All language subtitles for Pride and prejudice (1980) - 5

Ah, Hill, I could not
concentrate for the quiet.

Where is my family?

Mrs. Bennet's in her dressing room, sir,

she doesn't often come out.

Good - and I suppose Kitty to be hiding?

- Send her to me, Hill.
- Yes, sir.

And Mary is thinking too
philosophically to sing,

and Jane will be attending
her mother, and Lizzy...

- Is Lizzy reading?
- Yes, sir.

- I will take tea with Lizzy, Hill.
- Very good, sir.

Father, I am so sorry
for what you have endured.

Say nothing of that.
Who should suffer but myself?

It has been my own doing
and I ought to feel it.

You must not be too severe upon yourself.

You may well warn me
against such an evil.

People are too prone to fall into it.

No, Lizzy, let me for once in my life

feel how much I have been to blame.

I'm not afraid of being overpowered
by the impression.

It will pass away soon enough.

Do you suppose Lydia to be
with Wickham in London?

Oh, yes. Where else can they
be so well concealed?

Lizzy?

I bear you no ill will for being
justified in your advice to me last may,

which considering the event,
shows some greatness of mind.

I suppose you have come
for your mother's tea,

- which nerves prevent her from taking
with her family. - Yes, papa.

Here's a parade which does one good.

It gives a certain elegance to misfortune.

Another day, I will do the same.

I will sit in my library with
my nightcap and powdering gown,

and will give as much trouble as I can.

You've only come because
you've been sent for.

If ever I should ever
go to Brighton, papa,

I would behave better than Lydia.

You go to Brighton?

I would not trust you so near
to it as Eastbourne for £50.

No, Kitty, I've at last
learned to be cautious,

and you will feel the effects of it.

No officer is ever to enter
our house again,

or even to pass through the village.

Balls will be forbidden absolutely,

unless you stand up
with one of your sisters.

And you will never be allowed
out of doors until you can prove

that you've spent 10 minutes
of every day in a rational manner.

- Kitty.
- Well, well.

Do not make yourself unhappy,

be a good girl for the next 10 years

and at the end of them I may
take you to a military review.

I am mortified,

I am humbled, I am grieved,

and hope against hope that Lydia
and Wickham will be married.

And if they are, must marvel
at how little happiness

could possibly belong to a couple
brought together

because their passions
were stronger than their virtue.

There is no letter, either,
from Mr. Darcy.

I could not expect it.

There is now a gulf
unsupportable between us.

Mr. Darcy would scorn
more than ever

to be connected
to a family such as ours.

And he is exactly the man to suit me,

in disposition and talents.

I could have softened him,
improved his manners.

I beg your pardon,
miss Elizabeth, for interrupting.

Is it my mother?

No, miss.
Your mother sits quietly.

I was in hopes you might have got
some good news from town,

so I took the liberty of coming to ask.

What do you mean, Hill?
We have heard nothing from town.

Dear miss, did you not know?

There was an express
come for the master,

from Mr. Gardiner, this half hour.

Oh, Jane!
Jane!

But what of the letter?
Was it good or bad?

Was it from my Uncle Gardiner?

What is there of good
in all this to be expected?

You may read the letter
if you can find it.

I hardly know myself what it is about.

Your Uncle writes at length.

"Tidings of Lydia,
which must bring satisfaction,

enough to know that Lydia and Wickham
are discovered, I have seen them both."

It is as I always hoped,
they are married.

"I have seen them both,
they are not married.

Nor can I find out that there
was any intention of being so.

But if you are willing
to perform the engagements

which I have ventured
on your behalf,

I hope it will not
be long before they are."

Oh, father, Wickham is to marry Lydia.
Is it possible?

I knew he could not
be as undeserving as we feared.

Read on.

"If you will settle
on your daughter now £1,000,

and allow her during her life
£100 per annum-"

I could hardly believe it!

What man in his senses
would marry Lydia

on so slight a temptation
as £100 a year?

What else?

Uncle Gardiner has taken
Lydia into his household

they are to be married
from Gracechurch street.

He requires you to
"stay quietly at home,"

and "depend upon
his diligence and care".

Oh, father.
Have you answered the letter?

I have only just read it.

But it must be done.
Every moment is important.

If you dislike the trouble,
father, I will do it.

It is not the trouble.
It is the consequence I fear.

Oh, well, I suppose I must
have Wickham as a son-in-law.

But how much money has your Uncle
had to lay down to bring it about?

