All language subtitles for Emma.E02

I have managed
two pages of Mr Milton.

"I may assert the ways of God to Man
and justify Eternal Providence."

That's very true, I think.

I think we have done
enough reading for today.

Such lofty thoughts require
a moment's pause

to reflect on their value.

I think we deserve
a look at our project.

Our collection of romantic riddles
is building up nicely.

I wonder, Miss Woodhouse,

that you are not yet married,
you are so charming.

I assure you, I have very little
intention of marrying at all.

Someone very superior
would have to come along

and even then
I would rather not be tempted.

It is so very odd to hear
a woman talk like that.

Were I in love,
it would be a different thing,

but I have never been in love.

It is not my way, or my nature,
and I don't think I ever shall.

And without love, why would
I want to change my situation?

I have fortune. I am occupied.

I do not think that there
is a wife alive

who has a better position
than mine at Hartfield.

But to be an old maid,

like Miss Bates!

That is a formidable image!

If I thought I was going to
end up like Miss Bates,

so silly, so apt to tell everyone
everything trivial about oneself,

then I would marry tomorrow!

But, ah, do not worry, Harriet,
for I shall be a rich old maid.

And it is only poor old maids
who invite the world's ridicule.

Though I must say, Miss Bates
is not exactly universally despised.

No-one is afraid of her
and that has a charm of its own.

And as for children,

I already have a multitude
of Knightley children

to always be sure of having
a niece about me at all times.

Go on.

Good afternoon, Miss Woodhouse.

Good afternoon, Mr Elton.
How kind of you to call.

Now I have brought you
this month's church flower rota.

Oh, erm, Mr Woodhouse told me that
you are compiling a portfolio

of riddles and verses
of a romantic nature.

On a moment's impulse I, er, well,

I wrote this contribution
for your collection.

It's, it's just a small verse,
not very good, I fear.

Thank you, Mr Elton...

(WHISPERS)... but would you not rather
give it to Miss Smith yourself?

Oh, no, no. I'm, uh, already
late for another appointment.

It will be quite safe in your hands.

(BELL CHIMES)

Oh... it is a riddle!

Exactly, a love poem.

He said it was to add
to our collection,

but I think we can guess
it relates to his regard for you.

I must say, I do wonder

it has taken him so long
to make his feelings known.

"My first displays
the wealth and pomp of kings.

"Another view of man, my second
brings, the monarch of the seas."

(EMMA LAUGHS)

"Thy ready wit the word
will soon supply." Oh, dear,

I can't decipher.

Well, well, look here.
"The wealth and pomp of kings."

"Kings", what does that suggest?

Perhaps court?
"The monarch of the seas."

"Seas"?

Maybe a ship?

Ship?

Court?

Ship-court! Is that it?

T... Try again.

What might "ship" and "court"
signify?

(TUTS)

No.

Courtship!

Courtship. See here, and here.

Oh, Miss Woodhouse.

I can hardly believe it!

Well, you had better try.

I hope to see you settled
in the vicarage by the spring!

Father, why do you not wait inside?

They said they would set out
with plenty of time.

You know your sister
as well as I do, Emma.

They're late, something's happened!

Nothing has happened. It takes a good
while to gather up five children

and their luggage
for a Christmas trip.

Do you think, er, Miss Smith
is going down with something?

I mean, I heard her sneeze...
in the corridor.

Baby Emma will arrive soon.

We can't have
the house full of disease.

Please don't tell me
you invited her to come to dinner

on their first night? Hmm.
It's bad enough having Knightley.

Father, you forget.

Mr Knightley might have insisted
that they all stay at Donwell.

He might not come, for I fear
he has not forgiven me yet.

Forgiven you? What an earth for?

(HORSES APPROACH)

MR WOODHOUSE: Ahh.

(EXCITED CHATTER)

(CHILDREN LAUGH)

Run! Hurry up!

Sssh, sssh, sssh! John!
You should be in bed. You too, Bella.

Yes, come along, children.
We must all do as your aunt says.

Can we play again tomorrow,
Uncle George?

Quietly now. Right, Henry.
And don't be late for dinner.

- You know what your grandpa will say.
- Can we, Uncle George, please?

You look pale, Henry.

It's a great a pity that
you went to the sea

in the autumn
and did not come here.

ISABELLA: But why should
you think so, Papa?

(WHISPERS) Mr Knightley... Mr Knightley,
can I have the salt, please?

