All language subtitles for Pride.and.Prejudice.1940.DVDRip.x264.aac.2.0-eng

Either the shell-pink gossamer muslin
or the figured damask...

...would be most becoming
to your daughter, Mrs. Bennet.

Now, let me see.

Yes. Yes, the pink suits you, Jane.

And now we'll see whether the blue
is becoming to you, Lizzy. Stand, dear.

Several young ladies have bought
new gowns for the Assembly Ball...

...but none will be more modish
than this muslin, madam.

Isn't silk brocade being very much worn?

Mine is, Mama. It's been worn
for three years.

Fashion decrees muslin
this season, madam.

- That should be good enough for us.
- Yes.

Then pink for Miss Jane
and blue for Miss Elizabeth.

I know exactly how I want mine cut.
I shall look very worldly.

- How shall I look?
- Adorable, my love, as always.

Oh, Lizzy.

Hey, Mr. Beck. Mr. Beck, look.

Looks-a-daisy, what a commotion.

Just look at that carriage, my love,
and those exquisite young men.

They must've come straight from court.

Oh, look, they're getting out.

Have you heard any of our neighbors say
if they're expecting visitors?

No, Mama. Who would be
entertaining people of fashion like these?

Mr. Beck, go to the inn and find out
if they're stopping in the vicinity.

- Slyly, of course.
- The hostler will tell us.

Here comes Aunt Philips
as if something were after her.

Looks-a-daisy, my sister's lost
all sense of decorum.

Aunt Philips, oh, why such haste?
Oh, you're out of breath.

I saw your carriage outside.

- My dear, such news. Did you see them?
- Of course we saw them.

- Who are they, sister?
- The new tenants of Netherfield Park.

- Netherfield Park is let at last.
- And to a young man of importance.

His name is Bingley.

- Is the young woman Mrs. Bingley?
- No. That's the pleasantest part of it.

- She's his sister.
- She's his sister, Lizzy.

- Who's the other gentleman?
- I don't know. Some friend, I suppose.

Let me tell you about Mr. Bingley.
He's very rich. Has 5000 pounds a year.

Five thousand pounds and unmarried.

That's the most heartening news
since the Battle of Waterloo.

You can see how handsome
and elegant he is.

Excuse me, madam,
the second gentleman's name is Darcy.

The two carriages and the dogs are his.
The chaise belongs to Mr. Bingley.

Two carriages and...
One, two, three, four, five...

- six liveried servants.

My word, this Mr. Darcy
must also be rich.

I wonder if he's married.

Mrs. Bennet, I thought
we'd find you here.

Good morning, Mrs. Philips.
Elizabeth, Jane.

I just had to come in
and tell you the news.

Dear Lady Lucas, you don't mean
about the new tenants of Netherfield?

- Ye... Oh, you've heard it already?
- Yes, dear.

Mr. Bingley has 5000 pounds a year.

- Who is this Mr. Darcy?
- He's Mr. Bingley's guest.

They're inseparable friends.
He's one of the Darcys of Pemberley.

Oh, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley.
Is that all you know about him?

What...? Oh, you mean, is he married?
No, dear. No, he isn't married.

And he's even richer than Mr. Bingley.

The Pemberley Estates
alone are worth a clear 10,000 a year.

Ten thou...? Isn't it fortunate
to have two eligible young men...

...come into the neighborhood?

Perhaps one of them will fall in love
with you, Charlotte.

- Oh, not if he sees Jane or Lizzy first.
- You may not have beauty, my love...

...but you have character,
and some men prefer it.

How true, Lady Lucas. That's why girls
who have both are doubly fortunate.

Come, my dears.

The dressmaker will call
for the muslin, Mr. Beck.

- Why such haste, Mama?
- Good morning, Lady Lucas.

Oh, good morning, Mrs. Bennet.
We shall meet at the Assembly Ball.

Yes, indeed. Goodbye, sister.

Oh, you mustn't leave, Lady Lucas...

...till Mr. Beck has shown you
that exquisite piece of flower damask.

