All language subtitles for Pride.Prejudice.2005.2160p.4K.WEB.x265.10bit.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX].mkvPride.Prejudice.2005.2160p.4K.WEB.x265.10bit.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]_track3_[eng]

Lydia. Kitty.

My dear Mr. Bennet, have you heard?

Netherfield Park is let at last.

Do you not want to know who has taken it?

As you wish to tell me, my dear,

I doubt I have any choice in the matter.

Liddy, Kitty, what have I told you
about listening at the door?

Shh! Never mind that.
There's a Mr. Bingley

- arrived from the North.
- Perchance.

- £5,000 a year!
- Really?

- He's single.
- He's single.

- Who's single?
- A Mr. Bingley.

Kitty.

And how can that possibly affect them?

Oh, Mr. Bennet,
how can you be so tiresome?

- You know he must marry one of them.
- A-ha!

So that is his design in settling here.

You must go and visit him at once.

Good heavens. People.

For we may not visit if you do not,
as you well know, Mr. Bennet.

Aren't you listening? You never do.

You must, Papa.

At once.

There's no need. I already have.

- Have?
- When?

Oh, Mr. Bennet, how can you tease me so?

Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?

You mistake me, my dear.

I have the highest respect for them.

They've been
my constant companions these 20 years.

Papa.

- Is he amiable?
- Who?

- Is he handsome?
- Who?

He's sure to be handsome.

With £5,000 a year, it wouldn't matter
if he had warts and a leer.

- Who's got warts?
- I will give my hearty consent

to his marrying whichever
of the girls he chooses.

So, will he come
to the ball tomorrow, Papa?

I believe so.

Can I wear
your spotted muslin, Jane?

No, I need it.

I'll lend you my green slippers.

- They were mine.
- Were they?

Then I'll do your mending for a week.

I'll re-trim your new bonnet.

- Two weeks.
- And I'll pay you myself, Jane.

- Jane, look at me. Jane.
- But I want to wear it myself.

I can't breathe.

I think
one of my toes just came off.

Now, if every man in the room
does not end the evening

in love with you,
then I'm no judge of beauty.

- Or men.
- No, they are far too easy to judge.

They're not all bad.

Humorless poppycocks,
in my limited experience.

One of these days, Lizzie,
someone will catch your eye

and then you'll have to watch your tongue.

How good of you to come.

So, which of the painted peacocks
is our Mr. Bingley?

Well, he's on the right,
and on the left is his sister.

And the person with the quizzical brow?

That is his good friend, Mr. Darcy.

He looks miserable, poor soul.

Miserable, he may be,
but poor, he most certainly is not.

- Tell me.
- £10,000 a year,

and he owns half of Derbyshire.

The miserable half?

He's about the best butcher in the county.

If I could introduce
the ladies in the choir.

Mr. Bennet,
you must introduce him to the girls.

Immediately.

Smile. Smile at Mr. Bingley. Smile.

Mary.

Mr. Bingley, my eldest daughter you know.

Mrs. Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet,

Elizabeth, and Miss Mary Bennet.

It is a pleasure.

I have two others,
but they're already dancing.

I'm delighted to make your acquaintance.

And may I introduce
Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.

Yes.

How do you like it here in Hertfordshire,
Mr. Bingley?

Very much.

The library at Netherfield, I've heard,
is one of the finest in the country.

Yes, it fills me with guilt.
I'm not a very good reader, you see.

I prefer being out of doors.

I mean, I can read, of course.

And I'm not suggesting
you can't read out of doors, of course.

I wish I read more,

but there's always
so many other things to do.

Yes, that's exactly
what I meant.

Mama! Mama!

You will never, ever believe
what we're about to tell you!

- Well, tell me quickly.
- She's going to take the veil.

The regiments are coming.

Officers!

They're to be stationed the whole winter
in the village, just right there!

Officers!

- As far as the eye can see.
- Officers!

Oh, look, Jane's dancing with Mr. Bingley.

Mr. Bennet.

- Do you dance, Mr. Darcy?
- Not if I can help it.

I didn't know you were coming to see me.
What's the matter?

We are a long way from Grosvenor Square,
are we not, Mr. Darcy?

I've never seen
so many pretty girls in my life.

You were dancing with
the only handsome girl in the room.

She is the most beautiful creature
I have ever beheld.

But her sister, Elizabeth,
is very agreeable.

Perfectly tolerable, I dare say,
but not handsome enough to tempt me.

You'd better return to your partner
and enjoy her smiles.

You're wasting your time with me.

Count your blessings, Lizzie.

If he liked you,
you'd have to talk to him.

Precisely.

As it is, I wouldn't dance with him
for all of Derbyshire,

let alone the miserable half.

I nearly went the wrong way.

Wait.

- I enjoyed that so much, Miss Lucas.
- How well you dance.

Mrs. Bennet, I've enjoyed this better
than any other dance I've been to before.

- Jane is a splendid dancer, is she not?
- Oh, she is indeed.

Your friend, Miss Lucas,
is a most amusing young woman.

Oh, yes. I adore her.

It is a pity
she's not more handsome.

Mama.

But Lizzie will never admit
that she's plain.

Of course it's my Jane who is considered
the beauty of the county.

No, Mama, please.

When she was only 15 there was a gentleman
so much in love with her that I was sure

he would make her an offer.

However, he did write her
some very pretty verses.

And that put paid to it.

I wonder who first discovered
the power of poetry in driving away love?

I thought that poetry
was the food of love.

Of a fine, stout love, it may.

But if it is only a vague inclination,

I'm convinced one poor sonnet
will kill it stone dead.

So what do you recommend
to encourage affection?

Dancing.

Even if one's partner is barely tolerable.

Mr. Bingley is just
what a young man ought to be.

- Sensible, good humored...
- Handsome, conveniently rich.

You know I do not believe marriage

- should be driven by a lot of money.
- I agree.

Only the deepest love
will persuade me into matrimony,

which is why I will end up an old maid.

Do you really believe he liked me, Lizzie?

Jane, he danced with you most of the night
and stared at you for the rest of it.

But I give you leave to like him.
You've liked many a stupider person.

Now, you're a great deal too apt
to like people in general, you know.

All the world is good
and agreeable in your eyes.

Not his friend.

Oh, I still can't believe
what he said about you.

Mr. Darcy?

I could more easily forgive
his vanity had he not wounded mine.

But no matter.
I doubt we shall ever speak again.

And then
he danced the third with Miss Lucas.

We were all there, dear.

Oh, poor thing.
It is a shame she's not more handsome.

There's a spinster in the making
and no mistake.

The fourth, with a Miss King,
of little standing,

and the fifth, again with Jane.

If he had any compassion for me,

he would've sprained
his ankle in the first set.

Mr. Bennet, the way you carry on,
anyone would think

our girls look forward
to a grand inheritance.

When you die, Mr. Bennet,
which may in fact be very soon,

our girls will be left
without a roof over their head,

nor a penny to their name.

Oh, Mama, please,
it's 10:00 in the morning.

A letter addressed to Miss Bennet,
ma'am, from Netherfield Hall.

Praise the Lord.

We are saved.

Make haste, Jane.
Make haste.

Oh, happy day.

It is from Caroline Bingley.

She has invited me to dine with her.

Her brother will be dining out.

Dining out?

- Can I take the carriage?
- Where? Let me see that.

It is too far to walk.

This is unaccountable of him.
Dining out, indeed.

Mama. The carriage? For Jane?

Certainly not.

She'll go on horseback.

- Horseback?
- Horseback?

Lizzie.

Now she'll have to stay the night.
Exactly as I predicted.

