All language subtitles for Mansfield.Park.1983.E04

(DR GRANT) Through Jesus Christ
our Lord, Amen.

(FANNY) My dear brother William,
I pray the wind is favourable for your return.

My cousin and Mr Rushworth
were married today.

It was a very proper wedding.
Julia and I were bridesmaids.

They're to go to Brighton
where Mr Rushworth has taken a house,

and Julia is asked to accompany them.

My cousin Tom leaves for London very soon

and altogether our family circle
will be greatly reduced.

The more eagerly I pray, William,

that your return will grant you leave enough
by my uncle's invitation

to visit us at Mansfield... soon!

(DR GRANT)
Did somebody mention a small repast?

- We shall be quiet now, it seems.
- Yes, I think so.

My father will not much regard it.
You are his comfort now.

Miss Price, Miss Price, come in, my dear.
Come, come.

Miss Price, it's pouring.
I insist you come in.

My dear Miss Price...

- Oh, such a day.
- You must be soaked to the skin.

- No. I had taken shelter under your tree.
- Yes, yes. We saw it all.

Dr Grant was composing his sermon,
but he was resolved to come to your aid.

- Most kind.
- A welcome interruption, I assure you.

Mary, take Miss Price to the sitting room.
Take her to the fire.

Should not you change your clothes?
I shall find you anything you need.

No, it's quite unnecessary.

Dr Grant was so prompt in coming to me
with the aid of his umbrella...

Take off your cape at the very least
and come and warm yourself by the fire.

Oh.

There. What a pleasant surprise
a wet day in the country brings.

I should not stay.
I was on my way to my Aunt Norris.

She sent for me on an errand.

Aunt Norris can wait.

In a quarter of an hour we shall see.
Those clouds look quite alarming.

I think they're all passed over.
The weather is all from the south.

South or north,
I know a black cloud when I see it.

Besides, I want to play to you.

A very pretty piece.
Your cousin Edmund's favourite.

- Oh, um...
- You must hear your cousin's favourite.

It may be he will call to take you home.

(GENTLE MELODY)

This is pretty.

Oh, very pretty.

Three years ago
this was nothing but a hedgerow in a field.

Mrs Grant has... fashioned it
with such simplicity.

How wonderful,
how beautiful, the evergreens.

But you'll think I rhapsodise.

To say the truth, I am like the famous doge
in the court of Louis XIV.

I see no wonder in this shrubbery
equal to seeing myself in it.

If anyone had told me a year ago
that this would be my home,

I should not have believed them.

It is the quietest five months
I ever passed.

Too quiet for you, I believe.

I should have thought so myself,
but who knows what it may lead to?

My sister and Mr Bertram
are come to see for us.

I am so glad your eldest cousin is gone
that he may be Mr Bertram again.

There is something in the sound
of "Mr Edmund Bertram" so pitiful,

so younger-brother-like, that I detest it.

How differently we feel.

To me, the sound of Mr Bertram is so cold.

But Edmund -
it's the name of kings and princes.

Hm, I grant you the name is good in itself.

Lord Edmund and Sir Edmund
sound delightfully,

but sink it under the chill of a Mr
and it is nothing.

Shall we join them and disappoint them
of their lecture upon sitting out of doors?

- (EDMUND) So here you are.
- Don't you scold us for our imprudence.

Why do you think we have been sitting down
but to be entreated never to do so again?

I might have scolded if you had been alone,

but while you do wrong together,
I can overlook a great deal.

They cannot have been sitting long.

I saw them from the window
and they were walking.

And the day is so mild, the rain is over.

Upon my word, you are two of
the most disappointing friends I ever met with.

There is no giving you
a moment's uneasiness.

But I have long thought Mr Bertram
one of the worst subjects

in any manoeuvre
that a woman could be plagued with.

But you, Mrs Grant, my own sister,
I think I had a right to alarm you a little.

Don't flatter yourself, my dearest Mary,
I have my own alarms.

Cook has been telling me that the turkey
I wished on Sunday for Dr Grant

will not keep beyond tomorrow.

And he would enjoy it more on Sunday
after the fatigues of the day.

Ah, the sweets of housekeeping
in a country village.