- Goodbye.
- Bye.

- Goodbye, Lady Lucas.
- Goodbye.

- Come to Longbourn soon, Charlotte.
- Mama.

Heaven knows where your sisters are.
We must get home at once.

But, Mama, why?

Your father must call on Mr. Bingley
and Mr. Darcy this very afternoon.

If he doesn't, the Lucases will.
Now, there's no time to be lost.

But the damask, milady.

We'll choose the material
some other time. Come, Charlotte.

Hurry, my dear.

Where are those girls? Whenever
I want them, I never can find them.

- There's Mary, Mama.
- Oh, Mary. Mary.

Isn't that just like the girl. Mary.

Mary.

Look. I've just purchased Burke's essay
on the sublime and beautiful.

You and your books. No wonder you're
compelled to wear disfiguring glasses.

Oh, where are Kitty and Lydia?

Look for an officer in a red coat
and you'll find them.

Officers, yes. Come, girls.

Oh, yeah?

Is that the way you'd treat a wife,
Mr. Wickham?

More likely to be the way
she'd treat me, Miss Lydia.

- Mama, there they are.
- Where?

There. Look.

- Kitty, there's Mama.
- Kitty, Lydia, come here.

Those two are getting silly over officers.
I don't know why you permit it, Mama.

I had a weakness for the military myself
when I was young.

Oh, Mama, do we have to go home
so soon?

We met the most fascinating
new officer.

A Mr. Wickham. He's just joined
the Blankshires. He's charming.

Yes, that's very delightful.

Oh, dear. Where is that coachman?
Where is Jennings?

Oh, there he is. Now, come along, girls.
Don't dawdle.

Stay where you are.
There's no time to lose.

- Would you take this please? Thank you.
- Now, hurry up, dears.

Look, Mama, Lady Lucas' carriage.

Pass them, Higgins. Pass them.

Overtake them, Jennings!
Overtake them.

That's it, Jennings. That's it!

That'll teach her a lesson.
Keep on going, Jennings.

I must tell your papa about this at once.
No time to lose.

Go in the drawing room, girls.
Matthews, get the other parcels.

- Yes, ma'am.
- Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet.

- Mr. Bennet.
- Yes, my dear.

Mr. Bennet, Netherfield Park
has been let at last.

Did you hear me? Netherfield Park
has been let at last.

- Indeed, Mrs. Bennet.
- Don't you want to hear who's taken it?

If you want to tell me,
I have no objection to hearing it.

Mr. Bingley is his name, and it seems
he's a young man of large fortune.

And he's single, my dear. Think of it.

- What a fine thing for our girls.
- Is it?

Mr. Bennet, you know perfectly well
what I mean.

I'm thinking of his marrying
one of our daughters.

Oh, is that his design in settling here?

How can you talk so, Mr. Bennet?
This is a serious matter.

- You must go and visit him at once.
- You and the girls go.

Or better still, send the girls
by themselves.

For you're as handsome as any of them,
and Mr. Bingley may like you best of all.

Oh, my dear, you flatter me.

When a woman has
five grown-up daughters...

...she ought to give over
thinking of her own beauty.

Well, in most such cases, the woman
hasn't much beauty to think of, my dear.

Now, seriously, Mr. Bennet,
you must go and see Mr. Bingley.

If you don't, Sir William and Lady Lucas
will get there before us.

You should've seen her
galloping her horses...

...to beat me from the village just now.

- Did she win?
- Indeed she did not.

But she'd stop at nothing to get
Mr. Bingley interested in her Charlotte.

I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll write
to assure him of my hearty consent...

...to his marrying whichever
he chooses of the girls.

Though I must throw in a good word
for my Lizzy.

Elizabeth is not one whit
better than the others...

...but you always give her
the preference.

Oh, they're all silly and ignorant,
like most girls.

But Lizzy has some glimmerings
of sense.

Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse
your own children in such a way?

You take delight in vexing me.

You've no compassion
on my poor nerves.

Oh, you mistake me, my dear. I have
the highest respect for your nerves.

