All language subtitles for 01-Sense and Sensibility 1971.s01e01.Farewell to Norland

CLATTERING

SERVANTS GRUNT

No, no, I cannot stand it!

Don't look, Mama.
Turn your head away.

To be reduced to being mere visitors
on sufferance in one's own house!

No, indeed, I cannot endure it.

Oh, poor beloved Norland!

CLATTERING

Look at them!

Like the hordes of an invading army!

But you must remember -
the house is now theirs by right.

Oh, don't talk to me of rights!

What are they compared with feelings

and the concerns of the human heart?

Oh, believe me,
I do understand your attitude.

But alas, strong feelings alone
are of no great value

in a court of law.

Oh! Now come, Mama.

How they can be so insensitive
as to force their way in

and dispossess us with the ink
scarcely dry upon the will,

I do not know.

Well, one thing is certain.

I cannot bring myself to be civil
to that young woman.

No, nor I. But, Mother!

I'm sure it is all her doing!

Oh, well.

My mind is quite made up.

I shall seek some other place
for us to live.

I cannot remain here on sufferance.

What, and leave Norland?

I... I think I should die!

Fanny, my love,
I have been thinking.

I feel it as an obligation
that we should make

some additional provision
for the girls and their mother.

After all, Norland has been
their home all their lives.

Remember, John dear,
they are only your half sisters,

and their mother, excellent woman
though no doubt she may be,

is no blood relation at all.

Oh, yes, quite.

But it was my father's
last request to me

that I should assist
his widow and daughters.

So you say, dear.

But ten to one,
he was light-headed at the time.

He must have been, to persuade you

to give half your fortune away
from your own child.

I... But do exactly as you wish,
of course.

The money is yours.

In that case, we will settle
the matter immediately.

Very well, John dear.

But it was not my intention to give
away half this legacy, my love,

although I suppose it could be said

that we were already reasonably
provided for ourselves.

No, I was thinking in terms
of an annuity of some sort.

An annuity?

Oh, John dear, is that wise?

I have not seen
Mrs Dashwood closely,

but if you observe,
people always seem to live forever

once an annuity
has been settled upon them.

No, I cannot agree to that.

But the decision is entirely yours,
of course.

DOOR OPENS

Please ask Mrs Dashwood
and the Miss Dashwoods

if they would be kind enough
to join us.

DOOR SHUTS

No, you are probably quite right,
my love.

On second thoughts,
it would be wiser, possibly,

to make it a fixed amount.

And no doubt they would
greatly prefer it that way.

What sum had you in mind?

Well...

..would you think £1,000
to be an adequate amount?

£1,000?

I should think they would
consider it a prodigious increase

to their fortunes.

What brother on earth would
do half as much for his sisters,

I'd like to know,
even if they were his real sisters?

You think it is too much, then?

Oh, no, indeed. Not in the least.

If that is the sum
you are settled upon.

I was merely thinking
that three women alone

with no man to guide them,

one wouldn't like to feel they might
become the prey of fortune hunters.

Oh, that is true.

That is very true.

A smaller sum prudently invested

would not prove a temptation
to the unscrupulous,

while in addition
to what they already have,

should secure their independence -

if they are careful.

To be sure it would.

Indeed, I am certain your father
had no thought of anything

near so generous in his mind.
THEY CHUCKLE

You are probably quite right,
my love.

Goodness!

Three women alone, with no carriage
and scarcely any servants?

Their housekeeping
will be nothing at all.

Indeed, you can depend upon it.

They will be far better off
than we are in this great house

with 20 servants
and so much entertaining to be done.

As to your giving them more,

it's quite absurd.

If you ask me, they will be much
more able to give you something.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Ah, here they are.

Come in.

Well, now, there is
no need to extend to you

a welcome to what is...

Oh.

My mother and Marianne ask me
to apologise,

but they're very busy
sewing at the moment.

They hope to be down shortly.

Indeed.

I trust that you're quite
comfortably settled, Fanny?

I always think moving house
is so fatiguing.

Thank you.

We are getting straight by degrees.

Good, I'm so glad.

Well, now, we wish
to make it quite clear -

do we not, my love? -

that though by the terms
of my father's bequest,

Norland has now passed into
my possession,

we naturally wish to extend
a very sincere welcome...

Yes, what is it?

Oh, I beg your pardon. I...

I was not aware.

Oh, do please come in. Ah, Edward!

