little remarks
which please her ladyship.

People reckon her proud.
But, no...

No, she has even allowed me
to leave the parish

and come here to visit
my humble relations.

She has advised me
to marry as soon as I can,

providing, of course,
that I do so with discretion.

Having a good house
and a sufficient income,

and seeking as I do
a reconciliation
with your family,

and finding your daughters
as handsome and as amiable

as represented
by common report,

and it
my Christian duty-

although
it may seem to others
excessively generous-

to make some atonement
for inheriting their
father's estate,

I mean to choose
one of your daughters
in marriage, Mrs. Bennet.

Mr. Collins.

Jane is of course
the eldest,

and we must not forget
what is due to seniority.

Jane? Well...

Of course Jane is
perfectly lovely.

But I must give mention,

I do feel it
incumbent upon me

to hint that Jane
is very likely

to be soon engaged
and married very well
indeed.

But of course,
Elizabeth is next to Jane,

both in order of birth
and of beauty.

Indeed.

He wishes to walk with me
into Meryton, father.

Let the fellow
walk with you wherever
he will, Elizabeth,

so long as it is out
of my earshot.

He insists on following me
into the library.

Although I am prepared
to meet folly and conceit

in any other room
in the house,

I will have
my library to myself.

You must all go,
all of you.

No. Kitty and Lydia
will run after officers

and exclaim
over smart bonnets
and make noise in general.

And supposing we meet
somebody we know?

I will have my library
to myself, Elizabeth,

and leisure
and tranquility.

Oh, all right.

Miss Elizabeth.

Yes, Mr. Collins?

- Are we all going?
- Yes, Mr. Collins.

If we all go to Meryton,
we must all go and visit
my aunt Philips.

- Aunt Philips?
- She is my mother's sister,

and like my mother,
has a good heart
and loves visitors.

A very close connection,
miss Elizabeth.

And Mr. Philips,
he is perhaps in some
line of trade?

He is a solicitor.

A modest calling
but respectable.

Come along, girls.

Aunt Philips says that
colonel foster does not go
to miss Wilson's so often now.

No, it is
captain Carter goes there.

I cannot think why.
She's so very dull.

Have you ever seen
such freckles?

I have often
observed how little
many young ladies

are interested in books
of a serious stamp,

though written solely
for their benefit.

For certainly there can be
nothing so advantageous
to them as instruction.

- Look, it's captain Denny.
- Hush, people. We're here.

- Quickly, let us just cross.
- We shall miss them. Hurry!

- No.
- No.

People will say
the Bennet girls

do nothing but talk
to officers.

- Good morning,
captain Denny.
- Good morning.

Ladies, well met.

Pray, let me introduce you
to my good friend Mr. Wickham.

Is he not
an admirable fellow?

Everything a young lady
might require.

A fine countenance,
good figure,

- pleasing address.
- You won't but let me
speak, Mr. Denny.

He has accepted
a commission
in the corps.

Only this corps
would do for him.

And my nose
is thoroughly
out of joint.

No. I will not present
you to him, I will not.

But it was the prospect
of good society, Mr. Denny,

constant and agreeable society
of the kind that I see here

that lured me
to your regiment.

You should not have
talked about it so much

or the beauty of
the young ladies hereabouts

if you wished me
to stay away.

You must find that
an interesting book.

Well, it is
most instructive.

Volume number seven
of Fordyce's sermons.

Ladies of accomplishment
and refinement.

- Oh no!
- It is Mr. Bingley.

And Mr. Darcy.
And we are talking
to officers.

Quickly come away.
We can go to aunt Philips.

Oh no!

- Miss Bennet.
- Mr. Bingley.

I was on my way to Longbourn
to inquire after your health.

You're quite well?
The air is not
too cold for you?

No. No.

- It brings color
to your cheeks.
- Miss Bennet,

- miss Eliza.
- Mr. Darcy.

You are taking the air?

I am taking the air,
Mr. Darcy, with my family.

So I see.

My sisters you know,
Mr. Darcy.

This is Mr. Collins,
captain Denny,

and Mr. Wickham.

I do apologize for this
intrusion, Mrs. Philips,

which after all
having no previous
acquaintance with you,

and yet, I suppose
if I flatter myself,

might be justified
by my relationship with
these charming young ladies.

Pray, do not apologize,
Mr. Collins.

You are not elusive,
that is the main thing.

Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham
have got away- never mind.