Good grief, woman.

Your skills in the art of matchmaking
are positively occult.

Though I don't think, Mama,

you can reasonably
take credit for making it rain.

"My friends will not hear
of me returning home until I'm better.

"Do not be alarmed."
"Excepting a sore throat, a fever,

and a headache, there is
nothing much wrong with me."

This is ridiculous.

Well, if Jane does die,
it'll be a comfort to know

it was in pursuit of Mr. Bingley.

People do not die of colds.

Though she may well perish
with the shame of having such a mother.

I must go to Netherfield at once.

Apparently, Lady Bathurst
is redecorating her ballroom

in the French style.

A little unpatriotic, don't you think?

Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Good Lord, Miss Elizabeth.
Did you walk here?

I did.

- I'm so sorry. How is my sister?
- She's upstairs.

Thank you.

My goodness,
did you see her hem?

Six inches deep in mud.
She looked positively medieval.

I feel such a terrible imposition.
They're being so kind to me.

Don't worry.
I don't know who is more pleased

at your being here, Mama or Mr. Bingley.

Aw.

Thank you for tending to my sister
so diligently.

She is in far better comfort here
than she would've been at home.

It's a pleasure.

Oh. I mean, it's… Sorry.

Not a pleasure that she's ill,
of course not.

It's a pleasure that she's here,
being ill.

Not going to be famous, our pig.

Back of the back, not related
to the learned pig of Norwich.

Now, that pig is...

- Mr. Bennet.
- Yes.

It's all going according to plan.

He's half in love with her already.

- Who is, blossom?
- Mr. Bingley.

And he doesn't mind a bit
that she hasn't a penny,

for he has more than enough
for the two of them.

- How will we meet them?
- It's easy.

Wait for me.

You drop something,
they pick it up,

and then you're introduced.

Officers.

You write uncommonly fast, Mr. Darcy.

You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.

How many letters you must have
occasion to write, Mr. Darcy.

Letters of business, too.
How odious I should think them.

It is fortunate, then,
that they fall to my lot

instead of yours.

Do tell your sister
that I long to see her.

I've already told her once,
by your desire.

I do dote on her.

I was quite in raptures

at her beautiful
little design for a table.

Perhaps you'll
give me leave to defer your raptures

till I write again?

I have not room enough to do them justice.

It's amazing you young ladies
have the patience to be so accomplished.

What do you mean, Charles?

You all paint tables, and play the piano,
and embroider cushions.

I never heard of a young lady,
but people say she is accomplished.

The word is applied too liberally.

I cannot boast of knowing more than half
a dozen women who are truly accomplished.

Nor I, to be sure.

Goodness. You must comprehend
a great deal in the idea.

- I do.
- Absolutely.

She must have a thorough knowledge
of music, singing, drawing,

dancing, and the modern languages,
to deserve the word.

And something in her air
and manner of walking.

And, of course, she must improve
her mind by extensive reading.

I'm no longer surprised at your
knowing only six accomplished women.

I rather wonder now at your knowing any.

Are you so severe on your own sex?

I never saw such a woman.

She would certainly be
a fearsome thing to behold.

Miss Elizabeth,
let us take a turn about the room.

It's refreshing, is it not,
after sitting so long in one attitude?

And it is a small kind
of accomplishment, I suppose.

Will you not join us, Mr. Darcy?

You can only have two motives, Caroline,
and I would interfere with either.

What can he mean?

Our surest way of disappointing him
will be to ask him nothing about it.

But do tell us, Mr. Darcy.

Either you are in each other's confidence
and you have secret affairs to discuss,

or you are conscious that your figures

appear to the greatest advantage
by walking.

If the first, I should get in your way.

If the second, I can admire you
much better from here.

Shocking.

How shall we punish him for such a speech?

- We could always laugh at him.
- Oh, no, Mr. Darcy is not to be teased.

Are you too proud, Mr. Darcy?

And would you consider pride
a fault or a virtue?

That I couldn't say.

Because we're doing our best
to find fault in you.

Maybe it's that I find it hard to forgive
the follies and vices of others,

or their offenses against me.

My good opinion,
once lost, is lost forever.

Oh, dear, I cannot tease you about that.

What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.

A family trait, I think.

A Mrs. Bennet, a Miss Bennet,
a Miss Bennet, and a Miss Bennet, sir.

Oh, for heaven's sake, are we to receive
every Bennet in the country?

What an excellent room you have, sir.

Such expensive furnishings.

Oh, I do hope you intend
to stay here, Mr. Bingley.

Absolutely.
I find the country very diverting.

Don't you agree, Darcy?

I find it perfectly adequate,

even if society's
a little less varied than in town.

Less varied? Not at all.

We dine with four and 20 families
of all shapes and sizes.

Sir William Lucas, for instance,
is a very agreeable man

and a good deal less self-important
than some people half his rank.

Mr. Bingley,
is it true that you've promised

- to hold a ball here at Netherfield?
- A ball?

It would be an excellent way
to meet new friends.

You could invite the militia.
They're excellent company.

- Oh, do hold a ball.
- Kitty.

When your sister is recovered,
you shall name the day.

I think a ball
is a perfectly irrational way

to gain new acquaintance.

It would be better if conversation,
instead of dancing,

were the order of the day.

Indeed, much more rational,
but rather less like a ball.

Thank you, Mary.

What a fine, imposing place
it is, to be sure, is it not, my dears?

There's no house
to equal it in the county.

- Mr. Darcy.
- Miss Bennet.

There she is.

Mr. Bingley, I don't know
how to thank you.

You're welcome any time
you feel the least bit poorly.

Thank you for your stimulating company.
It has been most instructive.

Not at all. The pleasure is all mine.

- Mr. Darcy.
- Miss Elizabeth.

And then, there was one
with great long lashes like a cow.

Did you see him? He looked right at me.

Ask Mrs. Hill
to order us a sirloin, Betsy.

Just the one, mind,
we're not made of money.

I hope, my dear,
you've ordered a good dinner today.

I have reason to expect
an addition to our family party.

His name's Mr. Collins,
the dreaded cousin.

- Who's to inherit.
- Indeed. Everything, apparently.

Even my piano stool
belongs to Mr. Collins.

When?

He may turn us out of the house
as soon as he pleases.

But why?

Because the estate passes directly
to him and not to us poor females.

Mr. Collins, at your service.

What a superbly featured room
and what excellent boiled potatoes.

Many years since I've had
such an exemplary vegetable.

To which of my fair cousins

should I compliment the excellence
of the cooking?

Mr. Collins, we are perfectly able
to keep a cook.

Excellent.

I'm very pleased
the estate can afford such a living.

I am honored to have as my patroness,
Lady Catherine de Bourg.

You've heard of her, I presume?

My small rectory abuts her estate,
Rosings Park,

and she often condescends
to drive by my humble dwelling

in her little phaeton and ponies.

Does she have any family?

One daughter, the heiress of Rosings
and very extensive property.

I've often observed to Lady Catherine

that her daughter seemed born
to be a duchess,

for she has all the superior graces
of elevated rank.

These are the kind of
little delicate compliments

which are always acceptable to the ladies

and which I conceive myself
particularly bound to pay.

How happy for you, Mr. Collins,

to possess the talent for flattering
with such delicacy.

Do these pleasing attentions
proceed from the impulse of the moment,

or are they the result of previous study?

They arise
from what is passing at the time,

and though I do sometimes amuse myself

with arranging
such little elegant compliments,

I always wish to give them
as unstudied an air as possible.

Oh, believe me, no one would suspect
your manners to be rehearsed.