There is no escaping such vexations anywhere.

Indeed. I mean to be too rich
to feel anything of the sort.

A large income is the best recipe
for happiness I ever heard of.

- You intend to be very rich?
- To be sure. Do not you? Do not we all?

I cannot intend anything so completely
beyond my power to command.

Then be honest and poor by all means.
I shall not envy you.

I do not think I shall even respect you.
You might be honest and rich.

You might have gone into the army
ten years ago, or been in Parliament.

But I must wait
till there is a special assembly

for the representation of younger sons.

Oh, shall we see you tomorrow?

I would be happy
if you will take my mutton with me.

- Indeed, sir, you are very kind.
- And perhaps Miss Price will join us too.

I? Oh, I do not think it will be possible.

Indeed it's very kind...
There's my aunt to attend to.

I am sure my mother
will spare you on this occasion.

If you hear nothing to the contrary,
Mrs Grant, Fanny will be delighted to come.

And you know what your dinner will be.

Cook insists, my dear,
upon the turkey being dressed tomorrow.

Very well, very well.

Miss Price and Mr Edmund Bertram
must take their chance.

A turkey or a goose or a leg of mutton.

Whatever you and your cook
choose to give us, my dear.

We shall see you both.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

I cannot spare her.
And I am sure she does not want to go.

Fanny? You do not want to go, do you?

If you put such a question to her,
Fanny will immediately say no.

But I am sure, my dear mother,
she would like to go.

And I can see no reason
why she should not.

- If you cannot do without me, ma'am...
- But my mother will have my father.

- To be sure, Edmund, so I shall.
- Suppose you take my father's opinion.

So I will, Edmund. I will ask Sir Thomas
whether I can do without her.

Sir Thomas? Stay.

- I have something to tell you.
- Yes, Lady Bertram?

I have something to tell you
that I think will surprise you.

Mrs Grant has asked Fanny
to dine with her tomorrow.

- Well?
- Edmund wants her to go.

But how can I spare her?

She will be late.
What is your difficulty?

Is it not natural that Mrs Grant should want
an agreeable companion for her sister?

- Nothing could be more so.
- But can I do without her, Sir Thomas?

My dear, I think you may.

But she always makes tea, you know,
when my sister is not here.

Mrs Norris may be prevailed upon to spend
the evening with us, and I shall be at home.

Very well, then, Fanny, you may go.

Thank you, Aunt.
I am very much obliged to you.

Upon my word, Fanny, you are in luck
to meet with such indulgence.

You ought to be very much obliged
to your aunt for letting you go.

I am indeed, ma'am. I'm setting her work
in order so that I shall not be missed.

Oh, your aunt can do without you very well.

I shall be here, so you may
be quite easy as to that.

And I hope you will have a very agreeable day
and find it all mighty delightful.

But I do beseech you, Fanny,
not to be putting yourself forward

as if you were dear Mrs Rushworth or Julia.

The nonsense and folly of people stepping
out of their rank...

Remember, wherever you are,
you must be the lowest and the last.

As to coming away, you must stay
as long as Edmund chooses.

- Leave him to settle that.
- I should not think of anything else.

And if it should rain,
which I think exceedingly likely,

you must manage as well as you can,
and not expect the carriage to be sent for you.

The carriage will not be out.
I shall not go home tonight.

- You must take your things accordingly.
- Indeed, ma'am.

Fanny, at what time
would you have the carriage?

My dear Sir Thomas, Fanny can walk.

Walk?

My niece walk to a dinner engagement?

- Would twenty minutes after four suit you?
- Yes, sir.

Wilcox is punctual as ever.

Now I must look at you, Fanny,
and tell you how much I like you.

I like you very much indeed.
What have you got on?

The new dress my uncle gave me
on my cousin's marriage.

I hope you do not think me too fine.

A woman can never be too fine
while she is all in white.

Your gown seems very pretty.
I like these glossy spots here.

Has not Miss Crawford
a gown something the same?

Heyday, here's company. Here's a carriage.
Who have they got to meet us?

It's Crawford's barouche. There are
his own men pushing it back into its old quarters.

- Mr Crawford?
- He has returned from Bath.