Lydia, kitty,
keep at the window
in case they come by again.

If they do,
call with all your might.

I have some other officers
to dine tomorrow

and you shall all come.

And somehow I will contrive
to have Mr. Wickham.

And you too, of course,
Mr. Collins, if you
should deign.

Such an excess of good breeding
and good looks in one person.

It quite takes
my breath away.

Your sister is all manners,
all politeness, Mrs. Bennet.

She has included me
in the most generous
invitation

though utterly unknown
to her before.

I have never met
with such attention
in the course of my life.

Excepting only in
lady Catherine de Bourgh
and miss de Bourgh

have I seen such elegance,
such civility.

And yet I fear
Mr. Bennet may be offended

if I do not attend him
every evening.

I should perhaps join him
in a game of backgammon

and decline
Mrs. Philips' invitation.

Courtesy perhaps demands it-
do you not think so,
miss Elizabeth?

You should not
sacrifice yourself
on my father's account,

I do not think
he would wish it.

As you wish,
miss Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, did you think
he was pale? I did.

Mr. Bingley?
No.

But did you not think
what happened was
extraordinary?

What? Mr. Wickham
being so very rude
to Mr. Darcy?

Yes, I suppose it was.

No, no.
It was Mr. Darcy

being proud and ill-mannered
to poor Mr. Wickham.

Oh. Was it?

What can it have meant?

This time of year
we must expect
the inclement weather

and not be
cast down by it.

- Quite.
- You are right,

to talk about
the weather is absurd.

You do it most
agreeably, Mr. Wickham.

No, no, no. We will
change the subject.

Cards? I know
little of games.

And yet I daresay it is
my duty to improve myself
in these fields,

especially in view
of my situation in life.

Do come along,
Mr. Collins.

Is not miss Elizabeth
to play whist too?

Miss Elizabeth
is entertaining
Mr. Wickham.

Our officers are
a very creditable,
gentlemen-like set,

but I'm sure
Mr. Wickham is quite
the best of them all.

I knew he would not
stay away- could not.

Mr. Collins, do join us
at the whist table.

Oh, of course, of course.
Good evening.

Please accept
my apologies.

Tell me, how long has
Mr. Darcy been staying
at Netherfield?

I was surprised
to see him here.

He has large estates
in derbyshire and a clear
10,000 a year.

And our society,
you would imply,

would seem a good deal
too dull for him.

He is a proud man.

So I've noticed.
He's been here
a month already,

and is reckoned, alas,
a most disagreeable person.

That is unusual.

The world is mostly
blinded by his fortune
and consequence,

and frightened by
his high and imposing
manner

into speaking
well of him.

You seem to know a great deal
about Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham.

I expect he only discourses
on the nature of philosophy.

He is interested
in books and reading.

I know.

Mr. Darcy and I are not
on friendly terms,

I freely admit it.

His father
was my godfather

and bequeathed me a living
on his derbyshire estate

so that I could earn my keep
as befitted my temperament...
As a clergyman.

But it suited Mr. Darcy
to give my living
to another.

His behavior to myself
has been scandalous.

But I could
forgive him that

were it not that he has
disgraced the memory
of his good father.

Gave your living to another?
Why did you not seek
legal redress?

There was just
such an informality in
the terms of the bequest

as to give me
no hope in law.

A man of honor
would not have doubted
the intention,

- however-
- but why?

I have a warm
and guarded temper.

I may perhaps have spoken
my opinion of him-

and to him-
too freely.

I can recall
nothing worse.

But the fact is, we are
very different sort of men-

and that he hates me.

I am very much struck
with the style and furniture
of this apartment.

I might almost
have supposed myself

to be in the small
breakfast parlor at
lady Catherine de Bourgh's.

At rosings, one of
the chimneypieces alone
costs ј800.

What?
Is it my call?
I do apologize.

Please accept
my apologies.

Oh, Charlotte.
Mr. Wickham is
above everyone.

In person,
countenance, air-

but Charlotte,
what he has told me
of Mr. Darcy-

I never liked
Mr. Darcy.

I supposed him to be despising
his fellow creatures in general,

but did not suspect him
capable of injustice,
inhumanity.

His disposition
must be dreadful.

What can he have done
to merit this?

Pray, do not consider my loss
of the smallest importance,

the money
is a mere trifle.

When persons sit down
at a card table

they must
take their chance
of these things.

Pray, no one must
make themselves uneasy
on my account.