And if you had to go to the sea and
not come here

where the air is purest -
Dr Perry agrees -

then you should have chosen
Cromer rather than Southend.

It is an unhealthy place.

(COUGHING)

Excuse me.

Dr Wingfield...

Is a London doctor, and we all know

London is the unhealthiest
place of all to live in.

Brunswick Square has
the clearest air in the capital.

Dr Wingfield has said so.
It has been scientifically proven.

And he recommended the sea air
for all the children!

Come, come,
don't let's talk about the seaside.

You know I have never been there.

It makes me so miserable and envious

to think you have seen the sea
and your poor old aunt has not!

Dr Perry was a week at Cromer

and said it was the best sea-bathing
place of all, if you must go.

But Cromer is so very
much farther than Southend.

- 100 miles instead of 40.
- But where health is at stake,

this is what Perry said. He said
it seems best not to go at all.

Dr Perry would do well
to keep his opinions to himself!

Why is it any of his business
where I take my family on holiday?

If Dr Perry can tell me how to
convey a wife and five children

a distance of 130 miles

with no greater expense
or inconvenience than 40...

Ooh, John, do you remember
the re-routing of the path into Highbury?

Well, an added advantage is that
it takes us very near to Randalls.

We could walk there tomorrow,
visit the new Mrs Weston.

Oh, poor Miss Taylor.
We hardly ever see her now!

Father! We have only missed seeing
them one day since they were married!

(BABY GURGLES)

If only we could resolve our quarrels

as well as we resolve
those disputes within our family,

we could be friends again.

If only you were as sensible
with those outside the family

and not subject them to your fancy,
we would never disagree.

Ah, of course,
and I am always in the wrong.

Well, I was your considerable
superior in years

when you were
the age of little Emma here.

And I am sure that you were by far
my superior in judgement when I was.

But surely we have grown closer
in judgement as the years have passed?

Well, I had the advantage
of not being a pretty woman

and a spoilt child.

Come, let's be friends, hmm?
And say no more about it.

Tell your aunt, little Emma,
not to renew old grievances.

Very true, little one.

Grow up to be
a far better woman than your aunt.

Be infinitely cleverer
and not so conceited.

But I must ask one more thing.

As far as good intentions go,
we were both right.

I cannot claim to be sorry
that Harriet took my advice.

But I would like to know that
Mr Martin

is not so very
bitterly disappointed.

I cannot satisfy you there.

MR KNIGHTLEY: I've never seen
a man more disappointed.

EMMA: I wonder if we have time
to have you a new dress made

for the Westons' Christmas party.

You must look demure,
but at the same time alluring.

(SHE SNEEZES)

Oh, dear,

you definitely can't go
looking like that.

Mr Elton will have to wait.

Don't despair.

You may not be able to go to
the Westons' dinner party,

but we can still make this
a good test of Mr Elton's regard.

(SNEEZES LOUDLY)

Good morning, Mr Elton.

Oh, good morning.
Miss Woodhouse, Mr Knightley.

I am afraid that Harriet
is not with us

as she is
confined to bed with a cold.

Oh, I... I am sorry to hear
your news about Miss Smith,

but I am sure
your family is of much comfort.

What is that you say
about my children?

Why is it all men feel they may
freely comment on my family, hmm?

I, er... I merely was complimenting
Miss Woodhouse

on a fine collection of nephews.
Very fine indeed.

Do you all go to the
Westons' tomorrow night?

Oh, yes,
even Father has been persuaded.

But you will not wish to go,
Mr Elton, as Harriet is so very ill.

I am very much
looking forward to it!

Though, being a poor bachelor,

I, well, I cannot afford a carriage,
and if it should snow...

Oh, we are taking
two carriages for safety.

Come with us in ours, if you please.

Oh, well, that is
very generous of you.

Good day to you both.

JOHN: James, Henry, come on.

MR WOODHOUSE: Come on, let's get going.
We don't want to be late.

JOHN: It's definitely going to snow.

Let's be optimistic.

I've never known Father
so keen to go out to dinner.

Huh!

If you had not offered Mr Elton
our carriage,

we'd be there
and home again much quicker.

How could I do otherwise,

when your manner towards
him is so encouraging?

Me?

My manner? What an idea?!

Yes, you.

I thought it remarkable how
he seemed to want your attention.

What a ridiculous thing to say!

Me? He's interested in Harriet Smith.