May I present my wife's brother,
Mr Edward Ferrars. Miss Dashwood.

How do you do, Mr Ferrars?

How do you do, ma'am?

Fanny and Edward's dear mother
has a very fine place

not far from Tunbridge Wells.
Is that so?

Yes, a very fine place indeed.

Edward, please be seated!
Oh, do sit down.

I do beg your pardon.

Yes, as I was saying, the, er...

The timber alone is considered to be
some of the most valuable

in the south of England.

You say he's handsome, but has
he what I call an expressive face?

Oh, yes, I think so.

One can hardly credit such a thing,
somehow, in one of that family!

At least he bears
no resemblance at all to Fanny.

Oh, then that is enough for me.

It implies everything
that is amiable.

I'm sure you will both like him
when you get to know him.

Like him? I almost love him already.

Oh, dearest Mama,
you are incorrigible.

Oh, Elinor, my love.

I do apologise for
my outburst just now

and for my childish refusal
to meet her.

From henceforth,
I promise you I will mend my ways.

Oh, what should we do without
our wise, our prudent Elinor?

But what are his interests, Elinor,
and his powers of conversation?

Rather limited, I fear.

As I say, he scarcely spoke a word.

And yet you liked him, eh?

For you did like him a little,
my love, I think, did you not?

What I was permitted to see and hear

while brother John was holding forth
about the great wealth

and perfection of
the Ferrars family in general,

I liked well enough, certainly.

CREAKING

Ah, Miss Dashwood.

Oh, am I the first down?

I was just admiring
this view of the house.

Were you the artist?

I was, yes.

Well, I don't profess to be
a great judge of these...matters,

but it seems most excellent to me.

From where exactly did you take it?

The viewpoint is most novel.

Ah, well, I am afraid my sister
must take the credit

for that, Mr Ferrars.

She has a great eye for
the picturesque.

I merely record
what is before me as best I can.

I'm sure you underestimate yourself.

MARIANNE: Elinor!

And here she is -
so you can ask her yourself.

For heaven's sake, save me
from brother John and that awful...

Oh!

DOOR SHUTS

I beg your pardon.

Mr Edward Ferrars,
my sister Marianne.

How do you do, Miss...Marianne.

How do you do?

Mr Ferrars was intrigued to know
from which point

the sketch was taken.

I was about to tell him
that we could show him

many others equally fine,
could we not?

You could, Elinor, but I'm afraid
I could not. Marianne!

Mr Ferrars,
wise and discerning man,

has paid you the compliment of
admiring your work.

Please don't embarrass him
by dragging me into it.

Mm.

But I thought I heard the gong.

Ah, well, in that case, perhaps...
Oh, no!

I might well have been mistaken.

Please, excuse me.

There are several
other sketches of my sister's,

which I'm sure you would
like to see, on that wall.

Over here?

I'm sorry, Mr Ferrars, but you
cannot possibly wish to see them.

But I do.

DINNER GONG

Ah, good.
Then we may all go in for dinner.

"My fugitive years
are all hasting away,

"And I...must ere long lie
as lowly as they,

"With a turf on m-my breast
and a stone at my head

"Ere another such grove
shall arise in its stead."

HE CLEARS THROAT

"Tis a sight to engage...me,
if anything can

"To muse on the perishing
pleasures of Man,

"Though his life be a dream,
his enjoyments, I see,

"Have a Being less durable
even than he."

Bravo, bravo!

You chose well, Edward.

It's a particular favourite of
Marianne's. Isn't it, my love?

Yes, Mama.

Well, now,
who else will entertain us?

Elinor, may we be permitted
the pleasure of hearing you sing?

Oh, I doubt very much
whether you would account it

a pleasure, brother, if I did.

No, Marianne is
the musician in the family.

She is an accomplished singer.

Ah. Marianne?

I'm sorry, I'm afraid
I have a sore throat.

Oh, dearest, you never told me!

Well, then, perhaps the young people
would like a hand at cards.

John dear? Yes, dear.

And what is
your opinion of the novels

of Mrs Radcliffe, cousin Edward?

Well, if it's just
an opinion you want, cousin,

I will give it readily.

But I have to admit, in all honesty,

that I haven't read them.

Do you mean you actually haven't
read The Castle Of Otranto?

I have to confess it.
I have not. Oh!

There, now I suppose
you will never speak to me again.

Oh, Marianne!