This is quite a surprise, Fanny.
I shall be very glad to see him.

So, have you really
got apprehensions about?

Thank you, my dear sister.

What are those gentlemen talking of?
It seems very interesting.

The most interesting subject in the world.

They were talking about it
in the dining parlour.

- How to make money.
- Oh.

Dr Grant is instructing Bertram
on the living of Thornton Lacey,

which will soon be his.

Indeed? How soon?

He is to be ordained next month.

Next month?

Oh, that is soon. That is soon, then.

Bertram?

I shall make a point
of coming to your first sermon.

I shall come on purpose
to encourage a young beginner.

Miss Price.
Will you join me in encouraging your cousin?

We must bring tablets and a pencil.
When is it to be?

I shall keep clear of you, Crawford,
as long as I can. I promise you only that.

So, all the players are now dispersed.

A Rushworth and his fair bride
are at Brighton, I understand.

Yes. They have been there about a fortnight,
have they not, Miss Price?

- Yes.
- And Julia is with them.

We hear nothing of Mr Yates.

Poor Rushworth
and his two-and-forty speeches.

I am much mistaken if his lovely Maria

will ever want him to make
two-and-forty speeches to her.

You were Mr Rushworth's best friend.

Your kindness and patience
can never be forgotten.

Trying to give him a brain,
which his nature has denied.

It is as a dream... a pleasant dream.

I shall always look back on our theatricals
with exquisite pleasure.

We were unlucky, Miss Price.

Another week, only one week
would have been enough.

If Mansfield had had the government of the winds,
there would have been a difference.

Oh, not to endanger Sir Thomas' life,

but a steady contrary wind or a dead calm.

I think we would have indulged ourselves
with a week's calm in the Atlantic.

I think, sir, I would not have delayed
his return for a single day.

My uncle disapproved it all so entirely

that, in my opinion,
everything had gone quite far enough.

There.

I have informed the admiral of my new plan.

I have decided to remain at Mansfield
another fortnight. Why do you think?

To walk and ride with me, to be sure.

That would be exercise
only to my body, not the brain.

And I do not like idleness.

No. My plan is to make Fanny Price
in love with me.

Fanny Price? Nonsense, no.

No! You ought to be satisfied
with her two cousins.

But I cannot be satisfied
without Fanny Price...

without making a hole
in Fanny Price's heart.

You don't seem properly aware
that she is quite a different creature.

In that soft skin of hers,
there is a decided beauty.

And, from what I observe
of her eyes and mouth,

I don't despair of their being capable
of expression enough.

When she has anything to express.

And then, her air...

...her manner,

her tout ensemble
is so indescribably improved.

She must have grown two inches
since I first saw her.

Phoo, phoo. That is only because you have
no tall women to compare her with.

I have always thought her pretty enough.

But if you do set about
a flirtation with her,

you will never persuade me
it is for her beauty,

nor from anything
but your own idleness and folly.

I do not quite know
what to make of Miss Fanny.

I could not tell last night
what she would be at.

What is her character?

Is she solemn? Is she prudish?

Why did she draw back
and look so grave at me?

I never was in company
with a girl so long

trying to entertain her,
and succeed so ill.

I must try and get the better of it.

Her looks say, "I will not like you,"
and I say she shall.

Foolish fellow.

So this is her attraction after all,
that she does not care for you.

This gives her such a soft skin
and makes her so much taller.

But I do desire, Henry, that you will not
be making her really unhappy.

She's as good a little creature
as ever lived,

and has a great deal of feeling.

But a little love may do her no harm.

It can be but a fortnight.

If a fortnight can kill her,
she has a constitution nothing could save.

I only want her to look kindly on me
and give me smiles as well as blushes.

And I see my way.

And bless my uncle for having weaned me
upon this excellent journal,

which gives the earliest
naval intelligence.

For here it is announced
that His Majesty's sloop the Antwerp

is lately returned from the Mediterranean
and is docked at Portsmouth.

So brother William must soon be here.

Mr Crawford, ma'am.

Why, Mr Crawford!

Forgive me, sir,
but my brother William's just arrived,

and I was just thanking him.