(LAUGHS)

I'm never wrong about these things.

I assure you, Mr Elton and I

are merely very
good friends and nothing more.

Simply an observation.

You might do well to reconsider
your behaviour towards him.

Oh, here we are at the vicarage!

Good evening, one and all.

What an excellent idea, the use of
sheepskin for carriages in winter!

How very cosy we all are!

I enquired about Harriet this
evening and was told she was worse.

I don't know when I have ever looked
forward to an evening out more!

I know it will snow tonight.

The folly of it!

Here we are, with probably thinner
clothing than usual,

heading for, voluntarily,
in defiance of nature,

to spend five dull hours
in another man's home

with nothing to say or hear that
was not said or heard yesterday.

I wish you would learn to arrive at
a dinner party in the correct manner.

- Why can't you bring a coach?
- Because there is no need.

I was on the point of walking,

but Bessie here wanted an
outing, didn't you, Bessie?

A gentleman should arrive
in a coach and horses.

If the Coles, who are traders,
can keep a coach,

then the master of
Donwell Abbey should be equal to it!

- What, are the Coles coming?
- No, of course they aren't!

- I'm ashamed to arrive with you.
- Oh, don't be ridiculous, Emma.

But you don't arrive with me.

Mr Elton is waiting to
attend to you. Look.

- A gentleman...
- This gentleman

likes to be able to leave a place
when he wishes

without sending
for horses a day in advance,

before he goes forth
into the cold air.

He likes to be able to stride out
into the world as he wishes

and go home again
when he chooses.

Ahem.

...Anxiety about the journey,
but now he's here, he's happy.

Ah, ah, ah, careful there!

Miss Woodhouse's cloak
must not be crushed.

Ooh, Mr Weston.

- Emma, my dear.
- Mr Weston.

Mr Elton.

Please tell me, any news of Frank?
Is he coming tonight?

Well, er, my son... Mr Knightley.

...though tied to his aunt,
is a bit of a traveller, like myself,

- and only the other day...
- Do you, erm,

do you think your father
is quite comfortable in that chair?

Yes, I am sure he is.

The Westons always take such care.

I imagine there has already been
considerable discussion

as to the exact placement
of his chair.

Maybe you should ask him?

Oh, yes, bit of a traveller.

You see, Frank is quite impetuous,
like his father.

He's always dashing off on his
black stallion whenever he can.

Only the other day we heard
that he was on his way here.

He'd got as far as Burford,
and what do you think happened?

Oh, how tantalising! What happened?

Miss Woodhouse. Miss Woodhouse?

Allow me to fetch you a drink,

if you would be so good
as to sit over here.

Oh, erm,

no, thank you, Mr Elton.

I do not need anything at the moment.

...So that was the end of it,

and why we're still waiting.

If you'll excuse me, I must
see how dinner is progressing.

Mrs Knightley.

Well, isn't this lovely?

Ah, Mr Elton, sit here.

- And Isabella.
- Thank you, Mr Weston.

Next to Mr Elton.

Miss Woodhouse.

Emma, my dear, next to us.

Mrs Knightley...

We only needed two more settings
to be the perfect number.

Your little Miss Smith,
and my son, Frank.

I do hope you do not
feel offended, my dear.

One day you two shall meet.

Ahem!

Such a pity. Did you hear, Emma?

Frank told his father that one day
he saddled up his horse,

a great black beast,
and set off for Highbury,

only to be met at the
coaching station by a letter

saying his aunt had fallen ill
once more, so he had to turn back.

Do not worry on my account.

As I have waited eagerly to meet him
for nearly 20 years,

a few more weeks
will not be too difficult to bear.

(LAUGHTER)

I think to set off like that
impulsively, recklessly even,

to risk disobeying his aunt in order
to do a duty to his father

shows a fineness of spirit
in Mr Churchill,

a keenness of feeling,
a most romantic nature,

and a thoroughly good heart.

- It's the horse I'm sorry for.
- (LAUGHS)

For my part, it only makes

my anticipation of meeting
this young man even stronger.

Any woman would respond to such
heroic, gentlemanly impulses.

I thought gentlemen
always rode in carriages.

Ahem!

I cannot think of Frank Churchill
without the greatest compassion.

His aunt seems to have a sixth sense
whenever he gives his attention

to anyone else but her and calls
his conscience home again.

She keeps him like a dog on a lead.

