All language subtitles for P&P.1980.E04

Mr. Darcy proposed?

You are astonished,
so was I.

Only astonished
for a little.

It would
be natural, after all,
for anyone to admire you.

Oh, poor Mr. Darcy.

Poor Mr. Darcy?

Well, you're refusal
must have made him
very unhappy.

I'm heartily
sorry for him, Jane,

if that will make you
feel any better.

But I am ashamed
to have taken

George Wickham's part
against him.

There is only enough merit
between the two of them

to make one good man.

Of late it's been
shifting about pretty much.

For my part,
I'm inclined to believe

the merit is
all Mr. Darcy's.

But you may do
as you choose.

I cannot believe Mr. Wickham
is lost to all goodness,

but to have planned to elope
with miss Darcy?

Jane, I want
your advice.

I want to know
whether I ought to make
our acquaintances aware

of George Wickham's
character.

Surely there can be
no occasion for exposing him
so dreadfully.

What is your opinion?

It ought not
to be attempted.

Mr. Darcy has not
authorized me to make
his communication public.

On the contrary,
all to do with his sister

was meant
to be kept to myself.

Mr. Wickham
will soon be gone

and there's an end
to him and it.

At present I will say
nothing about it to anyone.

Lizzy, I suppose
the Collinses lived
very comfortably, did they?

What sort of table
do they keep?

If Charlotte is half
as sharp as her mother
she's saving enough.

Nothing extravagant
in their housekeeping,
I daresay.

No, mother,
nothing at all.

Oh, they will take care
not to outrun their income.

They will never be
distressed for money.

I suppose they often speak
of having Longbourn when
your father is gone.

It was a subject which
they could not mention
before me.

Well, if they can be easy
in an estate that's not
lawfully their own,

so much the better.

How you do
chatter and delay.

I could almost believe
you have no interest
in what is going on

- and don't want
to walk to Meryton.
- No, I do not!

You know what
people will say.

The Bennet girls can be home
not half a day before they're
in pursuit of officers.

Lizzy's been in such a passion
since she came back
from Charlotte's.

Aunt Philips says she had better
have taken Mr. Collins
while she could.

But I do not think
there would have been
any fun in that.

Do you like
my bonnet, Lizzy?
I don't.

Kitty, what do you
think of my bonnet?

I think it is ugly.

If I buy so pretty
a color of satin

and trim it with fresh,
I think it will be
very tolerable.

But it does not
signify what one wears
this summer

for the regiment
is going to Brighton.

If only father
would take us there.

He is far too
disagreeable
for that.

Jane, do you
like my bonnet?

Jane, you will be
an old maid soon,
I declare,

nearly three and twenty.

I suppose you are
still brokenhearted
after Mr. Bingley.

Lord, how alarmed
I would be not to be married
before three and twenty.

I should like to be married
before any of you.

Then I could chaperone
you about to all the balls.

Come along, everybody.

Wickham so very bad?

It almost past belief.

Oh, and poor Mr. Darcy.

Only consider what he
must have suffered,
Lizzy-

the knowledge
of your ill opinion.

If you lament over him
much longer my heart will be
as lax as a feather.

But how I shall miss
disliking him.

I had meant to be
so uncommonly clever
in doing so,

without any reason.

It is such a spur
to one's genius,

such an opening for wit,
to have a dislike of that kind.

One may be continually allusive
without ever saying
anything just,

but one cannot always
be laughing at a man

without stumbling
on something witty.

How can you treat
the matter so?

I'm uncomfortable enough,
I'm even unhappy.

Mr. Darcy did not speak
of myself and Mr. Bingley?

No.

I suppose his mind
had been full of you

and only you, Elizabeth.

Oh, poor Mr. Darcy.

Lizzy?

Yes, mother?

What is your opinion
of this sad business
of Jane's?

Well, for my part
I never speak of it,

as I told my sister Philips
the other day.

But I cannot find out
if she saw anything
of him in London.

Well, Mr. Bingley is a very
undeserving young man.

My comfort is
I'm sure she will die
of a broken heart

and then he'll be sorry
for what he's done.