After dinner, I thought I might read
to you all for an hour or two.

I have with me Fordyce's Sermons,

which speak very eloquently
on all matters moral.

Are you familiar
with Fordyce's Sermons, Miss Bennet?

Mrs. Bennet, you do know
that I've been bestowed

by the good grace
of Lady Catherine de Bourg

a parsonage of no mean size.

I have become aware of the fact.

Well, it is my avowed hope that soon

I may find a mistress for it,
and I have to inform you

that the eldest Miss Bennet
has captured my special attention.

Oh, Mr. Collins,

unfortunately, it is incumbent upon me

to hint that the eldest Miss Bennet
is very soon to be engaged.

Engaged?

But Miss Lizzie, next to her
in both age and beauty,

would make anyone an excellent partner.

Do not you agree, Mr. Collins?

Indeed.

Indeed.

Very agreeable alternative.

Mr. Collins is the sort of man
who makes you despair at the entire sex.

Yours, I believe.

- Oh, Mr. Wickham, how perfect you are.
- He picked up my handkerchief, too.

Did you drop yours on purpose, Lizzie?

- Mr. Wickham's a lieutenant.
- An enchanted lieutenant.

What are you up to, Liddy?

We were looking for some ribbon.

White, for the ball.

Shall we all look
for some ribbon together?

- Good afternoon, Mr. James.
- Good afternoon, Miss Lydia.

- Miss Bennet.
- I shan't even browse.

I can't be trusted.
I have very poor taste in ribbons.

Only a man truly confident
of himself would admit to that.

No, it's true. And buckles.

When it comes to buckles, I'm lost.

Dear, oh, dear. You must be
the shame of the regiment.

- A laughingstock.
- What do your superiors do with you?

Ignore me.

I'm of next to no importance,
so it's easily done.

Lizzie, lend me some money.

You already owe me a fortune, Liddy.

- Allow me to oblige.
- Oh, no, Mr. Wickham, please.

I insist.

- I pity the French.
- What are they talking about?

- So do I.
- I don't know.

- Look, Mr. Bingley.
- Mr. Bingley!

I was just on my way to your house.

Mr. Bingley, how do you like
my ribbons for your ball?

Very beautiful.

She is. Look at her. She's blooming.

Oh, Lydia.

Be sure to invite Mr. Wickham.
He is a credit to his profession.

Lydia, you can't invite people
to other people's balls.

Of course you must come, Mr. Wickham.

If you'll excuse me, ladies.
Enjoy the day.

Do you plan to go
to the Netherfield ball, Mr. Wickham?

Perhaps.

How long has Mr. Darcy been a guest there?

- About a month.
- Hmm.

Forgive me,
but are you acquainted with him?

With Mr. Darcy?

Indeed. I've been connected
with his family since infancy.

You may well be surprised, Miss Elizabeth,

especially given our cold greeting
this afternoon.

Well, I hope that your plans
in favor of Meryton

will not be affected by
your relations with the gentleman.

Oh, no, it is not for me
to be driven away.

If he wishes to avoid seeing me,
he must go,

not I.

I must ask, Mr. Wickham,

what is the manner
of your disapproval of Mr. Darcy?

My father managed his estate.

We grew up together, Darcy and I.

His father treated me like a second son.

Loved me like a son.

We were both with him the day he died.

With his last breath,

his father bequeathed me
the rectory in his estate.

He knew I had my heart set
on joining the church.

But Darcy ignored his wishes
and gave the living to another man.

- But why?
- Jealousy.

His father…

Well, he loved me better
and Darcy couldn't stand it.

- How cruel.
- So, now I'm a poor foot soldier,

too lowly even to be noticed.

Oh!

Breathe in.

I can't any more. You're hurting.

Betsy.

Betsy.

I still think there must have been
a misunderstanding.

Oh, Jane, do you never
think ill of anybody?

Well, how could Mr. Darcy do such a thing?

I'll discover the truth from Mr. Bingley
at the ball this evening.

If it is not true,
let Mr. Darcy contradict it himself.

Till he does,
I hope never to encounter him.

Poor, unfortunate Mr. Wickham.

On the contrary,
Wickham is twice the man Darcy is.

And let us hope,
a rather more willing dancer.

Oh, there they are. Look.

Jane Martin is here tonight.

May I say what an immense pleasure it is

- to see you again, Mr. Bingley.
- Mrs. Bennet.

- Miss Bingley.
- Charming.

I'm… I'm so pleased you're here.

So am I.

And… how are you?

Miss Elizabeth,
are you looking for someone?

No. No, not at all.

I was just admiring the general splendor.

It is breath-taking, Mr. Bingley.

Good.

You might at least have

passed a few pleasantries
with Mr. Bingley.

I dare say I've never met
a more pleasant gentleman

in all my years.

Did you see how he dotes on her?

Dear Jane. Always doing
what's best for her family.

- Charlotte.
- Lizzie.

- Have you seen Mr. Wickham?
- No. Perhaps he is through here.

Lizzie. Mr. Wickham is not here.

Apparently he's been detained.

Detained where? He must be here.

There you are.

Mr. Collins.

Perhaps you will do me the honor,
Miss Elizabeth?

Oh.

I did not think you danced, Mr. Collins.

I do not think it incompatible
with the office of a clergyman

to indulge in such an innocent diversion.

In fact, several people,
well, Her Ladyship included,

have complimented me
on my lightness of foot.

Apparently, your Mr. Wickham
has been called on some business to town.

To be sure, dancing is of little
consequence to me, but it does…

it does harbor the opportunity to lavish…

To lavish upon one's partner…

My informer tells me
he was less inclined...

…delicate attentions, which is my...

That he'd be less inclined to be engaged,
were it not for the…

Were it not for the presence
of a certain gentleman.

Which is my primary object of the evening.

That gentleman barely warrants the name.

It is my intention, if I may be so bold,

to remain close to you
throughout the evening.

Oh.

May I have the next dance, Miss Elizabeth?

You may.

Did I just agree to dance with Mr. Darcy?

I daresay you will find him
very amiable, Lizzie.

It would be most inconvenient,

since I have sworn
to loathe him for all eternity.

- I love this dance.
- Indeed. Most invigorating.

It is your turn
to say something, Mr. Darcy.

I talked about the dance,
now you ought to remark

on the size of the room,
or the number of couples.

I am perfectly happy to oblige.

Please advise me
of what you would like most to hear.

That reply will do for present.

Perhaps by and by, I may observe

that private balls are much pleasanter
than public ones.

For now we may remain silent.

Do you talk, as a rule, while dancing?

No.

No, I prefer
to be unsociable and taciturn.

Makes it all so much more enjoyable,
don't you think?

Tell me, do you and your sisters
very often walk to Meryton?

Yes, we often walk to Meryton.

It's a great opportunity
to meet new people.

In fact, when you met us,
we'd just had the pleasure

of forming a new acquaintance.

Mr. Wickham is blessed
with such happy manners,

he is sure of making friends.

Whether he's capable
of retaining them is less certain.

He's been so unfortunate
as to lose your friendship.

And I daresay
that is an irreversible event?

It is. Why do you ask such a question?

To make out your character, Mr. Darcy.

- And what have you discovered?
- Very little.

I hear such different accounts
of you as puzzle me exceedingly.

I hope to afford you
more clarity in the future.

Is that Mr. Darcy of Pemberley
in Derbyshire?

I believe so.

I must make myself known
to him immediately.

- But, sir...
- He is the nephew of Lady Catherine.

Mr. Collins, he will
consider it an impertinence.

Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy.

Good evening.

What interesting relatives you have,
Miss Elizabeth.