Five shillings?

My father's cousin
Mr. Collins.

His father
made him humble,

but lately,
lady Catherine de Bourgh
has given him a living

which has made him
very conceited-

that and a weak head.

Lady Catherine?
But she is Mr. Darcy's aunt.

I gather she is remarkable,
very sensible and clever.

I think that
can only be a rumor

put about
by her nephew.

She is arrogant and conceited,
dictatorial and insolent.

Perhaps Mr. Darcy cannot
tell the difference.

Or does not wish to.

She is after all,
to be his mother-in-law.

It is believed Mr. Darcy
is to marry the daughter-
miss de Bourgh.

The two estates
would be united.

Why are you laughing?

I was thinking
of poor miss Bingley-

trying so hard,
but to no avail.

He is self-destined
for another,

but has failed
to mentioned it.

Two young persons
who will not be separated,

charming.
What an excellent evening
we are having.

Lizzy, would you
believe it?

Rumor has it
that Mr. Bingley

has quite lost his heart
to your sister Jane.

And more than that,
there is to be a ball
at Netherfield on Tuesday

- and all are invited.
- A ball? Netherfield?

Mr. Collins, would you
think it proper

to join in
such an evening's
entertainment?

Would you venture
to dance?

I am by no means
of the opinion that
a ball of this kind,

given by a young man
of character such as
Mr. Bingley

to respectable people,
can have any evil tendency.

At Netherfield?
I will not be invited.

Of that, at least,
we can be certain.

In fact, I am so far
from objecting
to dancing myself

that I shall hope to be
honored with the hands
of all my fair cousins

in the course
of the evening.

Do come along,
Mr. Collins.

¶ Near Woodstock town
in oxfordshire ¶

¶ as I walked forth
to take the air... ¶

I think it no sacrifice
to join occasionally in
evening engagements.

Society has claims
on us all.

- Until Tuesday, there is
Friday, Saturday,

Sunday and Monday.

If it stopped raining
we could at least
walk to Meryton.

But it will not.

If we go downstairs,
there will be Lydia and kitty
complaining of the rain

and so no walks,
no news, no aunt...

And no officers.

And Mr. Collins.

He will ask me
to dance with him
on Tuesday.

And I mean to dance
every dance with
Mr. Wickham.

But you told me
Mr. Wickham said he
would not be invited.

He must be invited.
All the officers
are invited.

I am sure he will be.

I cannot believe
Mr. Darcy to be as wicked
as Mr. Wickham says,

or Mr. Bingley would not
be his friend, would he?

Charlotte, Mr. Wickham
is not here.

I'd been so certain
to see him

I dressed
with such care,

and now
I am disappointed.

He's been purposefully omitted
for Mr. Darcy's pleasure.

There are young men here
ten times Mr. Wickham's
consequence.

You do not think well
of Mr. Wickham?

No, I do not.

You are not formed
of ill-humor and he has
put you in one.

Mr. Wickham went to town

especially to avoid
meeting Mr. Darcy.

Captain Denny said so.

Aren't you sorry?
Everyone else is.

It is pleasant to see you,
miss Elizabeth.

When the dance recommences,
miss Eliza, I hope you
will partner me.

My cousin Jane
is also free,

I trust she attributes
my preference to
the right causes.

At social events,
the honor due
to seniority

must sometimes give way
to the spirit
of jollity.

Thank you, Mr. Collins,
I should be honored.

Don't be such
a simpleton, Lizzy.

Don't let your fancy
for Mr. Wickham

make you appear unpleasant
to Mr. Darcy.

Any civility at all
to Mr. Darcy is injury
to Mr. Wickham.

Miss Charlotte,
may I have the pleasure
of this dance?

Why certainly,
captain Denny.

May I have the honor,
miss Bennet,

in this set,
or the next?

Are you enjoying
the dance, Mr. Darcy?

Very much.

It's your turn to say
something, Mr. Darcy.

I talked about the dance.
You should make some kind
of remark

about the size of the room
or the number of couples.

I will say whatever
you wish me to say.

Very well, that remark
will do for present.

Perhaps by and by
I may remark

that private balls
are pleasanter than
public ones...

But not yet.

You talk by rule then
when dancing?

One must arrange
the conversation

so as to have the trouble
of speaking as little
as possible.

Are you consulting
your own feelings,

or do you imagine that
you're gratifying mine?

Both.

I see a resemblance
in the turn of both
our minds.