I hope that you are
talking of Miss Smith's cold?

(SIGHS)

- We are all aware of the danger.
- Oh, yes, we are all very concerned.

Maybe you wish to leave soon,

so that you can find out
the latest news of her condition?

I hope that you, like myself,
have been urging Miss Woodhouse

not to go within half a mile of
Goddard's,

when there is the
chance of catching an infection.

Miss Woodhouse's health
is paramount.

So concerned for others!
And will she take care of herself?

Is this fair, Mrs Weston?

Have I not the right to complain?

I knew it!
It's snowing and falling heavily.

I did admire your spirit,
sir, in venturing out,

but now do you see where we are?!

I saw a few flakes earlier,

but I thought if I said anything
Mr Woodhouse would go.

Don't panic, Father.

- I can't stay.
- No, no, no, no,

- we will find a way to make it.
- We must go immediately.

- May I be of assistance?
- No, everything's fine, thank you.

If we get stuck in
a ditch, I can walk.

- In those shoes? I don't think so.
- But you must all stay here!

We have plenty of room. Stay
for the whole of Christmas, if you please.

I cannot stay.

Oh, dear.
I'm afraid we only have two guest rooms.

I will call Mr Knightley.

Calm yourself, my dear.

I've just been down
the Highbury Road.

The snow is not above
half an inch anywhere.

There's no danger of anyone
being marooned here by the snow.

Oh, I'm so pleased.

Now, your father will not
be easy. Why don't you go?

I am ready, if the others are.

Shall I ring for the coaches?

ISABELLA: We must go
as soon as possible, please.

I must get my hat and my scarf,
wrap up.

- Bye!
- It's been a lovely evening, everybody.

(WESTON) It's very good to see you.
Safe journey home and merry Christmas,

merry Christmas to you all.

John! This, this is our carriage.

That's all right, isn't it?

I'll, er, calm your father
and Mr Elton can escort you.

- John, John!
- Yes, yes, my darling.

Here, take this.

Your carriage... awaits.

There you are, John.

Ah...

how brightly they shine.

How fortunate that we are alone.

It, um,

must be written in the stars!

Miss Woodhouse,

make me the happiest man
in the world.

I adore you. Of course,
it will not be a surprise.

I will die if you refuse me.

Mr Elton, stop this at once!
You have obviously been drinking.

Might I remind you of your
attachment to Miss Smith?

Um, what are you talking about?

I speak of your regard for
Miss Smith this last month,

your visits to Hartfield.

And now you profess your love for me?

What fickleness of character!
I am astonished.

But I have never paid
the slightest attention to Miss Smith,

except as your friend.

For herself, I couldn't care less
if she lives or dies.

- Oh!
- No, no, no.

Everything I have done
over the past few weeks is to show my...

my marked adoration for you.

Surely that was... obvious?

Forgive me for being a, er,
a novice, in the ways of love,

for, of course, you will modestly
pretend to refuse me the first time.

Let go of my hand, sir!
And sit over there!

Am I to understand that you...
you never preferred Miss Smith?

Never, madam!

Miss Smith is a good sort of girl

and no doubt there will
be some who can overlook

the, er, circumstance of her birth.

But I think that I do not
have to stoop to her level.

No, my hopes were all
entirely for you.

Led, I might say, by the marked
encouragement that you gave me.

You are mistaken, sir.

I only thought of you
as a suitor for my friend.

I am sorry that you are mistaken, but
I never gave you any encouragement.

I have no thoughts of matrimony...

at the present.

This is your fault, Emma.

Was he really admiring my talent
rather than Harriet's form?

KNIGHTLEY: Elton will not do.

He knows he is a very handsome young
man and will never marry cheaply.

How could I have been so stupid?

How am I going to tell Harriet?

(CHILDREN LAUGHING)

- All right, Henry.
- Go!

Duck! Oh!

This is how we used to play,
do you remember?

Oh, yes, we used to load up that
poor nymph, so she was almost buried!

Right, let's show them
how it's done, shall we?

Emma used to be the best
at it, do you remember?

Where is she?

JOHN: Now put that down.

Oh, yes, we got him!
Right on the hat!

MR WOODHOUSE: A very strange letter
from Mr Elton,

saying he is sorry,
but he cannot visit me

and there's no mention of you,
my dear Emma.

But I am not aware of having
invited him over Christmas.

Did you, my dear?