I believe we have
a mutual acquaintance

in the personage
of Lady Catherine de Bourg?

Mary dear, you've delighted us
long enough.

Let the other young ladies have a turn.

I had her since I was a child,
and then she died.

Now I have a beautiful gray.

Of course Caroline's a much better rider
than I am. Of course.

Oh, yes, we fully expect
a most advantageous marriage.

And my Jane marrying this young man

must throw her sisters
in the way of other rich men.

Ah.

Clearly my family are having a competition

to see who can expose
themselves to the most ridicule.

Well, at least Bingley has not noticed.

- No. I think he likes her very much.
- But does she like him?

There are few of us who are secure enough

to be really in love
without proper encouragement.

Bingley likes her enormously,

but might not do more
if she does not help him on.

But she's just shy and modest.

If he cannot perceive her regard,
he is a fool.

We are all fools in love.

He does not know her character as we do.

She should move fast, snap him up.

There is plenty of time for us
to get to know them

after we're married.

Can't help feeling
that at any point this evening

someone's going to produce a piglet
and make us chase it.

Oh, dear.

I do apologize, sir. I'm awfully sorry.

Do forgive me.

Mary.

There, there. There, there.

- I've been practicing it all week.
- I know, my dear.

I hate balls!

Mr. Bennet, wake up.

Oh, I've never had such
a good time in my life.

Charles, you cannot be serious.

We'll be having
a wedding here at Netherfield

in less than three months,
if you ask me, Mr. Bennet.

Mr. Bennet!

Mary, please.

Thank you, Mr. Hill.

Mrs. Bennet, I was hoping,

if it would not trouble you,
that I might solicit

a private audience with Miss Elizabeth
in the course of the morning.

Oh, yes. Certainly.

Lizzie will be very happy indeed.
Everyone, out.

Mr. Collins would like a private
audience with your sister.

No, wait, please. I beg you.

He can't have anything to say to me
that nobody can hear.

No nonsense, Lizzie.
I desire you will stay where you are.

Everyone else to the drawing room.

- Mr. Bennet?
- But…

Now.

Jane. Jane.

Jane, please, don't.

- Jane?
- Jane.

Papa, stay.

Dear Miss Elizabeth,

I am sure my attentions have been
too marked to be mistaken.

Almost as soon as I entered the house,

I singled you out as the companion
of my future life.

But, before I am run away
with my feelings,

perhaps I may state
my reasons for marrying.

Firstly, that it is the duty
of a clergyman

to set the example
of matrimony in his parish.

Secondly, that I am convinced
it will add greatly to my happiness.

And thirdly, that it is at the urging
of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine,

that I select a wife.

My object in coming to Longbourn
was to choose such a one

from among Mr. Bennet's daughters,
for I am to inherit the estate…

and such an alliance will surely…

suit everyone.

And now, nothing remains but for me

to assure you
in the most animated language,

- of the violence of my affections.
- Mr. Collins.

And that no reproach
on the subject of fortune

will cross my lips once we're married.

You are too hasty, sir.
You forget that I have given no answer.

I must add that Lady Catherine
will thoroughly approve

when I speak to her of your modesty,
economy, and other…

amiable qualities.

Sir, I am honored by your proposal,
but I regret that I must decline it.

I know ladies don't seek
to seem too eager...

Mr. Collins, I am perfectly serious.

You could not make me happy,
and I'm convinced

I'm the last woman in the world
who could make you happy.

I flatter myself, cousin, that
your refusal is merely a natural delicacy.

Besides, you should take into account
that despite the manifold attractions,

it's by no means certain
that another offer of marriage

- may ever be made to you.
- Mr. Collins.

So I must conclude that you simply seek
to increase my love by suspense…

Sir.

…according to the usual practice
of elegant females.

Sir.

I am not the sort of female
to torment a respectable man.

Please understand me, I cannot accept you.

Headstrong, foolish child.

Don't worry, Mr. Collins.

We'll have this little hiccup
dealt with immediately.

Lizzie!

Lizzie!

Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet.

We're all in an uproar.

You must come
and make Lizzie marry Mr. Collins.

Huh?

Mr. Collins has proposed to Lizzie.
But she vows she will not have him.

And now the danger is
Mr. Collins may not have Lizzie.

- Well, what am I to do?
- Well, come and talk to her.

Now.

Uh…

Tell her you insist upon them marrying.

Papa, please.

- You will have this house.
- I can't marry him.

- And save your sisters from destitution.
- I can't.

Go back now
and say you've changed your mind!

- No!
- Think of your family!

- You cannot make me!
- Mr. Bennet, say something!

So…

your mother insists
on you marrying Mr. Collins.

Yes, or I shall never see her again.

Well, Lizzie, from this day onward,

you must be a stranger
to one of your parents.

Who will maintain you
when your father is dead?

Your mother will never see you again
if you do not marry Mr. Collins,

and I will never see you again if you do.

- Mr. Bennet!
- Thank you, Papa.

Ungrateful child.
I shall never speak to you again!

Not that I take much pleasure in talking.

People who suffer as I do
from nervous complaints

can have no pleasure
in talking to anybody.

Jane.

What's the matter?

Jane?

I don't understand what would
take him from Netherfield.

Why would he not know
when he was to return?

Read it. I don't mind.

"Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister,

and we are scarcely less eager
to meet her again."

"I really do not think Georgiana Darcy

has her equal for beauty, elegance,
and accomplishments,

so much so I must hope
to hereafter call her my sister."

Is that not clear enough?

Caroline sees that
her brother is in love with you

and has taken him off
to persuade him otherwise.

But I know her to be incapable
of willfully deceiving anyone.

It's far more likely that he does not
love me and never has.

He loves you, Jane. Do not give up.

Go to our aunt and uncle's in London,

let it be known you are there,
and I am sure he will come to you.

Give my love to my sister,
and try not to be a burden, dear.

Poor Jane.

Still, a girl likes to be crossed in love
now and then.

It gives her something to think of,

and a sort of distinction
amongst her companions.

I'm sure that will cheer her up, Papa.

Well, it's your turn now, Lizzie.

You turned down Collins.

You're free to go off
and be jilted yourself.

What about Mr. Wickham?

Well, he's a pleasant fellow
and he'd do the job credibly.

Father.

And you have an affectionate mother…

who would make the most of it.

- Charlotte.
- My dear Lizzie.

I've come here to tell you the news.

Mr. Collins and I are engaged.

- Engaged?
- Yes.

To be married?

Yes, of course, Lizzie.
What other kind of engaged is there?

Oh, for heaven's sake, Lizzie,
don't look at me like that.

There was no earthly reason

why I shouldn't be
as happy with him as any other.

- But he's ridiculous.
- Oh, hush.

Not all of us can afford to be romantic.

I've been offered
a comfortable home, and protection.

- There's a lot to be thankful for.
- Charlotte...

I'm 27 years old.

I've no money and no prospects.

I'm already a burden to my parents.

And I'm frightened.

So don't judge me, Lizzie.
Don't you dare judge me.

Dear Charlotte,
thank you for your letter.

I'm so glad the house, furniture,
and roads are all to your taste

and that Lady Catherine's behavior
is friendly and obliging.

What with your departure,
Jane's to London,

and the militia to the North
with the colorful Mr. Wickham,

I must confess, the view from where I sit
has been rather gray.

As for the favor you ask,
it is no favor at all.

I would be happy to visit you
at your earliest convenience.

Welcome to our humble abode.

My wife encourages me to spend
as much time in the garden as possible

for the sake of my health.

My dear, I think our guest is tired
after her journey.