And how will I ever repay it?

- More money, sir?
- Depend upon it.

Wickham's debts have been
discharged by your Uncle

so that he may come
out of hiding and marry.

He's a fool if he takes
a farthing less than £10,000.

£10,000?

How is half such a sum
ever to be recovered?

If Uncle Gardiner's goodness

does not make Lydia miserable now,

then she can never deserve to be happy.

Oh, they will be happy, Lizzy.

Their mutual affection will steady them.

They will settle so quietly

and live in so rational a manner

as may in time make their
past imprudence forgotten.

Their conduct has been such
that neither you nor I

nor anyone can ever forget.

It is useless to talk of it.

She will be married at 16.

Oh, my dear, dear Lydia.

I knew it.
I always knew it.

And my good kind brother,
I knew he would manage everything.

Oh, how I long to see her
and her dear, dear Wickham.

But her clothes, her wedding clothes.

Lizzy, my dear.

Run and ask your father
how much he will give her.

Oh, you have long faces, the pair of you.

Well, 'tis envy, I suppose.

You should have taken Mr. Collins
while you could, Lizzy,

and Jane should not
have chased away Mr. Bingley.

You grand girls do not have
the sense of one Lydia,

for all your father says.

Mother, we are under great
obligation to Uncle Gardiner.

If my brother had not chosen
to marry and have children,

I should have had all his money.

He's never given us a thing before,

apart from a few presents.

"Mrs. Wickham,"
how well it sounds. And only 16.

Haye park might do,
if the Gouldings would quit it.

No, it would not do, it is
not nearly large enough.

Lydia would never endure to be cramped.

She has such high spirits.

And there is the great house at stoke

if the drawing room were larger,
but Ashworth is too far off.

As for Purvis lodge,
I can just see Wickham

descending the staircase in his Scarlet.

Oh, but the attics are dreadful.

Mrs. Bennet, before you take
any or all of these houses

for your son and daughter,
let us come to a right understanding.

Into one house they shall
never have admittance.

I will not encourage
the impudence of either

by ever receiving them
here at Longbourn.

And further... I will not advance
a Guinea for clothes.

We are disgraced!

I will not move.
I am fixed upon it.

I have the satisfaction
of prevailing upon

one of the most worthless men
in Britain to be Lydia's husband.

And that is enough for me.

In any case, he may not enter our house.

He is an officer, is he not, Kitty?

Shh!

I am now most heartily sorry

that in the distress of the moment

I made Mr. Darcy acquainted
with our fears for Lydia.

The matter would have
been better concealed.

For though there are
few people on whose secrecy

I could more confidently depend,

there is no one whose knowledge
of his sister's frailty

could mortify me more.

Lizzy? Lizzy.

You must come at once
and reason with your father.

A letter has come from Lydia.

Her angel Wickham has resolved
on quitting the militia

and joining the regulars in the north,
still your father will not move.

But there is to be a marriage?

If you can call it a marriage
with no family and no clothes.

I'm sure I do not.

So, Mrs. Bennet, your daughter
is to be banished to the north?

Good.

But it will be quite shocking for her.

She's so fond of Mrs. Forster
and now to be sent away?

And there are several
of the young men too,

who she likes very much
and will surely miss.

The officers will not be nearly
so pleasant in the north.

She writes to me, Mr. Bennet,

that her heart would break

were she not so happy to be shortly
married to her handsome Wickham,

and all because you would not admit her.

Well, it is insupportable!

Inconceivable!

For the sake of Lydia's feelings
and consequence, sir,

her marriage should be
noticed by her parents.

Well, Lydia is our sister,
sir, and your daughter.

And our mother has much pleasure
and pride in her company.

Very well.

They are aired, Hill?
You are quite sure they are aired?

My Lydia should not catch a chill,

or her darling Wickham.

So young a bride - 16.

What are you dreaming of, Kitty?

I'm sure if Lydia
can be married, so can I.

I am older than she is.

Mr. Bingley is coming
to Netherfield, mama,

everyone says so.

And he's not an officer, so
father may let him in to the house.

And then we will see what we will see.

Bingley?
He is nothing to us.

I'm sure I never want
to see him again.

However, he is very welcome to come
to Netherfield if he likes it.

Oh, the splendid time
you'll have with Lydia,

back to laugh and be merry.

We'll visit all about and have parties -

as frequently as Mr. Bennet will allow.

And the gentlemen will go shooting,

Mr. Wickham does everything
best in the world.