We are each of a taciturn,
unsocial disposition.

Unwilling to speak-
unless it be to say something

that will
amaze the world.

Mr. Wickham was talking of you
the other day.

I see he's
not here tonight.

Mr. Wickham is blessed,
unlike myself,

with such happy manners
as may ensure his making
many friends.

He seems to have
lost your friendship

in a manner
most unfortunate.

He will suffer for it
for the rest of his life.

A good dancer as Mr. Darcy
must appear quite spectacular
in the provinces.

But I hear you were
quite delighted with
George Wickham, miss Eliza,

the son of old Wickham,
the late Mr. Darcy's
steward.

As a friend,
might I advise you

not to pay
too much attention
to what he says?

His coming
to the country at all
was remarkably insolent.

He's guilty of infamous
conduct towards poor Mr. Darcy.

I pity you for the discovery
of your favorite's guilt,

but considering his descent,
one could not expect
much better.

His guilt and descent
appear to be one and the same.

You have accused him
of nothing worse than being
the son of Mrs. Darcy's steward.

I beg your pardon.
It was meant kindly.

Lizzy, Mr. Bingley
has taken every dance.

I hope you were kind
to Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Bingley says that he's sure
Mr. Wickham's story is untrue.

Mr. Darcy, as we know,
shows a different face
to many people.

I have not a doubt
of Mr. Bingley's
sincerity.

But I think he is mistaken,
and Mr. Wickham much put upon.

We are so much looking forward
to the marriage, my Jane
and Mr. Bingley.

Such a charming young man,
and so rich.

And living so near-
and so good for the other girls.

He will wake up
their ideas of a husband.
I have no doubt of it.

You mean the match
is arranged?

Oh, bound to be.
Look at them.

How they bill and coo
like doves.

Mother, hush please!

I only hope your
dear Charlotte does as well.

And I'm positive
she will- positive.

And as for you Eliza,
I will speak as loud as I will

where I will, and what if
Mr. Darcy does overhear me?

I'm sure we owe him
no special civility.

You forget yourself,
mother.

We only have to allow
for the necessary
preparations

of settlement,
new carriage,
clothes and so on.

And undoubtedly
we shall soon see

Jane settled
at Netherfield.

And Elizabeth of course
with Mr. Collins.

Mr. Collins?!

May I hope, dear madam,
to solicit the honor
of a private audience

with your daughter Elizabeth
during the course
of the morning?

Oh, I'm sure Elizabeth
will have no objections.

Come with me, kitty,
I need you upstairs.

Dear mother, do not go.
I beg you not to go.

Mr. Collins can have
nothing to say to me

- that the others will not hear.
- Nonsense, Lizzy.

I desire you to stay
exactly where you are.

Lizzy, I insist upon
you're staying and hearing
Mr. Collins.

Come along!

My dear miss Elizabeth,

your modesty does you
no disservice.

Rather it adds to your
other perfections.

You would have been
less amiable in my eyes

had there not been this
little... unwillingness?

You can hardly doubt
the purport of my discourse,

however your natural delicacy
may lead you to dissemble.

My attentions have been
too marked to be mistaken.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet,

almost as soon
as I entered this house

I singled you out
as the companion
of my future life.

My reasons for marrying
are these:

Firstly,
that a clergyman

should set the example
of matrimony in his Parrish;

secondly, that I consider
it will add to my happiness;

and thirdly, that on two
occasions lady Catherine
has said that I must marry,

that I must choose
an active, useful
sort of person,

not brought up
too high,

but able to make
a small income go
a long way.

Of the advantages
I have to offer you,

fair cousin,

not least is
the kindness and notice

of lady Catherine
de Bourgh.

You are too hasty, sir.

I am very sensible
to the honor
of your proposals,

but it is impossible
for me to do otherwise
than decline them.

It's quite usual
for young ladies

to decline the addresses
of the man whom they secretly
mean to accept

a first, a second,
and even a third time.

I am by no means
discouraged.

Mr. Collins,
pay me the compliment
of believing what I say.

I wish you very happy,
and very rich,

and by refusing your hand
do all in my power

to prevent you
being otherwise.

You have satisfied
your delicacy of feeling
in regard of our estate,

and may take possession
of it eventually,

without any self-reproach.

The matter may be
considered settled.

Miss Eliza,

you are merely following
the custom of elegant females.

You will accept me presently-
indeed, you must accept me.