I plan many improvements, of course.

I intend to throw out a bough
and plant a lime walk.

Oh, yes, I flatter myself

that any young lady would be happy
to be the mistress of such a house.

We shan't be disturbed here.

This parlor is for my own particular use.

Oh, Lizzie, it's such a pleasure
to run my own home.

Charlotte, come here.

- What's happened?
- Charlotte!

Has the pig escaped again?

Oh, it's Lady Catherine.
Come and see, Lizzie.

Great news. Great news.

We've received an invitation
to visit Rosings this evening

from Lady Catherine de Bourg.

How wonderful.

Do not make yourself uneasy,
my dear cousin, about your apparel.

Just put on whatever
you've brought that's best.

Lady Catherine's never
been averse to the truly humble.

One of the most extraordinary
sights in all of Europe, is it not?

The glazing alone cost upwards of £20,000.

Come along. Come along.

I think
a little later we'll play cards.

- Your Ladyship.
- Ah!

Miss de Bourg.

So you are Elizabeth Bennet?

I am, Your Ladyship.

Hmm.

This is my daughter.

It's very kind of you

- to ask us to dine, Lady Catherine.
- The rug alone cost upwards of £300.

Mr. Darcy.

What are you doing here?

Mr. Darcy, I had no idea we had the honor.

Miss Elizabeth, I'm a guest here.

You know my nephew?

Yes, ma'am, I had the pleasure
of meeting your nephew in Hertfordshire.

Colonel Fitzwilliam. How do you do?

Mr. Collins, you can't sit
next to your wife. Move.

Over there.

Harvey, I wonder,
could you get me a fish course?

I trust your family
is in good health, Miss Elizabeth?

They are, thank you.

My eldest sister is currently in London.

Perhaps you happened to see her there?

I haven't been fortunate enough, no.

Do you play the pianoforte, Miss Bennet?

A little, ma'am, and very poorly.

Oh.

Do you draw?

No, not at all.

Your sisters, do they draw?

- Not one.
- That's very strange.

I suppose you had no opportunity.

Your mother should've taken you
to town every spring

for the benefit of the masters.

I'm sure my mother wouldn't have minded,
but my father hates town.

- Has your governess left you?
- We never had a governess.

No governess?

Five daughters brought up at home
without a governess.

I never heard such a thing.

Your mother must have been
quite a slave to your education.

Not at all, Lady Catherine.

Your younger sisters,
are they out in society?

Yes, ma'am. All.

All? What, all five out at once?

Oh, that's very odd.
And you only the second.

The younger ones out
before the elders are married.

Your youngest sisters must be very young.

Yes, my youngest is not 16.

But I think it would be very hard
on younger sisters

not to have their share of amusement
because the elder is still unmarried.

It would hardly encourage
sisterly affection.

Upon my word,

you give your opinion very decidedly
for so young a person.

Pray, what is your age?

With three younger sisters grown up,

Your Ladyship can
hardly expect me to own to it.

Come, Miss Bennet, and play for us.

No, I beg you.

For music is my delight.

In fact, there are few people in England

who have more true enjoyment
of music than myself…

or better natural taste.

If I had ever learnt,

I should have been a great proficient.

So would Anne,
if her health would have allowed her.

Lady Catherine, I'm not afflicted
with false modesty.

When I say I play poorly...

Come, come, Lizzie,
Her Ladyship demands it.

Thank you.

How does Georgiana get along, Darcy?

- She plays very well.
- I hope she practices.

No excellence can be acquired
without constant practice.

I've told Mrs. Collins this.

Though you have no instrument of your own,
you're very welcome to come to Rosings

and play on the pianoforte
in the housekeeper's room.

Oh, I thank you, Your Ladyship.

You'll be in nobody's way
in that part of the house.

You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy,
by coming in all your state to hear me,

but I won't be alarmed
even if your sister does play so well.

I'm well enough acquainted with you,
Miss Elizabeth,

to know that I cannot alarm you,
even should I wish it.

What was my friend like in Hertfordshire?

You really care to know?

Prepare yourself for something
very dreadful.

The first time I saw him at the assembly,
he danced with nobody at all.

Even though gentlemen were scarce

and there was more than one young
lady sitting down without a partner.

I knew nobody beyond my own party.

Oh, and nobody
can be introduced in a ballroom.

Fitzwilliam, I need you.

I do not have the talent

of conversing easily with people
I have never met before.

Perhaps you should take
your aunt's advice and practice.

Dear Jane…

Mr. Darcy.

Please, do be seated.

I'm afraid Mr. and Mrs. Collins
have gone on business to the village.

This is a charming house.

I believe my aunt did a great deal
to it when Mr. Collins first arrived.

I believe so.

She could not have bestowed her
kindness on a more grateful subject.

- Shall I call for some tea?
- No. Thank you.

Good day, Miss Elizabeth.
It's been a pleasure.

What on earth have you done
to poor Mr. Darcy?

I have no idea.

Every mind
must have some counselor

to whom it may apply
for consolation in distress.

There are many conveniences
which others can supply

and which we cannot procure for ourselves.

I have now
principally in view those objects

which are only to be obtained
through intercourse.

Forgive me.

Through the intercourse
of friendship, or civility.

On such occasions,
the proud man steps forth

to meet you not with the cordiality
of affection,

but with the suspicion of one
who reconnoiters an enemy…

So, how long do you plan to stay
in Kent, Colonel?

As long as Darcy chooses.
I'm at his disposal.

Everyone appears to be at his disposal.

I wonder he doesn't marry and secure
a lasting convenience of that kind.

She would be a lucky woman.

Really?

Darcy is a most loyal companion.

From what I heard on our journey here,

he recently came to the rescue
of one of his friends just in time.

What happened?

He saved the man
from an imprudent marriage.

Who was the man?

His closest friend, Charles Bingley.

Did Mr. Darcy give a reason
for this interference?

There were apparently
strong objections to the lady.

What kind of objections?

Her lack of fortune?

I think it was her family
that was considered unsuitable.

So he separated them.

I believe so. I know nothing else.

…in need to every man
which is bound

not to think of himself more highly…

Miss Elizabeth.

I have struggled in vain
and I can bear it no longer.

These past months have been a torment.

I came to Rosings
with the single object of seeing you.

I had to see you.

I've fought against my better
judgment, my family's expectation,

the inferiority of your birth,
my rank, circumstance, everything,

and I'm willing to put them aside
and ask you to end my agony.

- I don't understand.
- I love you.

Most ardently.

Please do me the honor
of accepting my hand.

Sir, I… I appreciate the struggle
you have been through

and I am very sorry
to have caused you pain.

Believe me, it was unconsciously done.

- Is this your reply?
- Yes, sir.

Are you… are you laughing at me?

- No.
- Are you rejecting me?

I'm sure that the feelings, which you say,
have hindered your regard

will help you in overcoming it.

Might I ask why,

with so little endeavor at civility,
I am thus repulsed?

I might as well inquire why,
with so evident a design of insulting me,

you told me that you liked me

- against your better judgment!
- No...

If I was uncivil,
then that is some excuse!

But I have other reasons. You know I have.

What reasons?

Do you think that anything might
tempt me to accept the man

who has ruined, perhaps forever,
the happiness of a most beloved sister?

Do you deny it, Mr. Darcy?

That you separated a young couple
who loved each other,

exposing your friend to the center
of the world for caprice

and my sister to its derision
for disappointed hopes.

And involving them both in misery
of the acutest kind?

I do not deny it.

How could you do it?

Because your sister was
indifferent to him.

- Indifferent?
- I watched them most carefully

and saw he was more attached than her.