I have heard you mention them
with consideration for the last 20 years.

How can you be so resigned
to your daughters...

...growing up to be penniless old maids?

Leaving everything to your cousin,
that odious Mr. Collins.

Mrs. Bennet,
for the thousandth time...

...this estate was entailed
when I inherited it.

It must by law go to a male heir.
A male heir, Mrs. Bennet.

And as possibly you remember,
we have no son.

All the more reason why
you should take some responsibility...

...upon getting husbands for them.

No, you escape into your unintelligible
books and leave everything to me.

Look at them.
Five of them without dowries.

What's to become of them?

Yes, what is to become
of the wretched creatures?

Perhaps we should've
drowned some of them at birth.

Mr. Bennet.

I'm glad you didn't drown me, Papa.
Much too nice just being alive...

...even if I never have a husband.
- Well, I hope Mr. Bingley likes the hat.

We are not in the way of knowing
what Mr. Bingley likes...

...since we're not to meet him.
Mary, stop pecking.

Don't keep on coughing, Kitty.

Good heavens, have a little compassion
on my poor nerves.

Kitty has no discretion in her coughs.
She times them ill.

I don't cough
for my own amusement, Mama.

- Why aren't we to meet Mr. Bingley?
- Don't speak about Mr. Bingley.

I'm sick of him.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, my dear.
If I'd known that you'd feel like this...

...I shouldn't have gone out of my way
to make his acquaintance last week.

- Papa!
- Oh, it's very unlucky.

I even gave him tickets
to the Assembly Ball.

And I believe he intends
to make himself known to you there.

Mr. Bennet, you've been
acquainted with him all the time.

Since he signed his lease
at Netherfield, my dear.

Oh, Papa.

Did you tell him that you had
five daughters, Papa?

I told him if he ran into five
of the silliest girls in England...

...they would be my daughters.

Do you suppose our neighbors
from Netherfield are not coming?

Very discourteous if they don't,
considering they were given tickets.

Don't you think we dance
beautifully together?

I suspect you dance beautifully
with anyone, Miss Lydia...

...and I know I don't.

Tell me, who is the lovely creature
in the blue dress?

- That lovely creature is my sister.
- Then I'm in luck.

Please present me
when the dance is over.

Lizzy, this is Mr. Wickham.
He wants to meet you.

He thinks you're a lovely creature.

Someday I'll tell you
what sort of a creature you are.

After that introduction, I hardly know
how to begin, Miss Elizabeth.

Shall I offer a remark on the weather?

If you can make it fit
for a young lady's ears.

You're right, the weather's
too dangerous a subject.

To be quite safe, I shall ask you
how you like it here in Meryton.

That's anything but safe.

I'm just discovering
that I like it prodigiously.

I hope you'll ask me when I began
to like it so prodigiously, Miss Elizabeth.

I will.

When did you?

- The moment I saw you.
- Very pretty, sir.

Shall I tell you what I thought
the moment I saw you?

- Only if it's pleasant.
- It is. I thought...

- You were going to say, Miss Elizabeth?
- Oh, yes.

I'm sorry, I forget.

Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Bingley,
Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy.

This is indeed an honor.

Very distinguished.

Kitty... Kitty, your dress is too décolleté,
pull it up a little.

Lydia... Lydia, there's perspiration
on your nose.

Don't get so hot. It's very unladylike.

- Oh, Jane. Jane, dear.
- Yes, Mama?

Of course, you're quite perfect, my dear.

Lizzy, do try to make a good impression.

You can be so appealing
when you want to be.

Oh, Mary, try to sparkle a little.

Just a little.

- A waltz, Mr. Darcy?
- Yes.

- How modern.
- Yes, indeed.

- Shall we have our dance now?
- If you care to.

- What a handsome man Mr. Darcy is.
- And so rich too.

His mother was a daughter
of the Marquis of Scarlingford.

Did you hear that, Jane?
The Marquis of Scarlingford.

- And doesn't he know it.
- I like Mr. Bingley better.

- Mr. Darcy's so...
- So supercilious.