He says that when the snow is cleared,
he is going to visit Bath.

His friends have begged
him for his company.

Your turn.

Come in.

Oh, Miss Woodhouse,
how kind of you to come.

I know your time with
the family is so precious.

How extremely thoughtful of you.

I have something small in return,
it's just a trifle.

Why, Miss Woodhouse...

what's the matter?

Is someone ill?

I understand.

It is only natural that... that it
should've been you, Miss Woodhouse...

...that he preferred.

I never could have deserved him.

It's only because you are so good
a friend that you thought it possible.

It is all my fault,

and I bitterly regret the pain
that I have caused.

No, you must not take any blame.

You are all goodness
and he is so very far above me.

It was foolish and...

and conceited of me to,

to raise my sights to him.

It was you that he asked to marry.

Maybe you would change your mind
on matrimony?

Certainly not!
I would not change my mind,

especially for someone as...

There is no blame attached
to anyone but myself.

He will regret his decision,

for you are a far better person
than I could ever be.

I do try so hard to forget
about Mr Elton,

but he is such a superior example
of manhood.

That verse he wrote was
so very fine and noble,

even though it was for you.

"Ready wit" - you see, of course
he could never have meant me!

Oh, look,
a lovely new window display.

Oh, I believe
those are very like the gloves

Mr Elton chose for last winter,

just as it turned colder.

The brown with rabbit fur,
and so elegant.

I wonder if Miss Bates is at home?

Miss Bates!
I know that it is Thursday

and therefore no possibility
of hearing any news of Jane,

but do you have any news
of Miss Fairfax?

How very kind, Miss Woodhouse, but
something most unusual has happened.

What a surprise she gave us.

No sooner did her letter
arrive than she did!

Miss Fairfax!

I'm so pleased to see you again.
Let me introduce Harriet Smith.

Oh, please, do sit down.

Jane was invited to go to Ireland
with the Campbells

to visit their daughter
and her betrothed, Mr Dixon.

You and Miss Campbell are
like sisters almost.

Oh, yes. Ever since Jane left the vicarage
to live with Captain Campbell.

Like her parents, she is kindness itself,
she is elegant and gracious,

even if she is not
as handsome as Jane.

Aunt!

Oh, I'm sorry, my dear,
but it is the truth.

I believe your friend Mr Dixon
has a lovely estate in Ireland?

Oh, yes, it's quite beautiful,
Jane says.

But she has
decided to come here instead.

Jane says Ireland
is so very beautiful.

Mr Dixon has told Jane that...

What is the matter now, my dear?

I was merely about to point out,
that as I am in the room,

it is not necessary to recount
every detail of my letters.

Well, here...

The passage, if I remember...

Let's see.

I'm sure that...

Ah, here...

"On our many pleasant walks,"

"Mr Dixon talks of his family home
with delicate affection and regard.

"Colonel and Mrs Campbell were very
particular about their daughter

"not being alone with Mr Dixon,

"so Jane was their chaperone

"and with them always and
all was right and proper."

You must feel very fortunate that
the Campbells have allowed you home?

The Campbells have always treated
me with love and generosity.

Indeed, they wanted to take her
everywhere with them.

They are disappointed
she cannot go to Galway.

Mr Dixon in particular!

Mr Dixon?

Oh, yes. He especially,
ever since the service he did Jane

- when they were in Weymouth.
- Aunt!

Jane, dear, you may wish to,
but I cannot forget.

We owe Mr Dixon your life!

He saved your life?

How romantic! Who saved your life?

It was nothing.

Nothing, indeed!

Mr Dixon saved her life.

It was in Weymouth last summer,

Jane and Mr Dixon were out walking
with a party of Mr Dixon

and Miss Campbell's dearest friends,

when Jane slipped on a stone and
Mr Dixon stepped in

and saved
her from almost certain death!

Ever since that moment,
Miss Campbell's betrothed

has been a favourite in this house.

It was nothing.
I, I was in no danger.

Jane hates fuss so much,

she forbade me to write and thank him
for his great service to us.

We do not wish Mr Dixon
to think you ungrateful.

He would not think that.

I mean,
he would not think of me at all.

I wonder why the wonderful
Miss Fairfax

should be so reluctant to acknowledge
Mr Dixon's saving her life.

I believe she is even more
reserved than I remember,

so secretive and unforthcoming.