One cannot possibly expect
gentlemen to read such things.

Why not, pray? Elinor dear.

They are intended for...
Brother John is trying

to attract your attention.
..the consumption our sex only.

Oh, nonsense!

The differentiation of sex
has nothing whatever to do with it.

Yes, Mama?

FANNY: Well, now, who would
care for a game of whist?

Elinor?

If you wish it, Cousin Fanny,
but I'm quite happy as I am.

FANNY: Marianne?

I will not play, thank you.

I always find cards rather
a poor substitute

for intelligent conversation.

FANNY: Edward?

Oh, I'm no good
at intelligent conversation.

I'm for cards every time.

Good! Splendid.

Well, now, perhaps
Edward and Elinor would be content

to play two-handed, eh?

Elinor dear?

If Mr Ferrars would not find that
too tedious, yes, of course, Mama.

Tedious? Indeed no.

I should like it of all things.

Now, shall we play whist
or shall we play something else?

Well, then, we shall leave them
to their game, shall we?

John dear, be so good
as to ring for a lamp.

Yes.

How dark it is getting
in the evenings, is it not?

We shall have to have
a fire very soon, no doubt.

MARIANN: I see he's quite made you
his confidante, sister.

I do not attempt to deny that I have
come to think very highly of him,

that I like and, indeed,
greatly esteem him.

Like? Esteem him?

Oh, cold-hearted Elinor!

Nay, worse than cold-hearted!

Ashamed of being otherwise!

Use such language again, and
I shall leave the room immediately.

Dear Marianne.

I meant no offence to you in
speaking so quietly of my feelings.

Well, believe me, they are stronger
than I have stated.

But I feel at this stage
that it would be premature,

even a little immodest, to disclose
them too fully even to myself.

Well, if you're not already engaged,

I'm pretty certain you soon will be.

Dear Marianne!

I really must ask you to curb
that eager imagination of yours.

Oh, fie, Elinor! He's at least
as partial to you as you are to him.

Go on, Elinor, admit it.

Well, sometimes I think so, yes.

Then at others,
there's a kind of coolness.

No, not a coolness, a reserve.

A want of candour, almost,
that disturbs me a little.

It is not like him.

No, perhaps I do him an injustice.

It is my imagination, no doubt.

But how can you bear the thought
of leaving Norland now?

I almost hope Mama's letter
remains unanswered.

Why? The situation is unaltered.

Oh, Elinor!
How can you pretend such a thing?

What I mean is that if Edward's
feelings will not survive

my mere removal to another district,

then the sooner that I am acquainted
with the fact, the better.

A cottage, you say?

And where is it situated?

Near Exeter on
the estate of a kinsman of mine,

Sir John Middleton.

Sir John Middleton!

Now, he is a man of considerable
substance, I believe.

So I believe.

I was not aware
that he was a kinsman of yours.

You would do well to place yourself
under his protection,

I would say, very well indeed.

But Devonshire is a great way off.

Must you really go so far?

I'm afraid so.

Oh, dear.

If you are thinking of the expense
of the removal, my love,

I'm sure a man in
Sir John Middleton's position

would be prepared to assist.

We have no spare transport
or labour here,

as I expect you realise.

Oh, of course.
I wouldn't hear of such a thing.

But I hope once
we're properly settled at Barton,

we could persuade you
to pay us a visit.

Oh, that's very civil of you,
I'm sure.

Though, I am afraid
we shall not be in a position

to make such long and costly
journeys ourselves

for a considerable time to come.

Yes, we shall have to measure
our expenses very carefully.

Very carefully indeed.

Edward, then.

I'm sure that the girls will be
quite heartbroken

if you are not
our very first guest.

Thank you, Mrs Dashwood.

I'm only sorry
that you're going so far.

However, I shall be very glad...
Edward, I am afraid,

is not free, ma'am.

He has his career to think of.

Indeed.

This is news.

I was not aware that I had one.

Mother and Fanny are
obsessed with the notion

that I should enter Parliament,
Mrs Dashwood,

regardless of the fact
that I am quite incapable of

m-making a speech to save my life.

They would make me
a man of consequence.

Or at least have me drive around
London in a barouche

with the appearance of one.

I hope, Edward, your poor mother
never gets to hear

of such a statement.

She will not, Fanny dear,
unless someone repeats it to her.

Well, then, it only remains
for me to say once again

that we shall expect you at Barton
in the very near future, Edward.