William, Mr Crawford,
the brother of Mrs Grant at the parsonage.

- Mr Price, you have quite surprised us.
- How do you do, sir?

I came to bring your sister news,
but you precede me.

William has just now given me this.

He bought it with his prize money
from a French privateer.

Isn't it fine?

You're never going to prosper
if you lay out all your money on presents.

Ah, no, Miss Price, to win life's
greatest prizes a man must pledge his all.

That is the game.

- It's the queen!
- Trumps.

Miss Price, let me engage your attention,
six counters for your cards.

- Fanny, I will give you a dozen.
- No, no, you shall not part with the queen.

Oh, excuse me, Your Ladyship
must not see your card.

It may be higher. Let it lie so.

- Come, Fanny...
- No, no, sir. Hands off.

Your sister does not part with the queen.
She is quite determined.

I have staked my all like a lady of spirit.

If Miss Price refuses every offer,
we must play on.

- Five.
- Clubs.

- Eight.
- Six.

Now, Your Ladyship.

- It's two.
- And...

- (GROANS)
- The game is yours, you see?

She had much rather it were William's.

Poor Fanny, not to be allowed
to cheat herself as she wishes.

Was Your Ladyship pleased with the game?

Speculation? It seemed very entertaining.
But a very odd game.

I was never to see my cards
and Mr Crawford does all the rest.

(MRS GRANT)
Henry, take Lady Bertram to the fireside.

I will join you as soon
as this rubber is done.

Your Ladyship.

We should have had a double, Mrs Norris,
if you had not played the king.

But I was sure you held the ace.
It was your suit, Dr Grant.

This is the assembly night at Portsmouth.

If I were there, I should be at it, perhaps.

- Do you wish yourself at Portsmouth?
- No, Fanny!

I shall have enough of Portsmouth,
and of dancing too, when I cannot have you.

The Portsmouth girls turn up their noses
at anyone who has not a commission.

One might as well be nothing
as a midshipman.

- You remember the Gregorys?
- Mmm.

They have grown up into amazing fine girls.

But they will hardly speak to me
because Lucy is courted by a lieutenant.

Oh, shame, shame.

But never mind it, William.
It's not worth minding.

It's no more than the greatest admirals
have all experienced in their time.

You must think of that.

Only think how little you will care for
any such nonsense when you are a lieutenant.

- I begin to think I never shall be.
- Oh, you must not talk so.

I'm sure my uncle will do everything
in his power to get you made,

when he understands
of what consequence it is.

It may be.

- Are you fond of dancing, Fanny?
- Yes.

I should like to go to a ball with you
and see you dance.

We used to jump about together many a time
when the hand organ was in the street.

Is not Fanny a good dancer, sir?

I am sorry to say that I do not know. I have
not seen Fanny dance since she was little.

But I have had the pleasure of seeing
your sister dance, Mr Price.

I would answer your question
to your satisfaction, if Miss Price would allow.

It would give me great pleasure
to see you both dance.

My dear Sir Thomas,
I know what you are thinking.

If dear Julia were at home
or dearest Mrs Rushworth...

My daughters
have their pleasures at Brighton.

The dance I think of giving at Mansfield
will be for their cousins.

Why should not William see Fanny dance?

- Miss Crawford.
- My dear Miss Price.

I was just on my way to see you.
Do you go for a walk?

Indeed, I was on my way to call on you.

- Then we may walk together.
- Yes.

You know that my uncle has arranged a ball
for tomorrow night.

I wish only to consult you
on what I should wear.

I have a better plan.

Let us go up to my room
and have a comfortable coze together.

There. Now, we are agreed already
as to your dress in all its grander parts.

But what shall you have for a necklace?

- Shall not you wear your brother's cross?
- Oh, yes.

- But, then, you see...
- William could not afford a chain as well?

I was hoping to show you these.

You see what a collection I have -
more by half than I ever use.

I do not offer them as new.
You must forgive the liberty.

Choose one and oblige me.

- Oh, no, Miss Crawford...
- Nay, I insist!

Now, what do you think to this? Or this?

Ah, but this, I believe, is the prettiest.
Will you accept it from me?

If it is your wish.