- Because she's shy.
- Bingley, too, is modest

and felt she didn't feel strongly for him.

- Because you suggested it.
- I did it for his own good.

My sister hardly shows
her true feelings to me!

I suppose you suspect that his…
his fortune had some bearing...

No! I wouldn't do your sister
the dishonor!

- Though it was suggested...
- What was?

It was made perfectly clear
that an advantageous marriage...

- Did my sister give that impression?
- No! No!

No. There was, however, I have to admit,
the matter of your family.

Our want of connection?

Mr. Bingley wasn't vexed about that.

- No, it was more than that.
- How?

It's the lack of propriety

shown by your mother, younger sisters,
even, on occasion, your father.

Forgive me.

You and your sister
I must exclude from this.

And what about Mr. Wickham?

Mr. Wickham?

What excuse can you give
for your behavior towards him?

You're interested
in that gentleman's concerns.

He told me of his misfortunes.

Oh, yes, his misfortunes
have been very great indeed.

You ruin his chances,
and yet you treat him with sarcasm?

So this is your opinion of me.

Thank you for explaining so fully.

Perhaps you'd have overlooked them
had not your pride

- been hurt by my honesty…
- My pride?

…in admitting scruples
about our relationship.

Could you expect me to rejoice
in the inferiority of your circumstances?

And those are the words of a gentleman.

From the first moment I met you,
your arrogance and conceit,

your selfish disdain
for the feelings of others

made me realize that
you were the last man in the world

I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.

Forgive me, madam,
for taking up so much of your time.

I came to leave you this.

I shall not renew the sentiments
which were so disgusting to you,

but if I may, I will address the two
offenses you have laid against me.

My father loved Mr. Wickham as a son.

In consequence,
he left him a generous living.

But upon my father's death,
Mr. Wickham announced

he had no intention of taking orders.

He demanded the value of the living
which he was given,

and which he gambled away within weeks.

He then wrote demanding more money,
which I refused,

after which he severed all acquaintance.

He came back to see us last summer,

at which point he declared
passionate love for my sister,

whom he tried to persuade
to elope with him.

She is to inherit £30,000.

When it was made clear

he would never receive a penny
of that inheritance,

he disappeared.

I will not attempt to convey
the depth of Georgiana's despair.

She was 15 years old.

As to the other matter,
that of your sister and Mr. Bingley…

though the motives which governed me
may to you appear insufficient,

they were in the service of a friend.

Lizzie?

Are you all right?

I hardly know.

Lizzie, how fortunate you have arrived.

Your aunt and uncle are here
to deliver Jane from London.

- How is Jane?
- She's in the drawing room.

I'm quite over him, Lizzie.

If he passed me in the street,
I'd hardly notice.

London is so diverting.

- Jane.
- It's true.

There's so much to entertain.

What news from Kent?

Nothing.

At least, not much to entertain.

Lizzie. Lizzie, tell Mama! Tell her!

Oh, Kitty, stop making such a fuss.

Why didn't she ask me as well?

She can't afford it.

- Because I'm better company.
- What's the matter?

I've as much right as Lydia.

If I could go to Brighton.

- I'm two years older.
- Let's all go.

Lydia's been invited to go
to Brighton with the Forsters.

A little sea-bathing
would set me up very nicely.

I shall dine
with the officers every night.

Please, Papa, don't let her go.

Lydia will never be easy
until she's exposed herself

in some public place or other,

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

as under the present circumstances.

If you, dear father,
do not take the trouble to check her,

she will be fixed forever
as the silliest and most determined flirt

who ever made her family ridiculous.

And Kitty will follow, as she always does.

Lizzie, we shall have no peace
until she goes.

Peace. Is that really all you care about?

Colonel Forster is a sensible man.

He will keep her out of any real mischief.

And she is far too poor
to be an object of prey to anyone.

- Father, it's dangerous.
- I am certain

the officers will find women
better worth their while.

Let us hope, in fact,
that her stay in Brighton

will teach her her own insignificance.

At any rate,
she can hardly grow any worse.

If she does,

we'd be obliged to lock her up
for the rest of her life.

Lizzie dear, you'd be welcome
to accompany us.

The Peak District
is not Brighton

and officers are very thin on the ground,
which may influence your decision.

Come to the Peak District
with us, Lizzie, and get some fresh air.

The glories of nature.

What are men compared
to rocks and mountains?

Believe me, men are either eaten up
with arrogance or stupidity.

If they are amiable, they're so easily led

they have no minds
of their own whatsoever.

Oh, take care, my love,
that savors strongly of bitterness.

I saw Mr. Darcy when I was at Rosings.

Why did you not tell me?

Did he mention Mr. Bingley?

No.

No, he did not.

Oh, what are men compared
to rocks and mountains?

Or carriages that work.

Where exactly are we?

I think we're quite close to Pemberley.

- Mr. Darcy's home?
- That's the fellow.

Very well stocked lake.
I've a hankering to see it.

Oh, no, let's not.

Oh, he's so…

I'd rather not. He's so… He's so…

- So what?
- He's so rich.

By heavens, Lizzie, what a snob you are.

Objecting to poor Mr. Darcy
because of his wealth.

The poor man can't help it.

He won't be there anyway.
These great men are never at home.

My goodness.

Keep up.

Is your master
much at Pemberley?

Not as much as I would
wish, sir, for he dearly loves it here.

If he should marry,
you might see more of him.

Yes, madam,
but I do not know when that will be.

He's a lot like his father.

And most generous.

When my husband was ill,
Mr. Darcy couldn't do enough.

He didn't fuss.

He just organized the servants for me.

This is he, Mr. Darcy.

A handsome face.

Lizzie, is it a true likeness?

Does the young lady know Mr. Darcy?

Only a little.

Do you not think him a handsome man, miss?

Yes.

Yes, I daresay he is.

This is his sister, Miss Georgiana.

Is she at home?

Miss Elizabeth!

I thought you were in London.

No.

No, I'm not.

No.

- I came back a day early.
- We wouldn't have come

- had we known you were here.
- Some business with my steward.

I'm in Derbyshire with my aunt and uncle.

And are you having a pleasant trip?

Very pleasant.

- Tomorrow we go to Matlock.
- Tomorrow?

- Are you staying at Lambton?
- Yes. At the Rose and Crown.

Yes.

I'm so sorry to intrude.

They said that the house
was open for visitors. I had no idea…

- May I see you back to the village?
- No!

- I'm very fond of walking.
- Yes.

Yes, I know.

Goodbye, Mr. Darcy.

This way, sir.

Are you sure you wouldn't like to join us?

- Thank you again, sir. Goodbye.
- Goodbye. Goodbye.

Lizzie, we've just met Mr. Darcy.

You didn't tell us that you'd seen him.

He's asked us to dine with him tomorrow.

He was very civil, was he not?

- Very civil.
- Not at all how you had painted him.

To dine with him?

There's something pleasant
about his mouth when he speaks.

You don't mind delaying our journey
another day, do you?

He particularly
wants you to meet his sister.

His sister?

Miss Elizabeth!

My sister, Miss Georgiana.

My brother has told me so much about you.

I feel as if we are friends already.

Well, thank you.
What a beautiful pianoforte.

My brother gave it to me.
He shouldn't have.

- Yes, I should've.
- Oh, very well, then.

Easily persuaded, is she not?

Your unfortunate brother once had
to put up with my playing

for a whole evening.

But he says you play so well.

Then he has perjured himself
most profoundly.

No, I said, "Played quite well."

Oh, "quite well" is not "very well."
I'm satisfied.