And why would she move home
to Miss Bates' tiny little cottage

when she could go to Ireland

to Mr Dixon's
no doubt boundlessly beautiful estate?

Unless there was another reason
why she could not or would not?

Oh, what was that you said,
Miss Woodhouse?

Excuse me, sir!

You seem lost, sir.

I am not lost.

Oh, forgive me for thinking
you must be a stranger

and do not know your way.
You seemed...

- undecided as to where you were going.
- (LAUGHS)

- May I help you in the right direction?
- You know this area?

I've lived here all my life. I think
you will find me quite accurate.

(CHUCKLES) I'm sure I would.

But I have no need
of your direction.

I know exactly where I am.

Thank you for your trouble,
all the same.

(WHISPERS) She does look a little subdued.

Are you really quite sure
she is not ill with something?

No, she is not ill,

she is a little unhappy.

Harriet, dear,
would you like a little tea?

And cook has made some
very pleasant biscuits.

(DOOR OPENS)

I wondered
if you had heard the news?

Oh, good. News.
We are in need of entertaining.

Well, I just, er... I just wanted
to say that I was glad to hear

that you have made time
to visit Jane Fairfax.

It was the right thing to do.

That is hardly news!

Oh, my dear Miss Woodhouse!

Thank you so much for the pork,
such a beautiful hindquarter!

Have you heard the news?
Mr Elton is to be married.

(HARRIET GASPS)

Oh, what an emotional girl!
We are all so happy for him!

He has been in Bath these
four weeks only, and he is engaged!

So very sudden...
but then where love is concerned.

I am so pleased
that you liked the pork.

We rear the pigs with great care
here at Hartfield.

Oh, marvellous taste, I am sure.

What a tender heart she has
to be so pleased for Mr Elton.

Mother loves
the hind of pig, best of all.

Her name is Miss Augusta Hawkins
and she is worth £20,000!

- (HARRIET SOBS)
- Did you know, Mr Knightley?

I am usually the last
to discover glad tidings.

What about you, Miss Woodhouse?

I knew it!

I knew Miss Woodhouse would
know all about this,

she who is so very wise

and reads the workings
of the human heart so well.

Of course she would know.

I'm sure I would always be
the last to know

about matters
of a romantic nature.

I wonder when
the marriage will take place.

Well, we have only heard the first
information of the engagement...

ANNE: Miss Bates does not mean any harm.

EMMA: Oh, I know,

and that being so, it is
alarming how often she hits the mark.

I had genuinely thought Mr Elton
a good match for Harriet.

And, Anne, I really do think

her liaison with Robert Martin
is not right for her.

I am sorry for it.

It is difficult to judge
how to give others

the benefit of our wisdom

- and insight.
- Oh, yes, I know, yes.

You were right, I was wrong...
in part.

But next time, if there is to be one,
I will do better.

Have you told her our news?

Frank is coming home tomorrow!

Are you sure?

I was beginning to wonder
if Frank actually exists,

he so often does not arrive
when he is heralded.

(EMMA LAUGHS)

I don't know why everyone always
assumes that Frank will not come.

I see no reason to suppose
he takes pleasure in dashing my hopes.

Oh, erm... the fact is,

I am so keen to see him that
I cannot contain my disappointment

when the duty he owes to his aunt

means he has no choice
but to stay by her side.

It is a great credit to you that he
is so... so sensitive and gentlemanly.

It is not something
that can be taught.

Innate good manners
could only come from such a father.

Now, Miss Emma,
I will make you a wager.

I will bring Frank to Hartfield

tomorrow afternoon
at four o'clock precisely,

and you will see for yourself,
once and for all,

that he is flesh and blood.

(CHIMING)

(MUFFLED VOICES)

MAN: I have travelled straight here.

Ahem!

- Ah, Emma! There you are!
- Miss Woodhouse.

May I present my son,
Mr Frank Churchill.

Oh...

...you have found
your way to us at last!

I've heard so much about you,
it is almost as if we had already met.

Ah, yes.
Um, it's the strangest thing.

Once I was at last at liberty
to visit,

well, I found my path
here like... like an arrow from a bow.

I am obliged to you, Miss Woodhouse.

Er, I have many times set off,
determined to visit my father

but on the way my... my conscience
forced my return to my aunt,

who really is very ill.

And last week I almost made it
to Randalls when I realised,

so short a visit as I could manage

would be even more hurtful
and disrespectful

to the new Mrs Weston
than no visit at all.