Oh, and the regiment
is going away,

and your father will not take
the girls to Brighton no matter
how much they cry.

I remember
five and twenty years ago

when colonel Miller's
regiment went away,

and I cried
for two days together.

I thought I should
have broke my heart.

Good heavens,
what is to become
of us?

What are we to do?

My heart will break.

I shall die
of boredom.

If we could
but go to Brighton...

Papa is so
disagreeable.

Lord, I have not slept
for a week.

Mama must
have a party
for the officers

- no matter what
papa says.
- Yes.

- Elizabeth?
- Yes, father?

I want to speak
with you.

Sit down, Elizabeth.

Mrs. forster,
young Mrs. forster,

wife of the
unfortunate colonel,

wishes Lydia to accompany her
with the regiment to Brighton.

And the house would be
a good deal quieter
if she went.

They are only
recently acquainted.

It is an acquaintance
of three months,
Lizzy,

and three months these days
passes for eternity.

Do not let her go, father,
she is so impetuous.

And the temptations of Brighton
must be greater than home.

Lydia will never be easy
until she has shown herself
in some public place or other,

and we can never
expect her to do it
with so little expense

or inconvenience
to the family as with
colonel and Mrs. forster

with the regiment
in Brighton.

Father, Lydia's behavior is
already a great disadvantage
to us all,

her manner being
so imprudent.

If you only knew the trouble
that had already risen from it.

What?
Has she frightened away
some of your lovers?

Poor little Lizzy.

But do not be downcast,

such squeamish youths
as cannot bear
to be acquainted

with a little absurdity
are not worth the regret.

Absurdity, father?

To be vain, ignorant,
idle and absolutely
uncontrolled,

without any attraction
beyond youth and a tolerable
person,

her spirits
are exuberant,
father.

And if you do not take
the trouble to cure them

she soon will be past curing.
Her character will be fixed.

And she will at sixteen
be the most determined flirt

that ever made herself
and her family ridiculous.

And kitty will follow
where Lydia leads,

and we shall all be drawn
into their disgrace.

Sit down, Elizabeth.

We shall have no peace
at Longbourn if Lydia
does not go to Brighton.

Colonel forster
is a sensible man

and will keep her
out of mischief

luckily she is too poor
to be the object of prey
to anyone.

Common flirts are
two a penny in Brighton.

And Lydia will be of less
importance there than here.

And my love,

you and Jane will be
respected and valued
wherever you go

and will not appear
to less advantage
for having a couple of-

or I may say,
three very silly sisters.

Brighton!

I am the luckiest
person in the world.

I see it all
in my mind.

It dazzles with
row upon row of Scarlet,

with row upon row
of regimental tents,

and tens of scores
of admirers.

Lord, I shall have
a hundred beaus.

Each one an officer
upon his knees.

They will all
have to be amiable.

I am a friend
of the colonel's wife.

I am the unluckiest person
in the world.

It is not fair,
I am two years older
than Lydia

and already
I am being left behind.

I have just as much right
to be asked as she has.

I have not eaten
for a week.

I do not think
I shall come down
to the party.

What use is it
to see officers now
who tomorrow will be gone?

It only pains me more.

As for me,

I am happiest
with a book-

but owe it to my mother
to attend her gathering.

I have a piece of news
for you, Lizzy,

if you lend me
your lace.

You may gladly
have my lace

if you will but keep
your news to yourself.

There is no danger
of Wickham's marrying
Mary king.

She has gone
to her Uncle
at liverpool.

Which is just as well,
he never cared three
straws about her.

Who could, about
such a nasty little
freckled thing?

Mr. Wickham has
become very gallant
to you again.

I cannot think why-
you are so old
and serious.

And he is so idle
and frivolous in his gallantry.

He is to be
at the party.

He is father's
favorite officer,

for all he nearly married
miss king.

I shall be pleasant to him
if you do not.

I do not need the lace,
I think I look very well
without it.

I think you should
wear it, Lydia.

I shall be
heartily glad
when tomorrow comes

and the entire regiment
is off to Brighton.

Now what's the matter?

Someone said Brighton.

Oh, and I'm so hungry.

I will come to the party
after all.