You would prefer something simpler,
something plainer, perhaps?

Oh, no, this will do very well. I mean...

Now...

There.

When I wear it, I shall always think of you
and of your kindness to me.

And you must think of someone else too.

You must think of Henry,
for it was his choice in the first place.

He gave it to me.

And with it, I make over to you all the duty
of remembering the original giver.

Oh, no. No. No.

Miss Crawford, I cannot...
I cannot accept this. Pray.

My dear child, what are you afraid of?
Do you suspect a plot between us?

No, indeed.

Well, then... to convince me you suspect no trick,
take it and say no more.

It is too small a trifle
to be worth so many words, isn't it?

Fanny, I beg your pardon for being here.

I came to look for you and was making use
of your inkstand to explain my errand.

But I can now speak my business, which is
only to beg your acceptance of this trifle -

a chain for William's cross.

Why, Cousin...

You ought to have had it a week ago, but
Tom was not in London as soon as I expected.

I hope its simplicity is to your taste.

At any rate, I know
you will be kind to my intentions

and think of it as a token of my love
as one of your oldest friends.

Oh, Cousin, stop!

A moment, I pray you.

I cannot begin to thank you.
Your goodness in thinking of me...

- If this is all you have to say...
- No, no, it's not. I want to consult.

This is beautiful, indeed.
It's precisely what I wished for.

This will exactly suit my cross.
They must and shall be worn together.

Miss Crawford has just now presented me
with this to wear at the ball.

Miss Crawford?

For William's cross.

What a curious chance.

And yet, it is not.

Our minds may think alike...

- I shall return it.
- What?

It was not first bought for me.
It was her brother's present to her.

Surely I may suppose
she would not wish to part with it?

But surely she must not suppose
it is not wanted.

Its having been her brother's gift
should make no difference.

And it is handsomer than mine...

No, it's not handsomer!

Your chain will agree with William's cross
beyond all comparison better than this... necklace.

Then your objection
would seem to be from vanity.

No, Cousin, you know it's not.

- Consider what I tell you...
- For one night, Fanny.

Wear this tomorrow evening
and keep the chain for commoner occasions.

That is my advice.

I would not have the shadow of a coolness
arise between you on this account.

Between the two dearest objects
I have on earth.

Wear it for my sake if you choose...

...tomorrow.

Child! What are you about?

Have you no better task
than pirouetting in the dark?

- Forgive me...
- I am half distracted...

But if I may do anything...

Go and dress.
You would be nothing but a nuisance.

If you have any gratitude
for the kindness of your uncle...

- Yes, indeed, forgive me.
...you should be ready early.

Fanny!

You look fagged. Have you been walking?

No, I've not been out at all.

Perhaps you would have been better
out of doors away from my Aunt Norris.

You may guess where I have been.

I have engaged Miss Crawford
for the first two dances

and she has just told me it will be
the last time she ever dances with me.

She is not serious, I hope.

She says she has never danced
with a clergyman and she never will.

For my own part,
I wish there had been no ball.

I mean not this week, not this very night.

- Tomorrow I leave home.
- Tomorrow?

I am to go to my friend
at Peterborough, Mr Owen.

We are to be ordained together.

I am very sorry
that anything should distress you.

Today ought to be a day of pleasure.
My uncle meant it so.

Yes.

It will be a day of pleasure.
It will all end right.

I have been pained by her manner,
that is all.

And sometimes, Fanny, I confess
it appears to me more than manner...

Don't tell me anything
that you may be sorry for hereafter.

The time may come...

Dearest Fanny... that time will never come.

Indeed, I begin to think
the chances grow less and less.

You are the only person on this earth
to whom I should say what I have said.

You can bear witness, Fanny.

I was never blinded.
We have often talked over her little faults.

And I must be a blockhead indeed

if I should ever think of your kindness
and sympathy without the deepest gratitude.

Yes... yes, indeed, I know...

...and you can tell me anything.

There is nothing yet to tell.

I shall not speak tonight,

and tomorrow I shall be gone.

This is your first ball, Fanny.

Miss Price is coming out and I rejoice.

Thank you, Mrs Chapman,
but you see I am dressed already.