And my goodness,
he does have an air about him.

Pray, Sir William, who is that
uncommonly handsome girl?

- Who?
- Over there, next to the pillar.

Oh, that's Miss Bennet.

This is our dance, Miss Elizabeth.

Oh, Mrs. Bennet,
may I present Mr. Bingley?

Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Philips,
Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet.

Mr. Bingley, we're all so delighted
that you've taken Netherfield.

Having it standing empty was a loss
to the whole neighborhood...

...like an oyster shell
without an oyster in it.

Well, here is the oyster, madam.

But if I may be permitted to say so,
it is you who have the pearl.

Charming, charming.

Jane, dear, why don't you say something
to Mr. Bingley.

Good evening, sir.

May I have the honor of this dance,
Miss Bennet?

With pleasure.

Think of having a daughter
happily settled at Netherfield.

She'll be pricing wedding garments
tomorrow.

- My, my. Stop scratching yourself.
- Yes, Mama.

Well, is Miss Bingley engaged
to Mr. Darcy?

- If she is, she ought to break it.
- Why?

No man can be in love
and look so bored.

Did you ever see such people,
Mr. Darcy?

I think my brother ought to apologize
for bringing us to a place like this.

He's so dreadfully undiscriminating.

He seems to be able to
enjoy himself in any society.

I'm not surprised at his being able
to enjoy himself in that society.

You've done a very
extraordinary thing.

- What?
- You have talked to me...

...about all your friends in Meryton
without saying one malicious word.

They're all such agreeable
people, so kind and pleasant.

That never prevented anyone
from talking maliciously.

- Your health.
- Your health.

No heeltapping, Miss Kitty,
down in one gulp.

Choke up, chicken.
Put your hands over your head.

Oh, look, they're dancing.
That should help you.

My goodness, what a hullabaloo.

One is only young once.

That odious Mr. Darcy,
looking down his nose at everybody.

Does he think he's too good for us?
Come, sister.

Isn't that delightful, you like
riding as much as I do?

- Yes.
- I hope we may be able to ride together.

- That would be nice.
- Why, Caroline.

Miss Jane, will you take a stroll
about the room with me?

- With pleasure.
- Oh, no, Charles, you were not invited.

I have a thousand things
I want to ask Miss Jane.

You know, I have a feeling
about Mr. Bingley and Jane.

I really have. Look, look, sister.

Miss Bingley is being
excessively gracious to Jane.

What did I tell you?
It's a sure sign.

You must come over to Netherfield
one day. I should be so bored.

- What?
- Oh, you know...

...marooned out here in the wilderness.

- We'll arrange it, shall we, very soon?
- That would be delightful.

Oh, isn't this better than
brazening it out in the open?

No one can tell
we haven't partners here.

Oh, why is England cursed with
so many more women than men?

Mr. Darcy.

Come, I hate to see you stalking about
in this stupid manner.

- Why don't you dance?
- With whom?

Your sister's engaged...

...and there isn't a woman here it
wouldn't be a punishment to stand with.

But the place is full of pretty girls.

I've noticed only one and you
seem to have monopolized her.

Yes, isn't she lovely?

There's her sister, Miss Elizabeth.
They say she has a lively wit.

Provincial young lady with a lively wit.
Preserve us. And that mother of hers.

It's not the mother you have to
dance with, it's the daughter.

Yes, she looks tolerable enough.

But I'm in no humor tonight to give
consequence to middle classes at play.

What a charming man.

Of all the arrogant, detestable snobs.

Lizzy, he didn't know you were listening.

What difference does that make?
He'd have said it just the same if he had.

"Oh, she looks tolerable enough...

...but I'm in no humor tonight to give
consequence to middle classes at play."

I think how we badgered poor Papa
to get him here. Oh, I could...

Oh, praise heaven, I have this dance
engaged with Canon Stubbs.

He's never learned the steps,
but he likes the exercise.

And it gets me away from the wall.

- But as I was saying...
- I was about to ask you...

...if you would introduce me
to Miss Bennet?