Excuse me.

So, you saw much
of Mr. Darcy at Rosings?

I am sorry for you.

I think Mr. Darcy
improves upon acquaintance.

Indeed.
Is it in address
that he improves?

Has he deigned
to add aught of civility
to his ordinary style?

For I dare not hope
that he's improved
in essentials.

In essentials,
I believe he is very much
whatever he wants.

- Would you, uh...
- Thank you.

From knowing him better
I understand him better.

I rejoice
that he wise enough

to assume even the appearance
of what is right.

It must deter him
from such foul conduct

as I have suffered by.

I imagine this
newfound cautiousness

is merely adopted
on his visits to his aunt

of whose good opinion
and judgment

he stands
very much in awe.

Naturally he wishes
by a show of charm

to forward the match
of miss de Bourgh.

Lydia is very
happy tonight?

She goes to Meryton
this evening with Mrs. forster,

and tomorrow sets out
with the regiment,

so there is nothing
to cloud her joy.

Kitty, on the other hand,
does not seem to be
happy at all.

I expect someone
has mentioned Brighton.

Yes, I shall be
glad to go.

I imagine you will be,
Mr. Wickham.

I hear that you are
shortly to go to the lakes
with your aunt Gardiner.

Yes, I too
look forward
to going away.

Oh, a letter.

It is not likely to be
from Mr. Bingley.

Poor Jane.
But I must not
say that

or you will feel
sorry for yourself.

I just prefer him
to every other man,

and I will never
see him again.

I'm sure he
valued you, Jane.

I'm sure of it.

Then, why?

Perhaps it's
from Mr. Darcy...

Oh, I hope not.

Letters from Mr. Darcy
are not altogether agreeable.

...or Charlotte?

Now that would be
agreeable.

She always draws
such a pleasing picture

of conjugal felicity
and domestic comfort

that I'm sure we'd never draw
from our own household.

Oh, Elizabeth!

But father
is a true philosopher.

He derives benefit
from mother's ignorance
and folly,

other enjoyments from her
being lacking.

Elizabeth!

Ah!
I'm sorry.

Hill!

Madam.

Oh, Lizzy,
it is for you.

Why do you get
all the letters,
miss?

It's from your
aunt Gardiner.

Oh, we are
to go to Derbyshire
and not the lakes...

- And have three weeks
instead of four.
- Oh.

Mr. Darcy is
from Derbyshire.

I think Derbyshire
is very large, Jane,

and I do not imagine
the Darcy family

will find much in common
with the gardiners.

So I think I may enter
the county with impunity.

I cannot be blind

to my father's impropriety
of behavior as a husband.

I always see it
with pain.

He exposes
his wife to the contempt
of her own children.

It is so unsuitable
a marriage.

She, of weak understanding
and a liberal mind;

he, captivated at first
by youth and beauty,

and that appearance
of good humor which youth
and beauty generally give,

quickly to lose all respect,
esteem, and confidence,

then to devote
all his many talents
to contempt-

talents which might at least
have preserved

the respectability
of his daughters,

even if incapable
of enlarging the mind
of his wife.

Pemberley is
only a mile or two
out of our route,

shall we go
and see it?

We've been to Oxford,
blenheim, Warwick, Birmingham,

we've seen all the principal
wonders of Derbyshire,

why should we not add
Pemberley to our list?

It is not on our
direct road to lambton
and your friends.

Oh, my love, should you
not like to see a place
of which you've heard so much?

Wickham passed
all his youth there,
you know,

it's the home
of the Darcy family.

We have seen
many great houses.

I confess to being a bit
weary of fine carpets
and satin curtains.

If it were
merely a fine house
richly furnished

I should not
care about it myself,

but the grounds
are delightful.

You know they have some
of the finest woods
in england?

They say that
those who come to view
are made most welcome-

- by whom?
- By the housekeeper,
of course.

You would not expect to find
a Darcy on such an errand.

No, I would not.

We have here
some of the finest
rooms in the country,

and many choose
to view them.

If you will follow me,
I will be of what help
I can.

We are not taking you away
from your work, Mrs. Reynolds?