I'm sure he will kill more birds

on the 1st of September
than anyone in the county.

- If you please, madam.
- What is it, Hill?

The undersheet is wrongly laid, madam.

- It will not tuck.
- Well, see to it yourself.

I'm all a-flutter with happiness.

Lydia is coming.

It's been my experience
that an event looked forward to

with much impatient desire

does not always bring
its promised satisfaction.

Silly girl.

Hmm.

Here she comes!
Here is the carriage.

My darling Lydia is home again.

I cannot endure it.

How will Lydia endure it?

To meet your parents again
thus after such a disgrace?

He must apologize.
He must show his contrition.

I will blush.

Oh, he will blush.
And she will blush.

- Surely we need not -
- oh, Jane,

if only we expected you and Mr. Bingley.

Oh, hush. That is all over.
It must be.

Here they are.
Here they are.

What a time it's been since I was here.

Everything looks so small, Wickham,

does it not?

Everything is as pleasant as ever, Lydia,

and my new family even pleasanter.

Madam, Elizabeth, Jane,

Kitty, Mary...

- Sir.
- Wickham.

Well, Lydia, what happened?
What happened?

And how was the marriage?

And who was there, and what did they say?

How did you manage with clothes?

My poor, poor Lydia.

Oh, lucky, clever Lydia.

Only three months,
yet it seems like a fortnight.

So much has happened,
I hardly know where to begin.

Good gracious.

When I went away I had no more idea

of being married until I came back again,

though I thought it would
be very good fun if I was.

Oh, mama, do people hereabouts
know I am married?

Oh, yes, of course.

I was afraid they might not.

And we overtook William Goulding
in his curricle.

So I was determined
that he should know it.

So I let down the side glass next to me,

took off my glove,

let my hand rest upon the window frame
so he might see the ring.

Then I bowed and smiled like anything.

Oh, Lydia, you are funny.

What a shame you weren't all there.

I wanted to be there.

I will tell you all about it.

I must take your place, Jane,

and you must go lower
because I am a married woman.

I long to see everyone -

the Phillips, and the Lucases,

and hear myself called "Mrs. Wickham".

Hill, do you see my ring?

I am married.

I'm sure my sisters
must all envy me.

Jane and Lizzy will not
be so superior now.

They must all go to Brighton, mama.

That is the place to get husbands.

Mama, you and papa, and everyone

must come up to the regiment to the north.

There will be balls, and I dare say

I shall get husbands for all my
sisters before the winter is over.

Thank you for my share
of the favour,

but I'm not sure I like your way
of getting husbands.

My dear Wickham.

Dear Wickham.
Is he not handsome?

I'm excessively fond of him.

He does everything best in the world.

I do not particularly like the blue.

Blue is not the least
the fashion in London for ladies.

You must take my advice
on these matters now.

The yellow will do tolerably well.

Otherwise, everything
is much the same. How horrible.

Let me tell you about my wedding, Lizzy.

I've told everyone else.

I think there cannot be too
little said on the subject.

My Uncle and aunt Gardiner

were horrid and unpleasant
all the time I was with them.

Not a party, or theatre, or anything.

And Uncle always talking
and talking in some other room -

business of some kind.

We were to be at St. Clements at 11:00.

I was so afraid something
would happen to put it off,

and then I should have
gone quite distracted.

And there was my aunt,
all the time I was dressing,

preaching and talking away,
as if she were reading a sermon.

I did not hear above one word in 10,

for wondering whether Wickham
would be married in his blue coat.

Then some horrid lawyer came and took
Mr. Gardiner away and talked some more.

I was so frightened
that he would not come back,

and I would never be given away.

But now I come to think of it,
I need not have worried.

- Mr. Darcy would have done just as well.
- Mr. Darcy?

Gracious me!
I forgot.

I promised so faithfully -

it is a secret.
Don't you want to know?

Oh, if it is a secret,
I shall seek no further.

Thank you. For if you did,
I should certainly tell you all,

and then Wickham would be angry.

"Aunt Gardiner, pray write
instantly and tell me.

Mr. Darcy at Lydia's wedding?

My dear aunt,

if you do not tell me
in an honourable manner

I shall certainly be reduced

to tricks and stratagems to find it out."

I hope I do not interrupt you,
my dear sister.

You certainly do, but it does not follow

that the interruption
must be an unwelcome one.

I should be very sorry indeed if it were.

We were always good friends.