Oh, certainly yes. Dancing is a charming
amusement for young people.

In my opinion, it's one of the
first refinements of a polished society.

It has the added advantage of being
one of the first refinements of savages.

- Every Hottentot can dance.
- Yes, yes, quite so.

So, Miss Elizabeth, may I have
the honor to present Mr. Darcy?

He's eager to invite you to dance.

Now that you've been forewarned
of my eagerness to dance...

...I hope that you will
do me the honor?

I am afraid that the honor of standing up
with you is more than I can bear.

Pray, excuse me.

Am I to understand that you do not
wish to dance with me, Miss Bennet?

Sir, I am begging to be excused.

The loss is mine, I'm sure.

You perhaps know best
about that, sir.

Miss Elizabeth, if you're not engaged,
will you honor me with the next dance?

I should be very happy
to dance with you.

Oh, this is Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy and I have met before.

We have indeed.

The man must be mad.

Mad? You're too charitable,
Miss Elizabeth.

If you were better acquainted,
you'd see in him another man.

Have you known him a long time?

Yes, since childhood. But as you saw,
we're not on friendly terms.

Without knowing anything about it,
I'm on your side.

Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.

You see, my father was
steward at the Darcy estate.

Young Darcy and I grew up together,
almost like brothers.

But I mustn't trust myself
on that subject.

Well, after what Darcy has done to me,
I wouldn't be a fair judge.

Polka-mazurka. I didn't expect to find
Meryton abreast with the new fashion.

You underrate us, Mr. Wickham.
Meryton is abreast of everything.

Everything except insolence
and bad manners.

Those London fashions
we do not admire.

Things worked out exactly as I hoped
the minute I set eyes on Mr. Bingley.

- What's this about Mr. Bingley?
- I'm dining with him and his sister.

- This is the day.
- Oh, a great and fateful day.

Mama, do you suppose
they'll have turtle soup for dinner?

They're so frightfully rich.

No, you can't expect turtle soup until
the engagement is actually announced.

Now, Jane, don't forget
what I told you.

Don't be too distant with him,
and laugh when he makes a joke.

Yes, even if it's a bad one.

Especially if it's a bad one.

And try to sit where
he can see you in profile.

You know, although
I say it, I shouldn't:

You have the loveliest
profile in all Herefordshire.

Mama.

Thank you.

And, Jane, if Mr. Bingley should suggest
a stroll before dinner, don't refuse.

There are delightfully secluded walks
in those shrubberies around Netherfield.

- Yes, Mama.
- There won't be much strolling today.

Oh, dear me, Lizzy,
I'm afraid you're right.

Oh, and I had such hopes
of those shrubberies.

- Get out, Jane, at once.
- But, Mama, I want to go.

Who said you weren't going? Get out
and change your clothes immediately.

Take the carriage back to the stables and
tell the boy to saddle Miss Jane's horse.

But, Mama, you can't send
Jane out on horseback.

It's going to rain and she'll catch a cold.

Fiddlesticks, people don't catch cold
from a few drops of water.

If it rains, she won't be able to ride
home. They'll have to keep her all night.

There isn't a thing
like wet weather for engagements.

Your dear father and I
became engaged in a thunderstorm.

You'll be confined here
for at least a week, Miss Bennet.

- A week?
- A week?

I hope your mother
won't be upset.

Oh, no. Mother will be delight...

I mean, she'll be grateful
I'm with such good friends.

Now, here. Turn this way.

This way.

Now open your mouth.

Say:

Once more:

The epidermis seems to have lost
its sudorific activity.

I detect distinct symptoms of pyrexia.

Oh, is that bad, Dr. Mclntosh?

He just means you're rather feverish,
Miss Jane.

There is also acute coryza
of the nasal cavities...

...accompanied by local
inflammation of the larynx.

Not to mention
some pulmonary congestion...

...and neuralgic pains
in the temporal region.

In other words, Miss Jane,
you have a bad cold and a headache.

What do you want us to do, doctor?

I would advise the immediate
application of a sinapism.