Of course not.
I shall be delighted.

Well...

Have you ever seen
anything like it,
Lizzy?

It is certainly
better than Rosings.

Here has more
real elegance.

Mr. Darcy himself
is away?

Oh, yes, but we
expect him tomorrow

with a large party
of friends.

Come and look, Lizzy.

It's the likeness
of Mr. Wickham.

How do you like that?

Well enough.

That young gentleman
is son to my late
master's steward.

He was brought up
at the Darcy expense,

but has now gone
into the army,

and I'm afraid
he's turned out
very wild.

And that is my
present master,

and very like.

Is it, Lizzy?

Is he really as handsome
as his likeness?

Does the young lady
know Mr. Darcy?

A little.

Mr. Darcy
is the handsomest,

the most accomplished
young man,

and so good natured.

I have never had
a cross word from Mr. Darcy
in all my life,

and I've known him
ever since he was
four years.

If I was to go
through the world,
I could not meet with a better.

I have observed that they
who are good natured
when they are young

are good natured
when they grow up.

And Mr. Darcy was always
the sweetest tempered,

most generous hearted boy
in all the world.

Mr. Darcy?

Mr. Darcy is the best landlord

and best master
that ever lived.

There is not one of his
servants or tenants

but will give him
a good name.

Some people
call him proud,

but I never saw
anything of it.

To my fancy it is because
he does not rattle away
like other young men,

and so good
to miss Darcy.

Whatever can give
his sister pleasure

is sure to be done
in a moment.

I do not see nearly
so much of them as
I would wish,

they are forever
in London.

If only my master would marry
I might see more of him,

but I do not know
when that will be.

I do not know who
would be good enough
for him.

Brother, landlord, master.

How many people's happiness
are in your guardianship?

How much good or evil
can be done by you?

I'm very thankful
for your regard for me.

How stark you look
in your portrait.

But I remember
your warmth,

and would soften
that look.

You are very quiet,
Elizabeth.

Do you not admire it?

Oh, yes.

I've never seen a place
where nature has done so much,

or where natural beauty
has been so little counteracted

by an awkward taste.

It is all delightful,

and of this place
I might have been mistress.

I could have welcomed here
as guests my Uncle and aunt,

but no...
That could never be.

I should not have been
allowed to invite them.

They would have been
lost to me.

I regret nothing.

...from the time
of the jacobins.

- Later. Later.
- Oh, impossible.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Mr. Darcy.

You are not at Longbourn?

No.

When did you leave?

Uh... ten days ago-
eleven.

I do not know.

I thought you
at Longbourn.

Ooh.

Your family,
they are well?

Yes.

If it were in that reign

the architraves would be
more pronounced.

They would be
less pronounced.

How is one to say
when it comes to it,

whether an architrave
is pronounced or not?

Lizzy, we need
your advice.

I do not think
I can be very sensible.

- What is the matter?
- My coming here-

the most unfortunate,
ill-judged thing
in the world.

In what disgraceful light
will I not appear to him?

Only ten minutes sooner
and it would not
have happened.

- Elizabeth.
- I saw Mr. Darcy.

I spoke with Mr. Darcy.

Oh, is that Mr. Darcy?
He is a very fine figure.

It will seem
as if I had purposely
thrown myself in his way.

I am sure he was
very pleased to see you.

Pain or pleasure,
I cannot tell.

He certainly did not
see me with composure.

The building
was started in 1627.

As to walks, it is ten Miles
to circumscribe the entire park.

I think we should
better confine ourselves
to the accustomed circuit.

It provides a waterfall,
and a Glenn, and a lake,

and a stream-
a stream with trout.

Or perhaps
you're fatigued?

I am not a very
great Walker,
Mr. Gardiner,

but a lake
and a trout stream?

What do you say,
Elizabeth?

- It shall be
as you wish.
- Oh, will you lead on?

Oh, what can it mean?

That he should even
speak to me is amazing.

And to speak
with such civility,

to inquire
about my family,

he has never spoken
with such gentleness.

Oh, the perverseness
of such a meeting.

What must he
think of me?

Perhaps in defiance
of everything

i am still
dear to him?