- And now we are better.
- True.

An interesting letter?

It is from aunt Gardiner.
Are the others coming out?

I do not know.
Mrs. Bennet and Lydia -

they're going in the carriage
to Meryton.

And so, my dear sister,

I hear from our Uncle and aunt

that you have actually seen Pemberley.

I almost envy you the pleasure,

yet I believe it would be too much for me.

And you met the old
housekeeper, I suppose?

Poor Reynolds, she was
always very fond of me,

but of course, she did not
mention my name to you?

Oh, yes, she did.

And what did she say?

She said you had gone into the army.

She was afraid you had
not turned out well.

But at such a distance
as that, you know,

things are strangely misrepresented.

Shall we go into the house?

I have some letters to write.

I was surprised to see Darcy
in town last month.

I wonder what he can have been doing.

Perhaps preparing for his
marriage to miss de Bourgh.

It must have been something particular

to take him there at this time of year.

Did you meet miss Darcy at Pemberley?

I did.

I have heard she is uncommonly
improved this last year or two.

Oh, she is.

I hope she will turn out well.

I dare say she will...

When she's got over
the most trying age.

Did you go by the village of Kympton?

A most delightful place,

an excellent parsonage house.

It is the living I should have had.

One ought not to repine,
but to be sure

it would have been such a thing for me.

Quiet, a retirement of such a life

would have answered all
my ideas of happiness.

Did you ever hear Darcy
mention the circumstances?

I did hear it was left to you,
conditionally only.

And I did hear there was
a time when sermon making

was not so palatable to you
as it seems to be at present

and you declared your resolution
of never taking orders.

You may remember what I
told you on that part

when first we talked of it.

Mr. Wickham, we are brother
and sister you know,

do not let us quarrel about the past.

I hope in future we shall
always be of one mind.

"Mr. Darcy discovered
Wickham's whereabouts,

and came to inform your Uncle Gardiner

and to try and remedy an evil for
which he felt himself responsible.

Lydia was with Wickham
in a lodging house,

she would not leave him.

And it was not Wickham's plan
to marry Lydia,

she not being rich enough
to solve his problems,

it was Mr. Darcy who saw
to it that they were married,

Mr. Darcy who provided the money.

I like him very much.

And, Elizabeth, I am sure there
is another reason for his goodness

other than his remorse."

I have been so ungracious,

so ungenerous to Mr. Darcy.

And now we owe the restoration
of Lydia - of everything - to him.

My heart whispers
that he has done it for me,

but the whisper is quickly hushed.

Brother-in-law to Wickham?

It is useless.

When shall we meet again?

Lord, I don't know, mama.

Not these two or three years perhaps.

Well, write to me very often, my dear.

I'll write as often as I can,
mama, but you know,

married women never have much
time for writing.

My sisters may write to me.

They will have nothing else to do.

As fine and kind a family
as any man could hope for.

I had none of my own, but now
my loss is amply recompensed.

Madam, sir, sisters,

I bid you farewell but keep
you always in my heart.

Goodbye, Lydia.
Goodbye, goodbye.

Oh...

He's as fine a fellow as ever I saw:

He simpers and smirks,
makes love to us all,

and I'm prodigiously proud of him.

I defy even sir William Lucas himself

- to produce a more valuable son-in-law.
- He is a fine fellow.

I knew you would come
to admire him in time.

All that remains
are your other daughters.

This time I hope you
will be advised by me.

As soon as ever Mr. Bingley
comes to Netherfield,

which I hear from
Mr. Nichols is Wednesday,

you will wait upon him, of course.

- No.
- It is insupportable.

You forced me into
visiting him last year,

and promised me that he would
marry one of my daughters.

It ended in nothing. And I will not
be sent on a fool's errand again.

Very well.
I shall invite Mr. Bingley.

I'm sure Kitty will be
pleased enough to see him!

Lydia gone.

I often think there's nothing so
bad as parting with one's friends,

one seems so forlorn without them.

That is the consequence you see, mother,

of having a daughter married.

It must make you better satisfied

that the other four are still single.

It does no such thing.

Mr. Bingham must come at once.

Hill must go to the butcher,
there are three couple of ducks

just fit to be killed.

Come now, Mary. Come along, Kitty.
Will you stop coughing?

I saw you look at me, Lizzy,

and I know I appear distressed,

but don't imagine it
from any silly cause.

I was only confused because
I knew I should be looked at.