Oh, pray thank Lady Bertram
for sending you to help me.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER))

(DR GRANT) Nice to see you again, my dear.
I didn't expect to see you.

- Miss Price?
- Oh, good evening, Mr Crawford.

Don't be alarmed. I shall pay
no compliment to your appearance.

I know it would distress you.

But in return, may I engage you
for the first two dances, if you are free?

Indeed, sir. I am very much obliged to you.

Mr Price, may I have a word with you, sir?

I'm pleased to see you, Mr Crawford.
What a fine attendance for Fanny's ball.

- A great occasion.
- Hmm.

I believe you mean to travel
by tomorrow's mail.

I fear so. It's my last night at Mansfield.

It happens I shall travel tomorrow to London too.

Would you accept a place in my carriage?

It would mean an earlier start,
but a more comfortable journey.

- Your carriage! Do you hear this, Fanny?
- Yes, indeed.

To travel post with four horses
and a fine companion

instead of rumble-tumble in the mail.

Of course, I should be delighted.
Do you mean it, sir?

I should be very happy to have your company.

We shall be in town
in time for my uncle's dinner hour.

You are invited to dine
at the admiral's with me.

Why... it will be as fine
as going up with dispatches.

Fanny, say how obliged
we are to Mr Crawford.

I thank you, sir.
William is very grateful to you.

By mail, you would have had but an hour's rest
before getting into the Portsmouth coach.

Yes, very true.

How pretty your cousin looks.
I must speak to her.

My dear Miss Price,
they are all going into the ballroom

and I have had no opportunity
to admire your dress. Come, let me see.

Oh!

What's this? What's this?!

Miss Crawford,
I have another chain for William's cross.

So I see.

It was given me by my cousin Edmund

and bought the very moment after you had
so kindly made me a present of your necklace.

- By your cousin Edmund?
- Yes, indeed.

Oh, but I have yours as well.
I hope you will forgive me.

But that was like him.
No other man would have thought of it.

A chain for your brother's cross.
I honour him beyond expression.

Ah, Fanny, dear.

- Are you engaged for this dance?
- Yes, sir, to Mr Crawford.

Splendid.
You are to open the ball, you see.

I, sir? Oh, no, no, it cannot be.
I hope, sir, it may be settled otherwise...

You are to start the dance.
It must be so, my dear.

Mr Crawford.

Now we shall show them.

(MUSIC BEGINS)

Now we may all see Fanny dance.
And she looks very well, my dear.

Yes, indeed, she does look well.

I sent Chapman to her,
you know, to help her dress.

- I sent Chapman to her.
- Indeed.

And she has good reason to look well.

Only think what extraordinary advantages
you and I have given her.

Even that dress was your gift
for dear Mrs Rushworth's marriage.

What would she have been
if we had not taken her by the hand?

Fanny will always be herself,
do what we may.

Poor Fanny, she's quite fagged out!
And the sport is but begun.

I hope we shall keep it up these two hours yet.
How can she be tired so soon?

Soon? My good friend, it is three o'clock.
Your sister is not used to these hours.

Fanny, you shall not get up to see me go.
Sleep as long as you can and never mind me.

- No, no, no, William.
- Did you think of being up before he goes?

Yes, sir.
Yes, I must get up and breakfast with him.

Mr Crawford is to call for him
in the morning.

At half past nine. And I shall be punctual.

For there will be no kind sister
to get up for me.

I shall have only a desolate house
to hurry from.

Then you must have your breakfast here.

That's the least we can do to repay
your kindness in taking my nephew up to town.

- You are sure, sir?
- Indeed, I insist.

I am much obliged.
It will be a most agreeable arrangement.

And if Fanny is equally insistent
that she must join you...

- I hope she will go to bed.
- Oh, no!

Indeed, I must advise you...

I do advise you earnestly.

Very well, sir.

William...

I shall see you early... and Mr Crawford.

And, my dear uncle,
I must thank you for all.

Indeed, for the happiest enjoyment
I have known.

I'm glad you took such pleasure in it.

Your aunts, you know, have gone to bed.

- Goodnight, dear Fanny.
- Goodnight, sir.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

William, remember me
to my father and mother

and to Sam and Susan and all the family.