Oh, at this
very minute,

what is passing
through his mind?

Where is he?

Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy
is following us.

Oh.

It is such
a beautiful place,
Mr. Darcy,

delightful,
charming.

I did not know
you were to be here.

Mrs. Gardiner,
Mr. Gardiner-
Mr. Darcy.

My Uncle and aunt
from Gracechurch street.

You were right to doubt
the reign of Elizabeth.

The central section
was besieged by cromwell's men

and later rebuilt
in the same style

but not to my mind
with any degree
of perfection.

It looks well enough
to the untrained eye
of course.

Perhaps an angler?
A complete angler?

Mr. walton's book
is my Bible.

While you continue
in the neighborhood, you must
do all the fishing you can.

I can supply you
with any tackle
you may need.

Mrs. Gardiner,
you are not fatigued?

Seeing Pemberley
is a hard business.

But perhaps your niece
takes after you.

No weather or no walk
is too much for her.

We have a large party here,
just arrived, miss Eliza,

what good fortune.

I came ahead.

You will be pleased
to renew old acquaintance

with Mr. Bingley
and his sisters,
and Mr. hearst.

And there is one other
member of our party

who will more particularly wish
to be known to you.

Will you allow me,
or do I ask too much,

to introduce my sister
to your acquaintance?

Miss Darcy?
I should be pleased.

I have spoken much
of you to her, miss Eliza.

You will all wait upon us,
I hope, during your stay
at lambton?

- Perhaps tomorrow?
- You are very kind.

It is not kindness,
it is a pleasure.

He is perfectly
well behaved,

polite,
unassuming.

There is something
stately in him to be sure,

but it is confined
to his air and is not
unbecoming.

He is decidedly
handsome!

How came you, Elizabeth,
to tell us he was
so disagreeable?

You do not seem to find him
disagreeable now.

I've never seen him
as pleasant as now.

Ah, then perhaps
he's a little whimsical

in his civilities.

Great men often are.

I shall not take him
at his word about the fishing,

because he might
change his mind
another day

and warn me
off his grounds.

An invitation
to Pemberley...

Well, what shall I wear?

Ah, I have the apricot silk
with the long sleeves.

And you, Elizabeth,
what do you have?

I have a mind
amazed at its own
discomposure.

Why, because you are
to meet miss Darcy?

Rumor has it
that she is very proud.

Is she not destined
for Mr. Bingley?

Mr. Wickham would have it
that she is proud

and miss Bingley that she is
destined for her brother.

But as to the truth of it,
I do not know.

It is a great compliment indeed
to be asked to meet miss Darcy.

But I wish I were not.

Mr. Wickham does not find
favor hereabouts, Eliza.

They say he leaves debts
wherever he goes.

I have not heard
that rumor.

- No amount of warmth
will remove these creases.
- Oh, be patient.

But I know
this dress well,

I wore it often enough
at Rosings.

It was not
grand enough there,

and this is Pemberley.

I cannot believe
that Mr. Darcy

would behave
in a cruel way
to anyone.

In short,
you may be
very wrong

to attribute
virtue to Mr. Wickham
and malice to Mr. Darcy.

Aunt, it is true

that Mr. Darcy's character
is not so faulty,

or Mr. Wickham so amiable
as appeared to me and many
in Hertfordshire.

Indeed I have reason
to believe

that Mr. Wickham behaved
very badly towards Mr. Darcy.

Why did you
not tell us this?

I did not wish to speak
of something I had heard,

but did not know
for certain.

Then this is
a changed Elizabeth
indeed.

There is a curricle
at the door, wife,

the inn
is all in amazement
at the honor of it.

It has the Darcy crest.
It bears Mr. and miss Darcy.

And since I doubt they've come
to talk about fishing,

I conclude
they come calling
on our niece.

- Husband.
- Oh.

Elizabeth, quickly.

Mrs. Gardiner,
Mr. Gardiner,
miss Bennet,

may I introduce
miss Georgiana Darcy?

My sister has just
arrived from the South,

and I hastened
to introduce her.

Mrs. Gardiner,
Mr. Gardiner,
miss Bennet,

my brother has
spoken of you.