And to thank you, my dears,
for putting up with us

at Norland for so long.

When he comes, I shall leave you.

Why? He will want to say goodbye
to you as well as to me.

DOOR OPENS
FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING

Oh, just these two, please, Charles.

We'll have them inside,
I think, if there's room.

Ah, here you are. Good.

Now I can say
my farewells to you both.

Adieu, dear Edward.
I shall not say farewell.

CHUCKLES: Oh, don't run away.

No, please. I-I'm sorry!
There's something...

I think perhaps we should all go.

Edward and I will come with you.

It's time we were in the carriage

if we're to reach
Midhurst by midday.

Then I shall follow you in a moment.

Will you not come, too?

SOFTLY: Please, Edward.

Can you not see
that I wish to be alone?

Dear Norland.

Farewell.

Sweet garden.

Goodbye, curtains.

Oh, happy, happy house!

MRS DASHWOOD: Marianne!
The horses are getting restive.

Marianne!

Welcome to Barton Cottage,
ma'am, and young ladies.

Thank you. Mary, isn't it?

That's right, ma'am.

Oh, what a beautiful fire!

Oh, goodness, what a welcome sight!
I'm quite frozen.

Well, now,
there's nothing like a good fire -

that's what I always say.

But there, you'd like some nice tea,
I expect.

Oh, thank you. Thank you.

And I've taken the liberty
of making you one of my lardy cakes.

Indeed? How kind.

Sir John, he always says,
"Mary," he says,

"there isn't anyone could make
a lardy what like you can."

That's what he says. Look.

Well, now.

You'd like to take
your things off, I expect.

Thank you.

Thank you, Mary.

Thank you.

Oh.

DOOR SHUTS

Well, what in heaven's name
is a lardy cake?

Marianne, you're very silent.

Poor dear, the motion of travelling
never did agree with you.

Never mind, a hot cup of tea'll
soon settle you, no doubt.

It's all right, Mama,

I'm not distressed in body,
merely in spirit.

Marianne, you shouldn't think
so much of what we've left behind

as what lies ahead.

Elinor, how can you say that when
we've left all that is most dear?

If I do not weep, it is merely
for the good reason

that weeping will not help our case.

Besides, we have much to be
thankful for, Mama, have we not?

Oh, yes, indeed, my love.

A new life, new surroundings,
new acquaintances.

New acquaintances? In Devonshire?

Why not?

Devonshire is peopled surely much
in the same manner as Sussex.

And the Middletons have been most
cordial in their letters.

Well, they've lived here for
generations.

I am sure they are quite
a numerous circle.

SIR JOHN: Well, Mary, my dear!

Oh, I think I hear Sir John. Quick.
SIR JOHN BLATHERING

Oh, no.

In here, are they? In the...

In the sitting room? That's right.

Well, well! Cousin Dashwood, eh?

Welcome to Devonshire, my dears!

Well, now, do I get a kiss? Mm!

John dear, Mrs Dashwood is probably
fatigued after her long journey.

Oh, nonsense! You ain't fatigued,
are you, my dear?

Ooh, I should have introduced you.

This is my wife, Lady Middleton.
How do you do, cousin?

John dear, what has become of
little William? Oh, that boy!

He's a regular rascal.

He'll be all right,
I expect, my dear.

And these are the two young
ladies, eh? Yes.

May I introduce Miss Dashwood.
Miss Marianne.

Er... Lady Middleton. Sir John.

Oh, how do you do, my dears?
How do you do?

Well, gracious me!

I was hardly expecting to see
two such fine young creatures.

No, indeed not.

Oh, I can see all the gentlemen
are going to be set

by the ears now, my love, eh?

CHICKENS CLUCKING

Just one moment.

I thought I heard something.

CHICKENS CLUCKING

There, I knew it!

He's in the yard.
He will get his feet wet.

Oh, leave the boy alone, my dear.
He'll come to no harm.

John, how can you say that when you
know how delicate the boy is?

Well, we must conclude our business
briefly and be off home.

Now, our object in greeting you,
cousins,

was to extend a most hearty welcome

to come and dine with us at the hall
every day

until you're well settled in.

There, how's that, then?
Sir John, you are too generous!

Really, no...
Oh, nonsense, nonsense!

We won't take no for an answer.
Will we, dear?

Well, now, that's all arranged.

The carriage will call
for you at 3:30.