I do assure you
that Mr. Bingley's coming

does not affect me with
either pleasure or pain.

I wonder if he comes this time

with Mr. Darcy's permission

or without.

Jane, you must not go walking in the sun.

Lizzy is brown enough,
I have no hope for her,

but I will not have
your complexion spoiled.

Had your father called upon Mr. Bingley
before the hot weather began,

we would not have freckles
now upon your nose.

Oh, I am mortified.

Well, all our neighbours
have seen Mr. Bingley,

we have not yet had a glimpse of him.

Mr. Bingley is coming!
I can see clearer from my window.

- And there is someone with him.
- Who?

An acquaintance, I suppose.

I did not wait to see, Bingley is enough.

But it looked just like that man
who used to be with him.

Oh, Mr. what's-his-name?
That tall proud man.

But why is he coming here?

Hill came running with the news, I'm sure.

If it startled her, it startled me.

Any friend of Mr. Bingley is welcome here,

but I hate the very sight of Mr. Darcy.

Make haste.
What are we thinking on?

Make haste, make haste.

Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy.

- Mr. Bingley.
- Mrs. Bennet.

Welcome, welcome indeed.

It is a long time since you went away.

I began to be afraid that you
would never come back.

Oh, and you've brought Mr. Darcy with you?

Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy.

Do sit down.

Well, Mr. Bingley, there have
been some changes made here.

One of my daughters is married.

Oh, you must have seen it in "The Times".

It was not put as it ought to be,

not a syllable said of her father
or the place she lived or anything.

It was my brother Gardiner's
drawing up, too.

I wonder how he came to make
such an awkward business of it.

Did you see it, Mr. Bingley?

Indeed I did, and would have
written you my congratulations,

but knew I would be here soon
myself to offer them

and have the very great pleasure
of seeing the Bennet family.

Well, it is a delightful thing,
to be sure,

to have a daughter well married.

But at the same time,
Mr. Bingley, it is very hard

to have her taken so far from me.

They're gone to Newcastle,

a place quite north woods, it seems.

Mr. Wickham is gone into the regulars.

Thank heaven he has some friends,

though not perhaps as
many as he deserves.

Do you mean to make any stay
in the country, Mr. Bingley?

A few weeks, miss Eliza,
until the shooting is finished.

Oh, well, when you have killed
all your own birds,

I beg of you to come here and
shoot as many as you please.

I'm sure Mr. Bennet will be
vastly happy to oblige you.

He'll save all the best coveys for you.

Shall I sing?

No thank you, dear, not today.

You are a visiting debt, Mr. Bingley.

You promised to take family dinner
with us and you never did.

You see, I have not forgotten.

And I was very much disappointed
you did not keep your engagement.

I had pressing business, I was prevented.

Well, you must come on Tuesday.

And bring Mr. Darcy with you,

if he's still about.

Thank you, ma'am, I'm sure
we shall both enjoy that.

Goodbye, Mr. Bingley.
Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.

If Mr. Darcy came only to be
silent, grave, and indifferent,

I wonder why he came at all.

You were very quiet, Jane.

I think I talked as much
as ever, didn't I?

No.

Now this first meeting is over

I feel perfectly easy.

I know my own strength and shall never
be embarrassed again by his coming.

I'm glad he's coming on Tuesday.

For it will then again be publicly seen

that on both sides,

we meet only as common and
indifferent acquaintances.

Yes, very indifferent.

Oh, Jane, take care.

You cannot think me so weak
as to be in danger now.

I think you are in a very great danger

of making him as much in love
with you as ever.

The first wish of my heart

is never to be in the company
of either Bingley or Darcy again.

I listen to my mother,

and I see everything happening
the same way this year as last,

hastening to the same
vexatious conclusion.

Their society can afford no pleasure

as will atone for such wretchedness.

Lizzy, you do not mean it.

No, I do not mean it.

The summer is very late.

I declare it might almost be the spring.

The spring was very late as well

and could have been taken for winter
until the very last moment.

Not a single melon could we grow.

The beds were hot enough,
but the air was exceptionally cold.

The ducks did not fatten well,
of that we can be sure.

What is it that the gentleman
can talk about when we retire?

Whatever it is, it's not half
so wearisome and dull

as what ladies talk about.

Well, I would not want to join it,

it is all cigar smoke and old ideas.

Mr. Darcy, coffee?

The men Shan't come and part us,
I am determined.

We want none of them, do we?

No, we want none of them.