Mr. Gardiner,

- are you fond of fishing?
- Oh, very much, sir.

Can I persuade you to accompany me
to the lake this afternoon?

It's well stocked and its occupants
left in peace for far too long.

I would be delighted.

Do you play duets, Miss Elizabeth?

Only when forced.

Brother, you must force her.

Splendid fishing, good company.
What a capital fellow.

Thank you so much, Mr. Darcy.

A letter for you, madam.

Oh, it's from Jane.

It's the most dreadful news.

Lydia has run away…

with Mr. Wickham.

They are gone from Brighton
to Lord-knows-where.

She has no money, no connections.

I fear she is lost forever.

This is my fault.

If only I had exposed Wickham
when I should.

No.

No, this is my fault.

I might have prevented all this
merely by being open with my sisters.

Has anything
been done to recover her?

My father has gone to London.

But I know very well
that nothing can be done.

We have not the smallest hope.

Would I could help you.

Sir, I think it is too late.

This is grave indeed.

I will leave you. Goodbye.

I'm afraid we must go at once.

I will join Mr. Bennet and find Lydia
before she ruins the family forever.

Oh, why did the Forsters
let her out of their sight?

I always said they were unfit
to take charge of her.

- And now she's ruined.
- You are all ruined.

Who will
take you now with a fallen sister?

Poor Mr. Bennet will now have
to fight the perfidious Wickham

and then be killed.

He hasn't found him yet, Mama.

And then Mr. Collins will turn us out
before he's cold in his grave.

Do not be so alarmed, Mama.

Our uncle has gone on to London
and is helping in the search.

Lydia must know
what this must be doing to my nerves.

Such flutterings and spasms all over me.

My baby Lydia.

My baby.

How could she do such a thing
to her poor mama?

- You can't do that.
- Don't be such a baby.

Kitty, give it to me.

- No!
- Who is it for?

It's addressed to Papa.

It's in Uncle's writing.

Papa, there's a letter!

- Let me catch my breath.
- It's in Uncle's writing.

- He has found them.
- Are they married?

- Wait. I can't make out his script.
- Oh, give it to me!

Are they married?

They will be, if father will settle
£100 a year on her.

- That is Wickham's condition.
- £100?

- You will agree to this, Father?
- Of course I'll agree.

God knows how much your uncle
must have laid on that wretched man.

What do you mean, Father?

No man in his senses would marry Lydia

under so slight a temptation
as £100 a year.

Your uncle must have been very generous.

Do you think it a large sum?

Wickham's a fool if he accepts
less than £10,000.

£10,000? Heaven forbid.

Father!

Lydia married.

And at 15, too.

Ring the bell, Kitty.

I must put on my things
and tell Lady Lucas.

Oh, to see her face.

And tell the servants
they will have a bowl of punch.

We should thank our uncle, Mama.

And so he should help.

He's far richer than us
and has no children.

A daughter, married!

Is that really
all you think about?

When you have five daughters, Lizzie,

tell me what else
will occupy your thoughts,

and then perhaps you will understand.

You don't know what he's like.

- Lydia!
- Mama.

We passed Sarah Sims in her carriage.

So I took off my glove
and let my hand just rest

so she might see the ring.

Then I bowed and smiled like anything.

Sarah Sims.

I'm sure she was not half as radiant
as you, my dear.

Oh, Mama!

You must all go to Brighton,
for that is the place to get husbands.

- I hope you have half my good luck.
- Lydia.

I want to hear
every little detail, Lydia dear.

- Oh, Mama!
- Beautiful.

I've been enlisted in a regiment
in the North of England, sir.

Glad to hear it.

Near Newcastle. We travel there next week.

- Can I come and stay with you?
- That is out of the question.

Well, Monday morning came
and I was in such a fuss.

I don't want to hear.

There was my aunt,
preaching and talking away

as if she was reading a sermon.

- She was horrid unpleasant.
- Can't you understand why?

Mmm. But I didn't hear a word, because
I was thinking of my dear Wickham.

I longed to know whether
he'd be married in his blue coat.

The North of England, I believe,
boasts some spectacular scenery.

And then my uncle
was called away on business,

and I thought, "Who is to be our
best man if he doesn't come back?"

Lucky he did come back,
or I would have had to ask Mr. Darcy,

but I don't really like him.

Mr. Darcy?

Oh, I forgot.
But I shouldn't have said a word.

Mr. Darcy was at your wedding?

He was the one that discovered us.

He paid for the wedding,
Wickham's commission. Everything.

But don't tell anyone.
He told me not to tell.

- Mr. Darcy?
- Stop it, Lizzie.

Mr. Darcy's not half
as high and mighty as you sometimes.

Tell Kitty
to stop glaring at Mr. Wickham.

Your father's doing enough
for the pair of them.

Kitty, have you seen my ring?

Write to me often, my dear.

Married women never have
much time for writing.

No, I dare say you won't.

When I married your father,

there didn't seem
to be enough hours in the day!

Well, my sisters may write to me.
For they'll have nothing else to do.

There's nothing so bad
as parting with one's children.

One seems so forlorn without them.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Lydia.
Goodbye, Mr. Wickham.

Bye, Kitty. Bye, Papa.

I can't imagine
what your father does with all that ink.

Mrs. Bennet.

Did you hear the news, madam?

Mr. Bingley is returning to Netherfield.

Mr. Bingley?

Mrs. Nichols is ordering a haunch of pork.

She expects him tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

Not that I care about him.
Mr. Bingley's nothing to us.

I'm sure I never want
to see him again. No.

We shan't mention a word about it.
Is it quite certain he's coming?

Yes, madam. I believe he is alone.
His sister remains in town.

Oh.

Why he thinks we should
be interested, I've no idea.

Come along, girls.

Let's go home at once, Mary,

and tell Mr. Bennet
the impudence of the man.

I wonder he dare show his face.

It's all right, Lizzie. I'm…

I'm just glad he comes alone,
because then we shall see less of him.

Not that I'm afraid of myself.
But I dread other people's remarks.

Oh, I'm sorry.

He's here! He's here. He's at the door!

Mr. Bingley!

Mr. Bingley? Oh, my goodness!

Everybody behave naturally.

And whatever you do,
do not appear overbearing.

- There's someone with him.
- Mama.

Mr. What's-his-name.
The pompous one from before.

Mr. Darcy!

The very insolence of it.
What does he think of, coming here?

Keep still, Jane.

Mary, put that away at once.
Find some useful employment.

Oh, my Lord! I shall have a seizure,
I'm sure I shall.

Kitty!

- Kitty!
- We can't have this here.

Mary, the ribbons,
the ribbons, the ribbons.

Mary, sit down at once. Mary!

Mr. Darcy
and Mr. Bingley, ma'am.

- Good...
- How very glad we are

to see you, Mr. Bingley.

There've been a great many changes
since you went away.

Miss Lucas is married and settled.

And one of my own daughters, too.

You will have seen it in the papers,

though it was not put in
as it ought to have been.

Very short, nothing about her family.

Yes. Yes, I did hear of it.
I offer my congratulations.

But it is very hard to have
my Lydia taken away from me.

Mr. Wickham has been transferred
to Newcastle, wherever that is.

Do you hope to stay long
in the country, Mr. Bingley?

Just a few weeks. For the shooting.

When you've
killed all your own birds,

I beg you will come here
and shoot as many as you please.

Thank you.

Mr. Bennet will be vastly happy
to oblige you,

and will save all the best
of the coveys for you.

Excellent.

Are you well, Mr. Darcy?

Quite well, thank you.

I hope that the weather
stays fine for your sport.