Oh! You will excuse the smallness
of the company at such short notice.

Merely my old friend Colonel Brandon
and my wife's mother.

No young gallants,
I'm afraid, my dears,

but we old 'uns will do
our best to give you

a jolly evening in our own style.

SOFTLY: Are we leaving?
Yeah, well, come on, my dear.

Mustn't keep these good people
about any longer.

I must see where he is.
I think you fret about that boy

a little too much, my dear.

Bye-bye, ladies, then.

DOOR SHUTS

Oh, lovely!

POLITE CHATTER

Simply lovely!

SOLEMN CHORD PLAYS
Sh!

Brandon, another glass of claret.

Oh, come on, Colonel, come on!

You've only had but the one.

MARIANNE SINGS

What?

Oh, is it?

Oh, right you are, then.

Righty-ho.

# "Sing, brave harp, sing

# "Though I falter," he cries

# Faint is his aged voice

# But his spirit is so strong

# Mountains and valleys

# All echo his song

# David our minstrel... #

SOFTLY: I'm sorry.

Mrs Dashwood.

May I come and sit down here?

Oh, Mrs Jennings.

THEY CHUCKLE

You certainly have
two fine girls, Mrs Dashwood.

SHE GIGGLES

Ain't you proud, eh?

That's very kind of you,
Mrs Jennings.

Mama, shh.

Two lovely girls, and I should know,

because I have
two fine girls myself!

There's Mary here.

And another, younger,
but also married, thank goodness.

SHE CHUCKLES

Ooh, the relief!

And they both have done
remarkably well for themselves,

I do assure you.

Oh, the anxiety we poor mothers
have to undergo, eh, Mrs Dashwood?

Oh! Bravo!

APPLAUSE

Lovely! Thank you, Miss Dashwood.

Oh, bravo, my dear!
Encore, encore, encore!

Now, may we have the one
about the fellow with the harp?

You know, what a lovely piece!

You know the one I mean,
a lovely song.

That's what I've just sung,
Sir John.

Is it, my dear? Well, sing him
again, then. Sing him again.

I have yet to hear that song
more beautifully sung.

Look at Colonel Brandon!

SHE GASPS

I declare, he's quite taken a fancy
to your Miss Marianne already.

Oh, I always know.
You ask either of my girls.

You can't deceive me.

And I can assure you, Mrs Dashwood,

you'd do very well to get
the Colonel as a son-in-law.

Oh, really, Mrs Jennings?

He's a very fine, honourable man!

A shade too solemn for
my taste, of course,

and hardly what you could call
a young man these days.

But there's property there,
Mrs Dashwood.

Oh, there's property there
all right.

Please, Mama. Oh, my dear!
Very well, dear.

Oh! If you would excuse us,
Lady Middleton.

What a shame!
SIR JOHN: Oh, but you're not going?

So soon? Oh, what a disappointment!

We cannot allow this,
can we, Brandon?

We're having such a wonderful time1
I'm afraid we're rather fatigued

after our long travels.
Oh, very well, if you must.

Come, Elinor, my love.
They must be exhausted.

Now, tomorrow night,

I think I can promise you
some real young company.

Oh, tomorrow night
we'll have a right old to-do

with all the neighbourhood, eh?

Your singing was lovely, dear.

ELINOR: Goodbye, Mrs Jennings.
Goodnight, my dear.

A little bird tells me that
someone's left her heart in Sussex.

Is that not so, eh?

SHE LAUGHS

I think I see someone colouring up
a little, do I not?

Do you, Mrs Jennings?
I think not, madam!

Oh! Blushing is NOT one of
my sister's many accomplishments.

Oh, there, now!

That's me thoroughly put in
my place, is it not?

Well said, my dear.

Oh, well, I suppose
we must let 'em go.

Till tomorrow, then!

And come early, mind.

MRS JENNINGS CHUCKLES

Oh, lovely girls!

Simply wonderful
to have young people in the house.

My darling, are you going out?

Yes, soon as the rain
eases a little.

You know, do you not, my love,

that Sir John spoke of walking down
later with Colonel Brandon?

Yes, I do,
and that, to be quite honest,

is one of the reasons for my walk.

SHE PLAYS PIANO

Oh, Marianne!

How unkind you sometimes are
in your judgments.

I know Sir John may be
a little overpowering,

but even you must admit
he has a kind heart.

Oh, Mama!

Well, if that's not damning
with faint praise...