And I would not hurt
his feelings for the world.

Nor I.

I was saying to your father
what a good pair you make.

I told Frank you would
be his guide to Highbury.

That would be splendid.
I do not know it well at all,

and, of course, I know no-one
here except my... my dear father.

Although there is a family
I must visit here.

- It's a... a Miss Baines, is it?
- Miss Bates?

- Bates, yes.
- My goodness, why?

Well, I met her niece, Jane Fairfax,
in Weymouth.

Yes, I told Frank that though
he will have seen Jane

amongst equals in Weymouth,

here her family are in
reduced circumstances

and it is important he show respect.

- Weymouth?
- Mmm.

They seem to
be getting along very well.

So you are acquainted
with the Campbells.

Did you see the incident?

(WHISPERS) Did not Mr Dixon
save Jane Fairfax's life?

Oh, er, yes, yes,
it was the talk of the town.

- She said it was nothing.
- Oh, did she indeed?

Well, all I can say is
he acted very quickly.

He was, of course,
standing very close to her.

Have you ever been to Weymouth,
Miss Woodhouse?

Er, no.

I have never travelled
outside of Highbury.

But, er, you are so assured,
so sophisticated.

- No, I-I felt sure you had.
- No.

Highbury has everything I need.
I never want to travel.

Oh, dear, no,
Emma has no need to travel anywhere.

Indeed so, sir.

Goose eggs! Goose eggs!

Is that an Irish breed?

Mrs Weston... Miss Woodhouse.

My duty to Miss Bates is done.

I meant to stay for only ten minutes,
but the good lady kept on talking.

I was there for three-quarters
of an hour

before I saw you
and made my escape.

How did you find Miss Fairfax?

Ill, I thought, very ill.
Oh, and so reserved.

You have heard talk
of her situation, of course?

What do you mean? Well,
if she must leave the Campbells,

she will have to look
for a position as a governess.

You must forgive me for gossiping!

I've spent my whole childhood hearing
her virtues sung from the tree tops.

We are poles apart.

She is so reserved.

It's not a very attractive quality,
to be sure.

One could never love
a reserved person.

Oh, I take it you approve as much
as me of my father's new wife?

I expected a woman
of taste and judgement,

but never one so young and pretty.

Ah, now that is a subject

you would find me happy
to talk about for hours.

Has there been any post, Father?

Not this morning, my dear.
Why do you ask?

No reason.

Mr Churchill told me
that the Coles are to celebrate

their new improvements with a party.

Indeed he has persuaded
them to have music.

Well, why should that bother you?

You would never dream of accepting
an invitation from the Coles.

It is true that the Coles are in trade
and are of low origin,

and I would never dream
of accepting an invitation.

So what's the problem?

Oh, I see. You haven't had
an invitation yet, have you?

The Coles would never invite us,
or you, or the Westons.

- We are too superior.
- Oh, I've had mine.

Really?!

Mmm, pretty sure
the Westons have, too.

The wonderful Mr Churchill
was the architect of the plan, after all.

Well, I think it very
uncivil of the Coles.

You just said
it would be rude of them to ask.

- Yes, but...
- But you wish to be able to refuse them

in the manner
in which you are accustomed.

Anyway, surprised to find you
in today.

Why?

You're usually out and about
nowadays whenever I visit.

Always in the company
of the prodigal son(!)

Mr Knightley, it does not
become you to be sarcastic.

I do take pleasure in
Frank Churchill's company,

as anyone but the sourest
of personalities would,

but today
he is out of town for the morning.

He doesn't come here for 20 years
and then he disappears for a day?

He has urgent business.

He has gone to London
to have his hair cut.

His hair cut. Of course,
imperative business indeed(!)

It is an invitation from the Coles.

They did not like to ask us before

for they were anxious to first
acquire a screen for the fire

so that Father might be at ease.

That is the kind of thoughtful,
unpretentious people that they are.

But, of course,
you must refuse them at once.

What are you waiting for?

Well, as so many of my friends
will be there,

and as Mr Churchill
is organising the music...

(MUSIC ON SOUNDTRACK DROWNS
GREETINGS)

I see you have overcome
your prejudice against the Coles.

Well, they were so very civil,

and I am not so proud that
I cannot admit to changing my mind.

Anyway, you are not so proud
that you cannot take my advice.

The coach.

It is the arrival of a gentleman...
at last.