When I was only 15,

I received a proposal from a gentleman,

which I refused.

I meant to accept
the second time he asked,

but alas, he did not ask again.

Was not that inconstancy?

You do not find that same
weak nature in a woman.

A man would find a second
proposal a weakness.

There could be no indignity
so abhorrent to his feelings.

- I think that you are wrong.
- I know I am right.

Tell me...

Is your sister still at Pemberley?

Yes, she will remain there till Christmas.

And quite alone?
Have all her friends left her?

They have gone to Scarborough
these three weeks.

There are better conversations
to be had with women than with men.

Men are a different species
altogether, I declare.

There, he is gone.

You are saved the trouble
of talking to him.

Your mother will make him play whist

and he will not be able
to bother us again.

What a cold, proud man he seemed.

Who is he?

That was Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy?

Oh!

- Good night.
- Good night.

Good night.

- Good night, mama.
- Good night, girls.

Well, girls, what say you to that?

I think it all passed off
remarkably well.

And a lean duck is better than a fat one,

for all they say.

And the venison was roasted to a turn

and the soup was 50 times better

than what they had
at the Lucases last week.

Even Mr. Darcy acknowledged
that the partridges were well done,

and he must have two or three
French cooks at least.

Oh, Jane, I never saw you
in greater beauty.

Even Mrs. Long
agreed with me and said,

"Mrs. Bennet, we shall see her
at Netherfield at last."

Thank you, miss.

Oh, Hill!
Hill?

Set the birds to boil
before you go to bed.

Well?

It has been a very agreeable evening.

The party seemed so well selected.

I hope we may often meet again.

Oh, pray, do not smile.

You must not suspect me,
it mortifies me.

I am perfectly satisfied
from Mr. Bingley's present manners

that he never had any design
of engaging my affection.

It is only that he is blessed
with greater sweetness of address,

and a stronger desire of generally
pleasing than any other man.

You are too cruel.

You will not let me smile,

yet are provoking me
to do it every minute.

Oh, how hard it is
in some cases to be believed.

Why do you wish to persuade me

that I feel more than I acknowledge?

We all love to instruct,

though we teach only what is
not worth knowing.

Forgive me.

Oh.

Jane! Make haste!
Hurry down!

Hurry down!
He's come!

Mr. Bingley is come. Make haste!
Surely you are ready?

Jenkins, where are you?

Never mind about
miss Lizzy's hair,

there's nothing to be
done about it anyway.

- Go into miss Jane, and help her
with her gown. - Yes, ma'am.

Hill?! Mr. Bennet, where are you going?

To the library.

But Mr. Bingley is coming to tea.
Mr. Bingley is here.

Well, he may make an appointment
to see me if he wishes.

He is a pleasant enough young man.

Hill?

Mary, my love,

should you not go upstairs
and practice your instrument?

- Oh, but, mama.
- Go on upstairs, dear.

What is the matter, mama?

Why do you keep winking at me?

Winking? I did not wink at you.

- What am I to do?
- Nothing, nothing, my child.

Good heavens.

You've come downstairs without your lace.

Oh pray, go and look for it.

I have my lace, mama.
Can you not see it?

Oh, I declare it was
there all the time.

Honest mistake.

Mrs. Bennet.

My love?
Kitty, I want to speak to you.

What good fortune that I had no
engagements at all for this afternoon

and could accept your mother's invitation.

Ah, yes, what good fortune.

Lizzy, I want to speak to you.

Miss Eliza.

Mother, we should not.
What will Mr. Bingley think of us?

Mr. Bingley thinks well enough of us,
for all you say.

Oh, Lizzy.

Oh, how shall I bear such happiness,

to give such pleasure
to all my dear family?

Mr. Bingley has gone
to speak to father.

We are to be married.

In spite of Mr. Darcy,
in spite of miss Bingley.

Oh, the happiest, wisest,
most reasonable end.

Oh!

I congratulate you, Jane.

I have not a doubt of you and your...

Bingley doing well together.

You are each so complying, that
nothing will ever be resolved upon;

so easy, that every
servant will cheat you;

and so generous, that you will
always exceed your income.

Exceed their income?

My dear Mr. Bennet,
what are you talking of?

Why he has 5 or 6,000 a year,
very likely more.

Oh, Jane, I'm so happy. I'm sure
I shan't get a wink of sleep all night.

I knew how it would be.

I was sure you could not be
so beautiful for nothing.

Oh, Lizzy, if I could
but see you as happy.