Well, shall we
sit down?

Miss Darcy was not
proud at all.

If she was quiet
it was because
she was shy,

and very tired.

It is a long journey
from London.

She scarcely
said a word,

but she looked
very pleasant.

Her figure is
very well formed
for sixteen.

Her appearance in general
was womanly and graceful.

I expected her to be
quite as frightening
as her brother,

but she was not.
She was charming
and easy.

I do not find Mr. Darcy
frightening.

He is so acute
an observer.

So are you, Eliza.

I hope you will be pleasant
to Mr. Bingley tomorrow.

Of course, my anger against him
has been long since done away.

I look forward
to seeing him,

although I'm not so sure
about his sisters.

Whenever I am
in the country

I never wish
to leave it,

and when
I am in town

it's pretty much
the same.

This part of the country
is a very long way.

Say what you will
about its delights-
thank you-

in a country neighborhood,
the society is confined
and unvarying.

For the most part
I prefer shooting to fishing.

I can't understand a man
who likes fishing.

The hills hereabouts
might almost be mistaken
for mountains.

And I find mountains
to be very dull-

they lack refinement.

Do you not think so,
miss Darcy?

I am sorry,
I did not hear you.

Do you not think so,
Mrs. Gardiner?

Oh, yes-
yes indeed.

Nature was much at fault
when she provided mountains.

I can't abide
a Mountain.

I'm most eager to take up
your kind invitation

to fish here tomorrow,
Mr. Darcy.

My dear Charles,
should you ever build
your own house,

let it be in the style
of Pemberley, but nearer home.

And how is
your family, miss Eliza,
all your family?

They are well enough,
I think.

You think?
You do not know?

In family life,
we sometimes know only
what we are told

and not the truth
of the matter.

They tell me
they are well enough.

It is above eight months
since we all met,

not since
the 26th of November,

when we all danced together
at Netherfield.

Pray, miss Eliza,
are not the militia
now removed from Meryton?

They must be a great loss
to your family.

They are gone to Brighton,
but we manage without them.

Your little sisters
have not followed them?

There is a wild grandeur
of scenery hereabouts,
miss Darcy.

You must find it
very different from the South.

The scenery is different,
but the friends remain the same.

How very ill
Eliza Bennet looks.

I never in my life saw
anyone so much altered

as she is
since the winter.

She's grown so...
Brown and coarse.

Louisa and I
were agreeing we would
not have known her.

Then I confess
I never did see
any beauty in her.

Her face is too thin,
her complexion has
no brilliancy,

her features are-
well, they're not
at all handsome.

Your coffee
is over there.

Her nose
lacks character,

there's nothing marked
in its lines.

Her teeth are tolerable,
but not out of the common way.

- Of whom can you
be speaking?
- Eliza Bennet.

And as for her eyes

which have sometimes
been called so fine,

they have a sharp,
shrewish look,

which I confess
I do not like at all.

Her dress
was out of fashion.

It was much worn,
and it was creased.

I remember when
we first knew her
in Hertfordshire,

how amazed we all were
to hear that she was
reputed a beauty.

And I particularly
recollect your saying
one evening,

"she a beauty?
I would as soon
call her mother a wit."

Yes, but that only when
I first knew her.

And for many months now
I have considered her

as one of the handsomest women
of my acquaintance.

"Dearest Lizzy,
something has occurred

of the most unexpected
and serious nature.

What I have to say
concerns poor Lydia.

A letter came at midnight
from colonel forster

to say that she has eloped
to Scotland with Mr. Wickham.

Our mother
is sadly grieved.

Father bears it better.

He has nothing
against Mr. Wickham

except a charge
of imprudence.

And I certainly am willing
to hope the best.

And though he may be
thoughtless and indiscreet,

this elopement may mean
nothing bad at heart.

He certainly does not
pursue her for fortune,

for she has none."

Jane,

I must go to London
at once.

Look after the house,
and look after
your mother.

It is bad news.

Lydia and Wickham
may not have gone
to Gretna green.

No, a marriage may not
have taken place
at all.