In spite of your
manifold attraction,

it is by no means certain
that another offer of marriage
will ever be made to you.

Your position is unhappily
most small.

I am persuaded
that when sanctioned

by the express authority
of both parents,

my proposal will not fail
to be- acceptable.

Mr. Collins.

Lizzy shall be
brought to reason,

depend upon it,
Mr. Collins.

She is a very foolish
headstrong girl

and does not know
her own interest, but I
shall make her know it-

pardon me for interrupting you,
madam, but if she is really
headstrong and foolish,

I know not altogether whether
she would be a very desirable
wife for a man in my situation.

Mr. Bennet,
you are wanted immediately.
We're all in an uproar.

You must come and make Lizzy
marry Mr. Collins,

for she vows
she will not have him.

And if we do not make haste,
he will change his mind
and not have her.

Of what are you speaking,
Mrs. Bennet?

Of Lizzy
and Mr. Collins.

Oh, you must
speak to her yourself.

Troublesome child.
Where is she?

Lizzy!
Step forward.

Yes, step forward,
Lizzy,

and you shall hear
my opinion

though it seems
a hopeless business.

Come here, child.

I must speak to you,
it seems, of an affair
of importance.

I understand
that you have received
an offer of marriage

from Mr. Collins.

- Is this true?
- Yes.

And this offer
you have refused?

I have, sir.

But your mother insists
on your accepting it.

Is it not so,
Mrs. Bennet?

Yes. Or I will
never see her again!

An unhappy alternative
is before you, Lizzy.

From this day,
you must be a stranger
to one of your parents.

Your mother will never
see you again

if you do not
marry Mr. Collins,

and I... will never
see you again if you do.

And now may I have
my library to myself?

I am glad you are come,
for there is such fun here.

What do you think
has happened?

Mr. Collins has made
an offer to Lizzy

and she will not
have him.

Lydia!

- I tell you
what, miss Lizzy,

I have done with you
from this very day.

I told you I'd never
speak to you again

and I shall be
as good as my word.

If you take it
into your head

to go on refusing
every offer of marriage
in this way,

you'll never get
a husband at all.

And who will maintain you
when your father is dead?
I'm sure I cannot.

Oh, Mr. Collins.

My dear madam,

far be it from me
to resent the behavior
of your daughter.

Resignation to marital evils
is the duty of us all.

You will not, I hope,
consider me

as showing any disrespect
to your family,

my dear madam,
by thus withdrawing
my pretensions

to your daughter
Elizabeth's favor.

If my manner has been
in any way reprehensible,

I here beg leave
to apologize.

Poor Jane.
Poor dear Jane.

"So, we are all
off to London

and I do not pretend
to regret anything
I shall leave behind

except your society,
my dearest Jane.

Mr. Bingley himself
left yesterday,

and though he talked
earlier of his
quick return,

I suspect
both our absence

and the presence
of miss Darcy
in London

will lead him
to stay there.

You know of miss
Georgiana Darcy,
of course,

Mr. Darcy's sister.

I really do not think
Georgiana Darcy

has her equal
of beauty, elegance
and accomplishments.

My brother Charles is
of course most capable,

or too capable, of engaging
any woman's heart.

All these circumstances,
I do suspect,

favor an attachment between
my brother and miss Darcy,

which will secure
the happiness of many."

Oh dear.
Have I put it rightly?

I fear there can be
no other way of putting it.

He is going.

He will return
no more this winter.

And worse, Elizabeth,

Caroline Bingley neither expects
nor wishes me to be her sister.

She suspects the nature
of my feelings

and puts me on my guard.

Miss Bingley sees
that her brother is
in love with you,

but wants him
to marry miss Darcy,

and so writes you
such a letter.

Of course he will
return, Jane.

Of course.

Hertfordshire, at least
we need not regret

the leaving of so damned
and tedious a place.

Are you not thankful,
brother, to have so much
business in London

as to prevent
your ever returning?

Mr. Darcy, what will
you remember best?

Miss Eliza Bennet's
beautiful eyes?

Or miss Eliza Bennet's
mother's voice?

Lizzy, Jane, where are you?

What shall we
tell mother?

As little
as possible.

Even if he does return,

how could I be happy
in accepting a man

whose sisters and friends
are all wishing him
to marry elsewhere?

If upon mature
deliberation

you find that
the misery of disobliging
his two sisters

is more than equivalent
to the happiness
of being his wife,

I advise you,
by all means,
to refuse him.