If there were but such
another man for you.

If you were to give me 40 such men,

I never could be as happy as you.

Till I have your disposition,
your goodness,

I can never have your happiness.

No, let me shift for myself

and perhaps in time,
if I have very good luck,

I may meet with another Mr. Collins.

Lizzy, lady Catherine de Bourgh.

I hope you are well, miss Bennet.

That lady, I suppose, was your mother.

You have a very small park here,

and your windows face full west.

Most inconvenient in a sitting room
in the summer.

You know, of course, why I am here?

Your own heart, your own conscience
must tell you so.

Indeed, madam. Perhaps you have
a letter from Charlotte.

Do not trifle with me, miss Bennet.

However insincere you may be,
you will not find me so.

My character was ever celebrated

for its sincerity and frankness,

and at such a moment as this,

I shall certainly not depart from it.

I have received a report
of a most alarming nature.

That not only was your sister

to be most advantageously married,

but that you - that miss Eliza Bennet,

was shortly to be united
with my nephew -

my own nephew, Mr. Darcy.

It is, of course,
a scandalous falsehood,

and one impossible to be true.

If you believed it
to be impossible to be true,

I wonder why you took
the trouble of coming so far.

What could your ladyship propose by it?

At once to insist that such a report
is universally contradicted.

Your coming to see me

would be rather a confirmation
of such a report,

if indeed it exists.

If?

Do you pretend to be ignorant of it?

Has it not been industriously
circulated by yourself?

Do you not know that such
a report is spread abroad?

I never heard it was.

And can you likewise declare
that there is no foundation in it?

I do not pretend to
possess equal frankness

with your ladyship,

you may ask me questions which
I shall not choose to answer.

This is not to be borne, miss Bennet.

I insist on being satisfied.

Has he? Has my nephew made
you an offer of marriage?

Your ladyship has declared it
to be impossible.

It ought to be so.
It must be so.

While he retains the use of his reason,

but with arts and allurements
you may have drawn him into it.

And he is intended for my daughter;
now what have you to say?

If that is so...

Then you can have no reason to
suppose he'll make an offer to me.

From their infancy they have
been intended for each other.

It was his mother's
favourite wish, and my own.

Is their union, so long planned,

so soon to be accomplished,

to be prevented by a young woman
of inferior birth

and of no position in the world?

Do you pay no regard
to the wishes of his friends?

Are you lost to all feelings
of propriety and delicacy?

If there are no other objections

to my marrying your nephew,

than that his mother and
his aunt planned otherwise,

I shall certainly not be kept from it.

If Mr. Darcy is neither
by honour or inclination

confined to his cousin,

why may he not make another choice?

And if I am that choice,

why may I not accept him?

Because decorum, prudence,
and interest all forbid it.

Yes, miss Bennet, interest.
You will be censured,

slighted, and despised
by everyone connected with him.

These are heavy misfortunes,

but the wife of Mr. Darcy

must have such extraordinary
sources of happiness

necessarily attached to her situation

that she could, upon the whole,
have no cause to repine.

Obstinate, headstrong girl.

Are you to pollute
the shades of Pemberley?

Who are your uncles and aunts? Who?

Your sister's marriage,
a patched-up business.

Your sister's husband - son
of a steward, an infamous eloper.

Now to be Mr. Darcy's brother?

You have insulted me
in every method possible,

I must beg you to leave.

Tell me once and for all,
are you engaged to Mr. Darcy?

I am not.

Will you promise me never
to enter such an engagement?

I will make no promise of the kind.

I shall not go away until you have
given me the assurance I require.

And I shall certainly never give it.

Good day.

Unfeeling, selfish girl -

lost to duty, honour, and gratitude.

I take no leave of you, miss Bennet.

I send no compliments to your mother,

you deserve no such attention.

I am most seriously displeased.

She is a very fine-looking woman.

And her calling here
was prodigiously civil,

for I suppose she only came to tell us

the Collinses were well.

She's on her road somewhere, I dare say.

Finding herself in Meryton, thought
she might as well call upon you.

I suppose she did not have anything

particular to say to you, did she?

Now Lizzy, I have received
a letter this morning

which has astonished me exceedingly.

I did not know before that I had two
daughters on the brink of matrimony.

Let me congratulate you
on a very important conquest.

A letter, sir, from whom?

Well, the letter is from Mr. Collins,

but I think I may defy even your sagacity,

to discover the name of your admirer.