I am happy to enter the room
with you for once.

Nonsensical girl!

Miss Woodhouse! We are in need
of assistance that only you can give!

Well, I must say,
it is a fine haircut.

Though I'm not sure why he needed to go
all the way to London and back for it.

Oh, Miss Woodhouse,
thank you so much for coming.

We are so honoured to invite you
into our home.

- I hope you will enjoy the evening.
- I'm sure I shall. Thank you.

MRS COLE: Well, I was on my way in to town
to buy a new pair of gloves.

My old ones had got a little stretched.

Well, it was the most extraordinary thing.

I called on Miss Bates,
and what should I see

but the most enormous pianoforte
addressed to Jane Fairfax?

It is a very elegant instrument,
but so large.

Jane was quite at a loss as to who
might have sent her this magnificent gift.

- Well, who would have sent it?
- Jane has no idea.

Well, it must be Colonel Campbell, surely.

She said he wrote recently
and did not mention the gift.

It is a mystery!

(THEY LAUGH)

- Excuse me.
- Excuse me.

Why are you smiling?

Why are you?

I am happy that Colonel Campbell
has sent Jane such a generous gift.

- Hmm.
- You look sceptical.

Do you have another candidate?

I seem to remember Mr Dixon thought
Miss Fairfax unsurpassed at the piano.

Indeed!
And how did Miss Campbell take that?

Poor Miss Campbell.

Imagine the misery of always having
one's particular friend at hand

to do everything
so much better than oneself.

(SIGHS)

CHURCHILL: Surely it must be
Colonel Campbell, hmm?

But why would Colonel Campbell
do so in secret?

Why would he risk her reputation?

A gentleman would never risk
a lady's reputation.

Unless, of course,
he was most ardently in love.

MRS COLE: Of course.

Er... Miss Woodhouse, please...

...would you do us the honour of playing?

# Oh, where, tell me,
where is your Highland laddie gone?

# Oh, where, tell me,
where is your Highland laddie gone?

# He's gone with streams of banners
where noble deeds are done

#And my sad heart will tremble
till he comes safely home

# Oh, where, tell me,
where did your Highland laddie stay?

# Oh, where, tell me,
where did your Highland laddie stay?

# He dwelt beneath the holly bush
beside the rushing Spey

# Where your blessing followed him
the night he went away

# He dwelt beneath the holly bush
beside the rushing Spey

#And many a blessing followed him
the night he went away. #

Miss Fairfax, would you, er...
would you honour us with a brief tune?

Please, I insist, please.

(# BEETHOVEN: "Waldstein" Sonata)

She is so very much
a better player than I am.

(WHISPERS) Tell me, my dear,

can you guess how Miss Bates
and Jane Fairfax arrived here today?

Well, they walked, surely.

And so I thought.
It struck me that Jane is not well

and would appreciate a ride home,
so I offered her our carriage.

She thanked me, but said that Mr Knightley

had sent his carriage to fetch them
and would take them home.

I think he only brought his carriage
for that purpose alone.

That is just what he would do.
And he never said a word to me.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I have persuaded Miss Fairfax
to perform three lovely ballads for us.

- Mr Churchill, please, one.
- Surely she can't play all those.

You will tire her out
with all this playing.

Oh, I assure you, Miss Fairfax is...

Indeed, I have been thinking
that our Mr Knightley

might just have turned his mind
to matrimony at last.

- Miss Woodhouse...
- I have no doubt that she is equal to it.

Oh, no, you are mistaken!

Mr Knightley will never marry!

You could not be more wrong!
Donwell will go to my little nephew Henry.

Imagine Miss Bates,

at Donwell, haunting the place

and thanking him every day
for his kindness in marrying Jane!

He could not bear it!

Don't be unkind, Emma.
Miss Cole also sees a marked interest.

She and I think we have solved
the mystery of the pianoforte.

And Knightley has often said
that Jane deserves a better instrument.

Now you talk complete nonsense!
He would never do anything in secret.

(SHE PLAYS IN A MINOR KEY)

He has always spoken very well of her...

...and he is so very anxious
for her health.

(JANE SINGS)

#... May he strut about
with his whiskers curled

# Keep a hundred wives
under lock and key

#And nobody else but himself to see

# Yet long may he pray
with his Al Koran

# Before he can love
like an Irishman... #

A gentleman would never risk
a lady's reputation.

Unless, of course,
he was most ardently in love.