Oh, Lizzy,
how can you talk so?

Jane! Lizzy!

Oh, come along.

- Why Mr. Collins.
- Miss Lucas.

I must speak with you
most urgently.

But of course,
Mr. Collins.

...you would make me
the happiest of men,
miss Lucas.

To be able to return
to lady Catherine

with the news
of my betrothal.

Very well,
Mr. Collins.

I will marry you.

My dear miss Lucas,

my dear Charlotte
if I may,

you are too amiable.

Let me reassure you
on two counts-

no ungenerous reproach
as to your lack of fortune

shall pass my lips
when we are married;

and secondly that had
I not deemed it seemly

to offer myself first
to the Bennet family

that the eventual loss
of their father

might not entail the loss
of their home as well,

I should have
singled you out directly

as the companion
of my future life.

Such amiability,
such economy,
such sense.

I only ask one thing,
Mr. Collins,

that we keep
our betrothal a secret

until I have had
the opportunity of
speaking to Elizabeth.

But I long to publish
my prosperous love.

- How can I keep silent?
- You must try, Mr. Collins.

You must try.

¶ Early one morning
just as the sun was rising ¶

¶ I heard a young maid sing
in the valley below ¶

¶ oh, don't deceive me ¶

¶ oh, never leave me ¶

¶ how could you use
a poor maiden's soul? ¶

is something the matter,
Mr. Collins?

Does something
distress you?

Indeed, sir,
nothing is the matter.

I am the happiest
of men.

It is Mary's singing
that entrances him,
Mr. Bennet.

She's such
a clever girl.

So talented.
Had you not noticed,
Mr. Collins,

that Jane has beauty?
Elizabeth has-

well... but Mary
has intelligence.

It is a great quality
in a wife, is it not,
Mr. Bennet?

How would I know
a thing like that,
Mrs. Bennet?

Engaged to Mr. Collins?

My dear Charlotte,
impossible.

Do you think it impossible
for Mr. Collins to procure

any woman's good opinion
because he did not
succeed with you?

I am sorry.

I wish you
all imaginable happiness,
Charlotte.

I see what
you're feeling.

You must be surprised,
very much surprised.

I'm not romantic,
you know, not like you.

I never was.

I ask only
a comfortable home.

And considering Mr. Collins'
character, connections
and situation in life,

I'm convinced my chance
of happiness with him

is as fair as most people
can boast on entering
the marriage state.

Charlotte.

I don't believe
a word of it-
not a word.

Charlotte Lucas engaged
to Mr. Collins?

It is not possible.

- But did not Mr. Collins
want to marry Lizzy?
- Shhh!

A clergyman.
I mean to be
an officer's wife

and brush his red coat
every morning.

I hope they are happy.

Well, they may be happy.

A heart finds happiness
in the strangest places.

Mr. Collins has been
taken in by a...

A hussy.

Oh, the whole world
knows Charlotte Lucas
to be a hussy.

I have been
barbarously used
by everyone.

I'm so unhappy.

You-

to the library.
Don't worry for me,

I'm perfectly happy.

I'm gratified to discover
that Charlotte Lucas,

whom I'd always thought of
as tolerably sensible,

is as foolish as my wife,
and more foolish
than Elizabeth.

Oh, here she comes.
Lady Lucas- I knew it.

She comes to congratulate
herself on having a daughter
well married,

and to commiserate with me
for having five unmarried!

How can I endure it?

Jane, you are my only
consolation,

you must be married
to Mr. Bingley at once.

I do not understand why
you delayed the matter.

I do not
understand anything!

Hope is over,

entirely over.

He will not return
and I must accept it.

It is from miss Bingley.

She writes she's
increasingly convinced

that an announcement
will soon be made

concerning her brother

and miss Georgiana Darcy.

Poor Mr. Bingley.

And poor mother.

What shall we
tell mother?

It is from Mr. Collins.

On the eleventh page
he informs me

of his intention
of returning in a fortnight

the better to enjoy
miss Lucas' company.

And they will visit here.
And I hate having visitors
in the house

when my health
is indifferent.

And lovers, of all people,
are the most disagreeable.

And Elizabeth,
where is Mr. Bingley
I should like to know?

Why does Mr. Bingley
delay his return?

Well, mother,
it is possible,
I suppose,

that Mr. Bingley
will not return
at all.

Not return at all?

I don't understand
such a thing.
He loves Jane.