They were last seen
on the road to London,
not Scotland,

and colonel forster has
reason to believe

that Wickham has no intention
of marrying Lydia.

No, it is not an elopement
that he plans, Jane,

but the ruin
of Lydia

he may indeed already
have accomplished.

Father, you are
too distressed.

You must not go alone.
You must be sure of
acting properly.

I am well enough.

My eyes are
a little affected.

I will meet
colonel forster
in London.

You do not know
what they intend.

They may plan
a private marriage.

You delude yourself.

Oh, she cannot be
so lost to all judgment.

She can
and she is!

She is like her mother.
I blame her mother
for this.

"Elizabeth, I earnestly
beg you all to come home.

I know my dear Uncle
and aunt so well

that I am not afraid
of requesting it.

What father means to do
I am sure I know not.

But my Uncle Gardiner's
advice and assistance

would be everything
in the world."

- Good God,
what is the matter?
- I beg your pardon,

but I believe
my Uncle is here.

I must find him this moment,
on business that cannot
be delayed.

- I have not
an instant to lose.
- I will not detain you.

Let me or the servant
go out to Mr. Gardiner.
You're not well enough.

Find Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner,
bring them here with haste,
but do not alarm them.

Please, sit down.

A glass of wine
shall I get you?
You're very ill.

No, no, there is nothing
the matter with me.
I am quite well.

I am only distressed
by some dreadful news

I've just received
from Longbourn.

- Tell me.
- I'm so ashamed.

You may trust me.

It cannot
be concealed.

My youngest sister
has left all her friends,

eloped, and thrown herself
in the power of Mr. Wickham.

They are gone off together
from Brighton.

You know him too well
to doubt the rest.

She has no money,
no connections,

nothing which could
tempt him to marry her.

She is lost
forever.

When I consider
I might have prevented it,

i who knew
what he was,

had I but explained
some part of it only-

but it is all
too late.

I am grieved.

- But it is certain?
- Oh, yes.

They've been traced
almost to London.

Certainly not to Scotland
where such marriages
take place.

My father
has gone to London,

and my Uncle, I know,
will want to help him.

We shall all be off.

It's no use.

Nothing can be done.

I have not
the smallest hope.

It is horrible.

I would to heaven
that anything could be either
said or done on my part

that might offer consolation
to such distress...

But I will not
torment you with vain hopes

which might seem
to require your thanks.

This unfortunate affair will,
I fear, prevent my sister

from having the pleasure of
seeing you at Pemberley today.

Be so kind as to apologize
to miss Darcy.

Say that urgent business
called us home immediately.

Conceal the unhappy truth
for as long as it is possible-

I fear it cannot be long.

You have the assurance
of secrecy.

I hope the matter may be
more happily concluded

than you have at present
reason to hope.

I will now leave you
to the care of your relatives.

Eliza?

What is
the matter?

I think we should judge
as Jane does,

and hope for the best.

It is very unlikely
that Mr. Wickham,

or indeed any young man
whatever his character,

should form such
a design against a girl

who's by no means
unprotected
or friendless,

and who was
actually staying in
his colonel's family.

That Lydia could be
in danger from my silence

never occurred to me.

I can remember no symptom
of affection on either side.

Every girl in Meryton
was out of their senses

about him for
the first two months,

but he never distinguished Lydia
by any particular attention.

Her fancy
soon gave way,

and other officers
became her favorites.

Everything must sink
under such a proof
of family weakness

as Lydia has brought
upon us.

And my acquaintance
with Mr. Darcy

has been so full
of contradictions,

and perverseness and variety
of feelings on my side,

nothing can be said
in my defense.

Oh, I am wild
to be home.

It is your father's fault.

If I'd been able to carry
my point of going to Brighton
with all my family,

this wouldn't
have happened.

Poor, dear Lydia.
And no one to take
care of her.

Why did the Forsters
ever let her go out
of their sight?

I'm sure there was some
great neglect or other
on their side,

for she's not the sort of girl
to do such a thing if she'd
been well looked after.

I always felt
they were most unfit
to have the charge of her.

I was overruled.
I always am.

Poor dear child.