I return to town tomorrow.

So soon?

My Jane looks well,

does she not?

She does indeed.

Well, we must be going, I think.

Darcy.

It's been very pleasant to see
you all again. Miss Elizabeth.

- Miss Bennet.
- You must come again.

For when you were in town last winter,

you promised to have
a family dinner with us.

I've not forgot, you see.

At least three courses.

Excuse me.

Most extraordinary.

We were going to walk in,
and she was going to say, "Sit down."

- No, no.
- No.

So, I feel…

Oh, it's a disaster, isn't it?

It's been… It's…

- Miss Bennet.
- Mr. Bingley.

I just go in and I'll just say it.

- Just say it.
- Yes. Exactly, exactly.

Oh, God.

I'm glad that's over.

At least now we can meet
as indifferent acquaintances.

Oh, yes.

No, you cannot think me so weak
as to be in danger now.

I think you are in great danger
of making him

as much in love with you as ever.

I'm sorry, though,
that he came with Mr. Darcy.

Don't say that.

Why ever not?

Jane…

I've been so blind.

What do you mean?

Look, it's him!
He's back. He's come again.

I know this is all very untoward,

but I would like to request the privilege
of speaking to Miss Bennet.

Alone.

Everybody to the kitchen. Immediately.

Except you, Jane dear. Of course.

Oh, Mr. Bingley.
It is so good to see you again so soon.

First, I must tell you I have been

the most unmitigated
and comprehensive ass.

Kitty, Mary, quiet.

Yes.

A thousand times, yes.

Thank the Lord for that.
I thought it would never happen.

- I'm confident they will do well together.
- Hmm.

Their tempers are much alike.

Though they will be cheated
assiduously by their servants

and be so generous with the rest,

they will always exceed their income.

Exceed their income? He has £5,000 a year.

I knew she could not
be so beautiful for nothing.

Mmm-hmm.

"…must be free
from all insincerity.

She only can address herself
effectually to the heart

and the feelings of others,

whose mind glows
with the warmth of sensibility,

and whose arguments
result from conviction.

She must feel the influence
of those passions and emotions

which she wishes to inspire.

An assumed…"

Can you die of happiness?

Do you know, he was totally ignorant
of my being in town in the spring.

- How did he account for it?
- He thought me indifferent.

Unfathomable.

No doubt poisoned
by his pernicious sister.

Bravo.

I think that's the most unforgiving
speech you've ever made.

Oh, Lizzie, if I could
but see you so happy.

If there were such another man for you.

Perhaps Mr. Collins has a cousin.

- What is that?
- What?

Maybe he's changed his mind.

Coming!

Yes?

Lady Catherine.

The rest of your offspring, I presume.

All but one. The youngest has been
lately married, Your Ladyship.

And my eldest was proposed to,
only this afternoon.

You have a very small garden, madam.

Could I offer you a cup of tea,
perhaps, Your...

Absolutely not. I need to speak
to Miss Elizabeth Bennet alone.

As a matter of urgency.

You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet,
to understand why I am here.

You're mistaken.
I can't account for this honor at all.

Miss Bennet, I warn you,
I am not to be trifled with.

A report of a most alarming nature
has reached me

that you intend to be united
with my nephew, Mr. Darcy.

I know this to be a scandalous falsehood,

though not wishing to injure him
by supposing it possible,

I instantly set off
to make my sentiments known.

If you believed it to be impossible,

I wonder you took the trouble
of coming so far.

To hear it contradicted.

Your coming will be rather
a confirmation, surely,

- if indeed such a report exists.
- "If?"

Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it?

Has it not been industriously
circulated by yourself?

I have never heard of it.

And can you declare
there is no foundation for it?

I do not pretend to possess
equal frankness with Your Ladyship.

You may ask a question
which I may choose not to answer.

This is not to be borne.

Has my nephew made you
an offer of marriage?

Your Ladyship has declared it
to be impossible.

Let me be understood.

Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter.

- Now, what have you to say?
- Only this. If that is the case,

you have no reason to suppose
he would make an offer to me.

You selfish girl!

This union has been planned
since their infancy.

Do you think it can be prevented
by a young woman of inferior birth

whose own sister's elopement

resulted in a scandalously
patched-up marriage

only achieved at the expense
of your uncle?

Heaven and Earth, are the shades
of Pemberley to be thus polluted?

Now tell me once and for all,
are you engaged to him?

I am not.

And will you promise never to enter
into such an engagement?

I will not, and I certainly never shall.

You have insulted me in every possible way
and can now have nothing further to say.

I must ask you to leave immediately.

Goodnight.

I have never been thus treated
in my entire life!

- Lizzie, what on earth is going on?
- It's just a misunderstanding.

Lizzie.

Oh, for once in your life,
leave me alone!

- I couldn't sleep.
- Nor I. My aunt…

Yes. She was here.

How can I ever make amends
for such behavior?

After what you have done for Lydia,
and I suspect for Jane also,

it is I who should be making amends.

You must know.
Surely you must know it was all for you.

You are too generous to trifle with me.

I believe you spoke
with my aunt last night

and it has taught me to hope
as I had scarcely allowed myself before.

If your feelings are still
what they were last April,

tell me so at once.

My affections and wishes have not changed,

but one word from you
will silence me forever.

If, however, your feelings have changed…

I would have to tell you,
you have bewitched me, body and soul,

and I love… I love… I love you.

I never wish to be parted
from you from this day on.

Well, then.

Your hands are cold.

Shut the door, please, Elizabeth.

Lizzie, are you out of your senses?

I thought you hated the man.

No, Papa.

He's rich, to be sure,

and you will have
more fine carriages than Jane.

But will that make you happy?

Have you no other objection
than your belief in my indifference?

None at all.

Well, we all know him to be a proud,
unpleasant sort of fellow…

but this would be nothing
if you really liked him.

- I do like him.
- Well.

I love him.

He's not proud. I was wrong.
I was entirely wrong about him.

You don't know him, Papa.

If I told you what he was
really like, what he's done.

What has he done?

Mary, look at him.

But he's so…

But she doesn't like him.
I thought she didn't like him.

So did I. So did we all.

We must have been wrong.

Wouldn't be the first time, will it?

No.

Nor the last, I dare say.

Good Lord.

- I must pay him back.
- No.

You mustn't tell anyone.
He wouldn't want it.

We misjudged him, Papa,
me more than anyone, in…

in every way, not just in this matter.

I've been nonsensical.

But he's been a fool about Jane,

about so many other things. But…

but then, so have I.

You see, he and I are…

He and I are so similar.

We're both so stubborn.

Papa, I…

You really do love him, don't you?

Very much.

I cannot believe
that anyone can deserve you…

but it seems I am overruled.

So, I heartily give my consent.

I could not have parted
with you, my Lizzie,

to anyone less worthy.

Thank you.

If any young men come for Mary or Kitty,
for heaven's sake, send them in.

I'm quite at my leisure.

How are you this evening, my dear?

Very well. Only, I wish
you would not call me "My dear."

- Why?
- 'Cause it what my father

always calls my mother
when he's cross about something.

What endearments am I allowed?

Well, let me think.

"Lizzie" for every day.

"My Pearl" for Sundays.

And "Goddess Divine,"
but only on very special occasions.

And… what shall I call you
when I'm cross?

- Mrs. Darcy?
- No.

No.

You may only call me Mrs. Darcy

when you are completely,

perfectly and incandescently happy.

But how are you this evening…

Mrs. Darcy?

Mrs. Darcy.

Mrs. Darcy.

Mrs. Darcy.

Mrs. Darcy.