What does Mr. Collins say, sir?

Why... eventually,
the "chosen partner of your fate

may reasonably be looked up to

as one of the most illustrious
personages in the land".

He fears that you may be
inclined on this account

to take immediate advantage

of this mysterious gentleman's proposals,

and warns of the evils
you may incur by so doing.

Now, Lizzy, guess who the gentleman is.

Indeed, sir, I cannot.

Mr. Darcy is Mr. Collins' man!

Now, Lizzy, I think I have surprised you.

Mr. Darcy, who never looked on
any woman but to find blemish,

and probably never looked
on you in his life -

put forward by Mr. Collins as your suitor.

It is admirable. What an
excellent source of diversion

Mr. Collins has become to us all.

Oh, yes.
Pray, read on.

Well, he rebukes me for having received

Lydia and Wickham into my house.

I should, it seems, I have
forgiven them as a Christian,

but never have admitted them
into my house

nor allowed their names to be
mentioned within my hearing.

You know, whenever I receive
a letter from Mr. Collins,

I cannot help but give him
precedence over Wickham,

much as I value the impudence

and hypocrisy of my son-in-law.

Oh... Mr. Darcy!

His perfect indifference
and your pointed dislike -

it is delightfully absurd.

Lizzy, you look as if
you did not enjoy it.

Don't tell me you're going to be missish

and pretend to be affronted
by an idle report?

Oh, no, sir.

I am excessively diverted.

And there is expectation
of a happy event,

a young Collins olive branch.

- Bingley is here.
- Mr. Bingley is always here.

He comes before breakfast
and never goes before supper.

Quick, Mr. Bennet, to the door!

I am a very selfish creature.

And for the sake of giving relief
to my own feelings

care not how much
I may be wounding yours.

Ever since I have known

of your unexampled kindness
to my poor sister,

I have wished to thank you,

but had no opportunity.

I thought only of you.

You are too generous to trifle with me.

If your feelings are
what they were last April,

tell me so at once.

My affections and wishes are unchanged.

But one word from you will silence
me on the subject forever.

Mr. Darcy, since last April

my sentiments have undergone
so material a change

as to make me receive
your present assurances

with gratitude...
And pleasure.

It is lady Catherine's doing.

Her indignation
at your perverseness

imparted at length to me,
taught me to hope.

Had you been absolutely
irrevocably decided against me,

you would have acknowledged
it to her frankly and openly.

You know enough of my frankness

to believe me capable of that.

After abusing you
so abominably to your face,

I could have no scruple in abusing
you to all your relations.

What did you say of me
that I did not deserve?

Your reproof so well applied
I shall never forget.

But had you behaved in a more
gentlemanlike manner -

- Oh, do not repeat it.
- You have destroyed the letter?

It might justly make you hate me.

It shall be burned...
At once.

Dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth,

by you I was properly humbled.

No, I did not blame you
for coming to Pemberley,

I felt nothing but surprise.

My object then was to show you I was
not so mean as to resent the past.

As to my gravity and thoughtfulness
on hearing the news of Lydia,

I had already resolved
to leave in search of her.

So you gave your permission
for Bingley to marry Jane?

I guessed as much.

Confessed interference in his affairs -

it was absurd, and impertinent of me.

But he never had the slightest suspicion.

The more I saw of them together

the more I was convinced of her
real affection. I never doubted his.

And your assurance of it, I suppose,
carried immediate conviction to him?

It did.

What set you off in the first place?

I cannot fix the hour or the spot
or the look or the words

which laid the foundation,

I was in the middle of it
before I knew it had begun.

My beauty, you had earlier withstood.

As for my manners, did you admire
my impertinence?

You were sick of civility, I dare say,

of deference, of officious attention.

I aroused and interested you

because I was so unlike the rest.

I did not want your approbation.

There, I have saved you the
trouble of accounting for it.

And all things considered,

I begin to think it perfectly reasonable,

to be sure, you know no actual good of me.

But nobody thinks of that

when they fall in love.

£10,000 a year?

How rich and great my Lizzy will be.

What pin money!

What jewels, what carriages she will have.

I hope Mr. Darcy will overlook
my having disliked him so much.

Three daughters married?
I shall grow distracted.

Mr. Darcy - what an uproar
there will be.

But for what do we live,
but to make sport for our neighbours,

and laugh at them in our turn?

Mrs. Bennet?

If any young men come for Kitty or Mary,

send them in, for I am quite at leisure.