- A sinapism?
- A mustard plaster.

There seems to be someone
coming up the drive.

It would appear to be
one of your sisters. Miss Elizabeth.

Well, I'll go down and meet her.

Come in, Miss Elizabeth.

How do you do, Mr. Bingley?
We got Jane's note this morning.

- She will be so happy to see you.
- Thank you.

This way, Miss Elizabeth.

Forgive me, Miss Bingley,
I'm afraid it's a great intrusion.

My uneasiness about my sister
must be my excuse.

It's just a little cold, that's all.

But Dr. Mclntosh says
there's some fever.

Doesn't amount to anything.
Nothing to get agitated about.

I thought I heard your voice.
Have you come to visit your sister?

And she seems actually to have walked.

The horses were needed at the farm.
I had no alternative.

- Well, you didn't come alone, I hope.
- All alone.

But how shocking.
Don't you think so, Mr. Darcy?

Is it shocking for a lady
to be concerned about her sister?

But to have come all this way
unaccompanied, and on foot.

Mr. Bingley, would it be possible
for me to see Jane?

At once. I'll take you up myself.

Papa, listen to Mary.

I can't help listening, my dear.

Will you be quiet!

Mama, the sunshine.
May I go to the village?

- May I go, too, Mama?
- Oh, I suppose so.

Oh, and stop that caterwauling.

Has anybody heard how
Jane is this morning?

Mr. Bingley sent a note over
by his groom. She is much better.

Such a happy idea of mine,
sending her off in the rain.

Yes, but to Jane must go all the credit
for having caught the cold, my dear.

How much longer are Elizabeth
and Jane going to stay at Netherfield?

We're hoping Elizabeth can
catch a cold of her own...

...and stay long enough
to get engaged to Mr. Darcy.

Then if a good snowstorm
could be arranged, we'd send Kitty over.

If a young man should be in the house,
a man who likes singing, of course...

...and can discuss philosophy,
Mary could go.

Then, if a soldier in a handsome uniform
should appear for Lydia...

...everything would be perfect, my dear.

Just a little marmalade please,
Kitty darling.

- That's 20 and 10 for the game.
- I have two and 20, I believe.

Miss Eliza, is your patient asleep?

- Is she better, Miss Elizabeth?
- Yes, her fever is quite gone.

I'm so glad.
Will you join us in a game of cards?

No. Please continue
with what you were playing.

I'd enjoy looking at some of your books,
if I may.

Miss Eliza is a great reader, I'm sure...

...and has no pleasure in anything
so frivolous as cards.

Is that true, Miss Elizabeth?

Not at all. I'm not a great reader...

...and I have pleasure
in many frivolous things. Thank you.

I'm sure you have pleasure
in nursing your sister.

I hope it will soon be increased
by seeing her well.

Thank you. I think she may
be taken home tomorrow.

- Oh, not so soon.
- I'm afraid so.

My mother's expecting a visit from our
cousin, whom none of us has seen.

Naturally, you're curious to see her.

My cousin Collins is a man, but we are
curious to see him. Naturally.

Miss Jane mustn't go out until
a doctor advises it, cousin or no cousin.

- There are others in the library.
- This will suit me perfectly, thank you.

What a delightful library you have
at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy.

It ought to be good.
It's the work of many generations.

Shall we continue, Darcy?

Oh, you and Miss Bingley play.
I must finish my letter to my sister.

How I long to see your sister
again, Mr. Darcy.

I've never met anyone
who delighted me so much.

Such a countenance, such manners.

And so extremely accomplished
for one of her age.

Its amazing how young ladies have
the patience to be so accomplished.

All young ladies are not accomplished,
Charles.

All I know are. Aren't all you know
accomplished, Darcy?

I can't boast of knowing more than
half a dozen who are really so.

Nor I.
What do you think, Miss Eliza?

I think that you and Mr. Darcy
must comprehend a great deal...

...in your idea
of the accomplished woman.

- I do.
- Oh, certainly.

No one can really be accomplished
unless she has a thorough knowledge...