Goodbye, Fanny.

Goodbye. I'll remember our dance as well.

Bye.

Fanny.

Do I disturb you? Forgive me.

I have to make an early start as well.

I shall be gone but a week.

I know there is a place in your heart
for one that I shall never fill.

Oh, Cousin.

But one for you in mine
that no one else shall ever have.

Fanny...
I cannot think what is the matter with me.

I feel quite stupid.
It must be sitting up so late last night.

Fanny, you must do something to keep me awake.
I feel so stupid, I cannot work.

Fetch the cards.

What will you say, Sir Thomas?

- Ma'am?
- What will you answer to Julia's letter?

She must go, I believe.

I will answer that she may go
with Maria and Mr Rushworth to London.

Until Mr Rushworth is settled
on his house in town.

I hope my daughters will support each other.
There is a vast deal to be done.

Yes, to be sure. Though I had supposed
Julia would be home again before very long.

- Thank you.
- We miss our two young men.

William's visits
may now be tolerably frequent.

As to Edmund,
we must learn to do without him.

This will be the last winter
of his belonging to us as he has done.

Next year, he takes up residence
at Thornton Lacey.

That is not far, Sir Thomas,
though it is far enough, to be sure.

I wish they were not going away.
They are all going away, I think.

I wish they would stay at home.

- Fanny, you may deal the cards.
- Yes, ma'am.

I am very glad, Sir Thomas,
we took Fanny as we did.

Now the others are away,
we feel the good of it.

Very true. As I hope we show her
by praising her to her face.

It is a comfort to think
we shall always have her with us.

Besides, I cannot do without her.

(MARY) What have you heard from him?

Shall we walk to the parsonage?

You say your cousin Edmund
is to delay his return by several days.

- Does his longer stay surprise you?
- I do not know... Yes.

I had not particularly expected it.

Perhaps he will always stay away longer
than he talks of. All young men do.

He did not - the only time
he stayed with Mr Owen before.

If you write,
you must give my compliments to him.

I suppose it must be compliments.

Isn't there something wanted in our language
between compliments and...

And love?

To suit the sort of friendly acquaintance
we have had together?

But compliments must be sufficient here.

What does he stay for?

I only heard part of the letter to my uncle.
It was but a few lines.

His friend had pressed him to stay longer
and he had agreed to do so.

A few days longer... or some days longer.
I'm not sure which.

Oh, if he wrote to his father...
I thought it might have been to you.

No, I have had no letter.

If you had, you would
have heard of balls and parties.

- How many Miss Owens are there?
- Three, grown up.

- And are the Miss Owens musical?
- I do not know. I never heard.

It is very foolish to ask questions
about any young ladies.

About three sisters just grown up.

For one knows without being told
exactly what they are.

All very accomplished and pleasing
and one very pretty.

There is a beauty in every family.
It is a regular thing.

Two play on the pianoforte and one the harp

and they all sing,
or would sing if they were taught.

Or sing all the better for not being taught.

Or something like that.

I know nothing of the Miss Owens.

You know nothing and care less,
as people say.

But suppose you had one of the Miss Owens
settled at Thornton Lacey.

How should you like that?

Stranger things have happened.
I dare say they are trying for it.

And I do not at all wonder or blame them.

It is everybody's duty
to do as well for themselves as they can.

Their father is a clergyman,
their brother a clergyman,

they are all clergymen together.

He is their lawful property.
He fairly belongs to them.

You don't speak, Fanny.
Miss Price, you don't speak.

Honestly, don't you rather expect it
than otherwise?

No. I don't expect it at all.

Ah, Henry, are you just returned?
I didn't hear the carriage.

Where is my sister?
Where is Dr Grant?

My sister is abroad
seeking to find where her bantams lay

and Dr Grant is laying down his cellar.

Had you a pleasant journey?
Is all your business done in town?

Yes, and I have come to a decision.

You know with what idle designs I began,
but this is an end to them.

I am quite determined. My mind is made up.

- To what?
- Will it astonish you?

No. I'm sure you are aware.
You must be aware.

I am quite determined to marry Fanny Price.
I have come to ask for her hand in marriage.