Well, Colonel Brandon, then.

He seems a genuine sort of man.

And serious enough even for you,
my love.

Mrs Jennings likes to laugh at him.

Now, that's what I call
really unkind,

to make sport of a man of his age.

He can't help his years,
poor fellow. My dear girl,

you speak of him
as though he were an old man.

Well, so he is.

Oh, my dearest girl,

he cannot be more than 35 or 36
at the most.

Oh, I'm not so concerned
with mere years.

But did you not notice that
he spoke of nothing but rheumatism

and flannel lined waistcoats?

Well, I mean, that to me is old age.

Oh, but let us not speak
of the Colonel.

It's Edward's strange behaviour
that fills me so with apprehension.

Still no letter this morning.

It's not so very long since
we were at Norland.

Not long?
You call two whole weeks not long?

Really, much as I like Edward,

there's a dreadful
want of ardour about him

that would not suit me at all,
I'm afraid.

Poor Elinor.

She puts a brave face on it,

but I can see that underneath it,
she suffers.

Come, Marianne,
if we are to go walking,

then I think we should do
so before it rains again.

Yes, let us, by all means!

Oh, Elinor!

What a subject for your pencil!

Elinor?

Oh, I think I felt a spot of rain.

If only there was something
picturesque here in the foreground.

An ivy-clad ruin or something.

There. Do you not see it in
your mind's eye?

I felt another. It is, it's raining.

Oh, poo. It's nothing. It'll pass.

Yes, and in the meantime,
this dress will be ruined.

All right. Let's shelter
for a moment under that tree.

Come on.

Oh, Marianne!

Oh, is there a sensation
more splendid?

Marianne, be careful! Come on!

Ow!

What have you done?

Are you all right?

My ankle.

I've twisted my ankle.

Keep still. Let me take your shoe.

Is she much hurt?

Sir! I saw you running down
the hill then I heard a cry.

No, really, I'm quite all right,
thank you.

It's no good, Marianne,
you cannot possibly walk!

That won't do at all.
Come along now. Oh, please!

Allow me, please.

Oh, sir, can you?
Is she not too heavy?

Heavy?
No, she's as light as a feather.

Oh, your gun.

Leave that. It'll come to no harm.

But won't it get rusty?

In here, on the sofa, if you please.

Here? Yes.

There. Ow.

I'm sorry. It's all right.

Well, there we are, then,
safe at last.

Oh, poor soul.

She might have dashed
her brains out.

Some water, please, Mary, and some
strips of rag for a cold compress.

Very well, ma'am.

Oh, sir, I don't know
how to thank you enough!

Oh, yes, thank you.

And a thousand apologies for
my foolishness.

No apologies required,
I can assure you.

But, please,
no more running down hills

unless you're certain
that I'm in attendance.

HE CHUCKLES

Oh, but you cannot go like this,

sir, without our having
thanked you properly.

Well, I must. Besides, I'm in
no fit state to be amongst ladies.

Oh, thank you.

His name, Mama. Yes, dear.

At least, sir, perhaps you will tell
us to whom we are so much indebted?

Oh, of course. I'm sorry.

My name is Willoughby, ma'am.

And you may find me,
for the next few weeks at least,

down at Allenham House - which is
a mile or so along the road.

But I hope you will permit me
to call again tomorrow

to make my inquiries after
the invalid.

You will always be more than welcome
here, sir, I can assure you.

Thank you.

DOOR SHUTS

Mr Willoughby. Good day.

I came merely to make
my inquiries after the invalid.

The invalid, as you see,
is an invalid no longer.

No, no, no, no, no, please,

not too rapid a recovery,
I beg of you.

I've made it my intention to ride
by every day, with your permission.

So long as your health is
a matter of anxiety,

so permit me a few aches
and pains, please.

Oh, well, as you wish.

If you will excuse me,
there are several things

I've promised to do for my mother.

Elinor, don't go!

Just when Mr Willoughby has come.

Oh, your sister will have
many opportunities

to see me again, I'm afraid.

Never fear.

Willoughby! Oh, yeah,
to be sure I know him!

So he's at Allenham, is he?

Oh, this is capital news!

I must ride over
and ask him to join our picnic.

What sort of a young man is he,
cousin?

Oh, as good a fellow as ever lived,
I can assure you, ma'am.

He's a very decent shot

and you won't find a bolder rider
in England.

But what are his pursuits,

his talents, his genius?