Heaven knows what
she can have done
to drive him away.

Oh, and we'll be asked
to dinner at the Lucas'

and lady Lucas
will gloat,

because Mr. Collins
is to be Charlotte's
and not yours.

And it's all
your fault, Lizzy.

Oh!

The weeks pass,
Jane waits and pines,

and grows thin
and hopes against hope.

As for Mr. Bingley,
he sacrifices
his own happiness

to the caprice
of his inclinations.

Makes me angry.

Eliza, how your eyes
sparkle in defense
of a sister you love.

What privilege
to be loved
by such as you.

Jane is too good.
She is an angel.

I do not know what
to say to her.

She is hurt
if I speak ill
of anyone.

But I must.

There are few people
who I really love,

and still fewer
of whom I think well.

The more I see
of the world,

the more dissatisfied
I am with it.

Mr. Bingley
is a foolish
young fellow.

If he does not return
it is no great loss
to your sister.

I do not attribute
his conduct to design.

He is thoughtless
and wanting in resolution.

His sisters do not
want resolution.

They no doubt wish him
to marry a girl who has

all the importance of money
and great connections.

That is the effect
the Darcy household
has on everyone.

It taints whomsoever
it touches.

What kind of a girl
is miss Darcy?

When she was a child
at Pemberley

I had devoted
hours and hours
to her amusement.

But now,
I wish I could
call her amiable.

But she is too much
like her brother-

and very, very proud.

Poor Jane.

Poor Mr. Bingley.

My aunt Gardiner
is coming to cheer us up.

She is my mother's
sister-in-law and very elegant
and a great favorite.

Perhaps she will take Jane
to stay with her in London.

I hope she does not
take you.

Oh, thank you.

Long sleeves,
Mrs. Gardiner?

We were wearing those
when I was a girl.

Very gloomy
they were.

One might as well
stay here in the country.

You'd think
they'd do better
than that in London.

Oh, sister,
since we last saw you-

so I have heard.

I do not blame Jane
because she would have got
Mr. Bingley if she could,

but within the week,
Charlotte Lucas is
to be married

to Mr. Collins who
should have been Lizzy's.

It makes me very nervous
and poorly, sister,

to be so thwarted
in my own family.

I must go to my room.

Long sleeves.

Such a disappointment.

You look very pretty,
Elizabeth.

Are you in love?

Well, you must
tell me everything
that has happened.

These things happen
so often.

A young man,
such as you described
Mr. Bingley to me,

falls in love
with a pretty girl
for a few weeks.

Then when accident
separates them,

he so easily
forgets her.

But it was no accident,
it was design.

It's not very often

that a young man
of an independent fortune

is persuaded to think
no more of a girl

with whom he was
violently in love
but a few days before.

Violently in love?

That is a phrase as often
applied to feelings

which arise from
half an hour's acquaintance

as from a real
strong attachment.

Pray, how violent
was Mr. Bingley's love?

I never saw a more
promising inclination.

He had grown
quite inattentive
to other people.

And is not general incivility
the very essence of love?

Oh, Lizzy.

It had better
have happened
to you,

you would have
laughed yourself
out of it.

Now poor Jane.

She shall come
to stay with us
in London,

in gracechurch street,
the better to get over it.

But not in any hope
of meeting the young man.

Mr. Bingley is at present
in the custody of Mr. Darcy,

who may perhaps have heard
of gracechurch street

but would hardly think
a month's ablutions

enough to cleanse himself
from its impurities.

And Mr. Bingley never stirs
without Mr. Darcy.

They are not
likely to meet.

And you, Lizzy?

What about you?

Oh, you are too sensible
to fall in love

simply because you have been
warned against it.

So, I shall warn you,

be on your guard
against Mr. Wickham.

Do not involve yourself
or endeavor to involve him

in an affection
which want of fortune
would make imprudent.

Want of fortune?
That was Mr. Darcy's doing.

Now that is neither
here nor there.

The fact is,
you must not let your fancy
run away with you.

Aunt, this is
serious talk indeed.

But you have sense...

We all expect you
to use it.

I am not at present in love
with Mr. Wickham.

But he is,
beyond all comparison,

the most agreeable man
I ever saw.

And although I do not want
to make anyone unhappy,

least of all you,
aunt Gardiner,

young people
seldom refrain from
falling in love

because of want
of fortune.

And how can I promise
to be wiser than the rest
of mankind?