And now here's
Mr. Bennet gone away,

and I know he will find Wickham
wherever he meets him,

and he will be killed,
and what will become of us all?

The Collinses will turn us out
before he's cold in his grave.

And if- if you are not
kind to us, brother,

I do not know
what we shall do.

I will be
in London tomorrow.

I will make sure
Mr. Bennet does not die.

I will even make him
come home.

And do not any of you
give way to useless alarm.

Though it is right to be
prepared for the worst,

there's no occasion
to look upon it
as certain.

And when you find them,
if they are not married,
make them marry.

And as for wedding clothes,
do not let them wait for that,

but tell Lydia, she may have
as much money as she chooses,

to buy them
after they are married.

Oh- no.

And, but... above all,

stop Mr. Bennet
from fighting.

Tell him what
a dreadful state I'm in-

I'm frightened
out of my wits.

I have tremblings
and flutterings
all over me,

spasms in my side.

And tell Lydia
not to make any directions

about her clothes
until she's seen me,

because she does not know
which are the best shops.

Such pains
in my head-
beatings in my heart.

I get no rest-
by day or by night.

Unhappy as the event
must be for Lydia,

we may draw from it
this useful lesson:

That loss of virtue
in a female is irretrievable;

that one false step
involves her in endless ruin;

that her reputation
is no less brittle

than it is beautiful.

I don't feel very well.

What I knew,
I knew in confidence.

Now father
is so angry with me.

You liked him, Lizzy.
You admired Mr. Wickham.

When he was to marry
odious miss king with
the freckles, you cried.

I saw no harm in him.

Lydia left a note
with Mrs. forster,

she said she was
going to Gretna green
with an angel.

And when she came back
she would sign her name
"Lydia Wickham,"

and what a good joke
it would be,

and she could
hardly write
for laughing.

All may yet
be resolved

in a perfectly
happy manner.

We must all
be discreet,

and very private

until it is
resolved.

- What?!
- And Mr. Wickham
is in debt.

To every tradesman
in Meryton.

Take comfort, sister.

Everyone knows him to be
the wickedest young man
in the world.

They believe Lydia
to be foolish,

but they honor Mr. Wickham
with the title-

seducer.

Ohh.

I never liked him.

I told Lizzy so
when she was
so fond of him.

It is
from Mr. Bennet?
He is killed.

It is from Mr. Collins
to Mr. Bennet.

And since we have been
authorized to open all that
comes to him in his absence,

- we have
accordingly read it.
- Oh, Mr. Collins too?

So it appears, mother.

He feels himself called on
by our relationship

and his situation
in life

to condole us
on our grievous
affliction-

he refers to us
as respectful,

for which, I suppose,
we must be grateful.

This is what he says,

"the death of your daughter
would have been a blessing

in comparison to this.
Howsoever that may be,

you are grievously
to be pitied in which opinion

i am joined,
not only by Mrs. Collins,

but likewise by lady Catherine
and her daughter,

to whom I have related
the affair.

And this leads me to reflect
with augmented consideration

on a certain event
of last November,

for had it been otherwise,
I must have been involved

in all your sorrow
and disgrace.

Let me advise you then,
my dear sir,

to throw off
your unworthy child
from your affection forever,

and leave her to reap
the fruits of her own
heinous offense."

- Why thank you, hill.
- Thank you, miss Jane.

It is from
Mr. Gardiner.

And he has nothing
of a pleasant nature
to write.

"The couple
are not found.

Wickham has not
a single relation near

nor is he on terms
of particular friendship
with anyone,

although his acquaintance
is numerous.

So there is no one likely
to give any news of him.

His finances are
in a wretched state-"

so there's
a powerful motive
for secrecy-

"he has left
gaming debts behind him.

More than ј1,000
will be needed to clear
his expenses in Brighton."

A gamester?

I had not
an idea of it.
How horrible.

But father is
coming home tomorrow.

Oh, I wish
he would not.

We must pour
into the wounded bosom
of each other

the balm of sisterly
consolation.

Oh, nonsense!
Coming home without
dear Lydia-

but who's to fight Wickham
and make him marry her,

if Mr. Bennet comes away?
I wish he would stay.