Well, upon my soul, I don't know
about his genius, as you call it.

I only know he has the nicest little
pointer bitch as ever lived.

But who is he and where
does he come from?

Ah, now, as to that,
I can soon tell you.

Allenham is not his,
but he will inherit

when the present owner dies,
so they say.

And he already has a pretty little
estate up Somerset way, I'm told.

So I can assure you young ladies,
he's quite a catch.

Mr Willoughby need have
no fears of my girls, cousin.

Catching young men, as you call it,
be they never so rich,

is not an employment
to which they have been brought up.

Thank you, Mama. Oh!

But they couldn't do better
than catch young Willoughby, ma'am!

Why, he's one of the best fellows
alive, I can assure you.

Well, last Christmas,

at a little hop we had at the Park,

he danced from eight o'clock
till four in the morning

without once sitting down.

Did he? And with spirit,
with elegance?

Oh, yeah, and then eight
next morning,

he was up again and in the saddle.

So that'll show you
the sort of fellow he is, ma'am.

That is how a man should be!

Whatever his occupation, he should
pursue it to the uttermost,

without thought of fatigue.

Oh! So that's how it is, eh?

That's how it is.

Poor old Brandon. His nose is
quite out of joint already, eh?

I'm sure I don't know what you mean,
Sir John.

Isn't Miss Elinor here
going to be allowed a chance

whilst you set your cap
at all the men, eh?

That is an expression
I particularly dislike, Sir John.

If its use could ever have been
deemed at all witty,

that time has long since passed.

Marianne dear!

Oh, so that's it, is it?

Touched the udder raw a little,
have I, my dear?

HE CHORTLES

Miss Marianne!

Oh, I didn't know you'd come.

I've come as usual to make
my inquiries.

Well, you can see for yourself
how greatly improved I am.

See, I no longer need support.

I see nothing of the sort!

SHE SIGHS

But... But, please,
let your walking stick be me.

Thank you. Thank you indeed.

It seems I... I was
a little too sanguine in my hopes.

That is a very excellent fault.

Colonel Brandon!

You've come to inquire
after my sister, no doubt. How kind.

I have, but I gather
that I am forestalled.

She has another visitor, yes.

But let me go and tell her
that you're here.

No, no, please, do not disturb her.

But after you've walked over here
especially...

That is no great matter.

Besides, I have
a second purpose in calling,

which is to know if you
and your sister

would care to join the excursion
Sir John and I have arranged

to my brother-in-law's house,
Whitwell, on Friday.

I'm sure we should both
be delighted, Colonel Brandon.

I'm afraid I can't promise
you much young

and lively society, Miss Dashwood.

However, if you or your sister
would care to extend

the invitation to Willoughby,

please feel free to do so.

To Willoughby? You know him, then?

Yes, I know him.

In that case,
why not ask him yourself?

No, I should greatly prefer

that either you or your sister
should do so.

Very well, Colonel Brandon,
if that is your feeling.

Thank you. I'm greatly obliged
to you. Not at all.

Well, I...

If you will not join
my sister in the garden,

will you not sit here
for a moment?

That's very kind,
but I mustn't detain you.

However, I must confess that I did
hope for the opportunity

to speak to you, Miss Dashwood.

To me?

Your sister is a person of very
strong and fixed ideas, I think.

Oh, dear.
What has she been saying now?

She doesn't approve of such things
as second attachments, I believe?

No, her opinions are all romantic.

So in her eyes, all such attachments
are equally false.

She makes no distinction
for those unfortunate people

who may have been disappointed
in their first choice.

It isn't so much that she doesn't
approve of such attachments.

She doesn't admit
that they can exist.

Well, to her, love is something
which comes only once in a lifetime.

If you will instruct me
in the art of horsemanship,

then I will return the compliment,

if I may, by educating you in
your taste for literature.

HE SNORTS

Well, Miss Marianne,

I am an open book.

Write upon it what you will.

You must not take too much notice
of her, Colonel Brandon.

Her ideas are extremely romantic
and she is, of course, very young.

There is something very affecting
about the prejudices

of a young mind, I always think.

My sister's enthusiasms
are indeed rather strong.

I fear they sometimes have
the unfortunate appearance

of setting propriety at naught.

But a better acquaintance
with the world at large

will, I hope, bring
about some modification.

In the meantime, one can only hope
and pray that they do not receive

too sudden and too cruel a setback.

Indeed.

For when the romantic refinements
of a young mind

at last are obliged to give way...

..then is the danger.

No, no, no, I insist.

Nobody who is unfamiliar
with the poems of Cowper

can possibly claim to have
a properly educated mind.

Oh, come, come, Miss Marianne,
you're very hard on a fellow.

I have his complete works.

I shall lend them to you
volume by volume

and insist that you read them,
every line, from cover to cover.

Well, it'll be a labour of love,
I can assure you.

FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING

Pray, don't move.

I came merely to tell you that
Colonel Brandon has invited us all

to a picnic at Whitwell on Friday.

Is it not kind of him?
Brandon? Has he been here?

Invited us all?
Does that include Willoughby?

Oh, he particularly mentioned
Mr Willoughby,

yes, if he would care to come.

Oh, you will come, won't you?

Well, since you ask me,
Miss Marianne, indeed I will.

I think it extremely civil
of the Colonel.

He inquired particularly after you,
Marianne.

Hmm. He's a good-hearted man.

"Poor old Brandon."
That's what everyone says of him.

He has everybody's good word
and nobody's notice.

He's the kind of man
whom everybody's delighted to see

and nobody remembers to talk to.

That is exactly what I think!

On the contrary,
I particularly enjoy talking to him.

He's seen much of the world
and he has a thinking mind.

That must always be
an attraction to me. Well...

Yes, Marianne,
even in a man of between 30 and 40.

Miss Marianne, I see your sister
is in a saucy mood

and spoiling for a fight.

So I shall retire while I yet may.

Well, goodbye, then, ladies,
until Friday.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mr Willoughby.

Well, Marianne,
you've tried him on

Pope, Cowper and Sir Walter Scott.

I think for one morning
you've done pretty well.

You must admit
that he has great enthusiasm.

Oh, yes, and
that he's very handsome.

Oh, Elinor, he's promised
to give me a horse

so that we may ride together.

A horse?

You didn't say
you would accept it, I hope?

Well, why not?

Oh, the added expense of a groom
will be a mere trifle.

Oh, Elinor, think of it.

Galloping over those splendid downs.

You shall share it with me.

Thank you.

But I must say, I seriously question
the propriety of such a present

from a man you hardly know.

You're mistaken, Elinor dear,

in thinking I know
little of Willoughby.

Our acquaintance has not been long,
I grant you,

but days and hours
have nothing to do with it.

Oh, Elinor, if only you could hear
a word of Edward,

my cup of happiness
would indeed be full.

Are we all ready, then?

The horses will be
around in a moment.

Where is little William?
How are we getting on here?

Husband, have you seen him?

Oh, I expect he'll be all right,
my dear.

Now, then, who's coming
with us, eh?

Oh, dear. I only hope that girl

didn't give him
too rich a breakfast.

A long carriage journey always makes
him so unwell, poor lamb.

Miss Dashwood,
you will come in with us, I hope?

Wouldn't you rather have
one of your own family, madam?

Certainly not. We'd be delighted.
My dears!

Mr Willoughby has been most adroit,
I see.

He's brought along his phaeton
with room for one passenger only.

I think we need not ask
who that will be, hey?

Come along!

Oh! Here come the horses!

Come along!

OVERLAPPING SPEECH

Oh, come along, Brandon.

I didn't see you over there.
Come along.

I'm very sorry, I'm afraid our
excursion will have to be cancelled.

Oh, no! Cancelled?
Why so, Colonel Brandon?

I have to return
to London immediately.

What, today?
Yes, today, I'm afraid. Excuse me.

Oh, my dear! I'll never survive
the disappointment. My dear!

That is typical of the man.

I mean, there are some people
who cannot bear

the prospect of a day's pleasure.

There'll be no doubt he's fearful
of catching a cold or something.

But this is infuriating. Sh, sh, sh.

He won't spoil our day together.

I've got a plan of my own.

Come on.

I wager I know what
the Colonel's business is.

Mrs Jennings, I...

It concerns a certain young lady
in London, a very near relative.

Really, I... In fact, they do say
she's his natural daughter.

Mrs Jennings, I...
Hello! What's this, then, eh? Oh!

My! Our young friends have gone
off without waiting

for the starter's gun.

Oh, that's capital!

That's the spirit I like to see.
I knew there was romance in the air!

Yoicks! Yoicks!

Tally-ho! Tally-ho!