...of music, singing, dancing
and the modern languages.

Besides, she must also possess a certain
something in the tone of her voice...

...in her address, in her expressions...

...as well as in her figure and carriage.

To which she must add
something more substantial...

...in the improvement of her mind,
by extensive reading.

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

I wonder at your knowing any.

Caroline, are we to discuss this subject
further, or shall we play piquet?

Oh, I don't wish to play cards, Charles.
I think I'd prefer a book too.

After all,
there's no enjoyment like reading.

I'll play with you, Mr. Bingley.

Will you cut?

- Do you like dancing, Miss Elizabeth?
- Love it.

Soon as your sister's recovered,
I'll give a ball.

Oh, that's a delightful idea.

Pray, tell your sister that I am delighted
of her progress in music...

...and let her know that I am in raptures
with her beautiful design for a table.

Allow me to defer your raptures
until I write again?

I haven't room to do them justice.

It's of no consequence.
I shall see her soon.

I'm hungry. May I get you some food,
Miss Elizabeth?

No, thank you.

Miss Eliza, join me
in taking a turn about the room.

You'll find it very refreshing
after sitting for so long.

- With pleasure.
- Mr. Darcy, will you join us?

No, thank you.

I can imagine only two motives
for your walking...

...with either of which
my joining you would interfere.

What does he mean by that,
Miss Elizabeth?

If I read his character correctly,
he means to be severe upon us.

And the best way of disappointing him
is not to ask.

I'm not sure that your character reading
is too brilliant, Miss Elizabeth.

Anyway, I must know.

Pray, explain what the two motives
might be, Mr. Darcy?

I have not the smallest objection
to explaining.

Either you have secret affairs
to discuss...

...or you are conscious that your figures
show to great advantage while walking.

In the first case,
I shall be in your way.

And in the second, I can admire you
much better from where I am.

How perfectly abominable. What should
we do to punish him, Miss Eliza?

As you know him so well,
I shall leave his punishment to you.

I must go up and see Jane.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Why disclaim punishment, Elizabeth?
You deliberately inflict it by leaving us.

If my departure is any punishment,
Mr. Darcy, you are quite right.

My character reading is not too brilliant.

Good night, sir.

Charming, my dear. Charming.

But that will do.

Mary.
Mary, that's quite enough, dear.

I'm so glad I went
to fetch Jane myself...

...if only to see the look
in Mr. Bingley's eyes...

...when he assisted her
into the carriage.

Oh, Jane, dear, there you are.

Oh, Jane.

- Are you feeling better, dearest?
- Oh, much better.

Jane, dear, I was talking
about dear Mr. Bingley.

What a charming son-in-law he'll be.

Why, he hasn't proposed yet,
has he, Mama?

He will. I told him some things
about Jane before I left.

Mama.

Only that you have the loveliest
disposition in the world.

And I let drop the fact...

...that you had declined any number
of marriage proposals.

Oh, Mama, you didn't.

Of course I did,
didn't I, Lizzy?

I'm afraid you did, Mama.

And I set that arrogant Mr. Darcy
down, too, before I left.

Did you hear what I said to him, Lizzy?

Yes.

I heard only too clearly.

- Oh, Matthews, is dinner ready?
- Yes, madam.

- Good, I'm starving.
- So am I.

How long do we have to wait
for this Collins person?

Matthews, go and tell Mr. Collins
we're waiting dinner for him.

Very well, madam.

Insufferable creature.

After all, Mama, it isn't his fault
he's to inherit the estate some day.

To think we have to feed the man...

...who's waiting to snatch
the bread out of our mouths.

Scheming to rob us of everything
the moment your dear father is dead.

I sometimes think, my dear, you take an
unnecessarily gloomy view of my future.

Well, Papa, tell us what he's really like.

From the little I saw of him between
the front door and his bedroom...

...I should say that he was
an uncommonly fine specimen.

Here he comes.

I have heard much, madam, of the charm
and beauty of your daughters.

Madam, I have heard much
of the charm and beau...

Oh, heavens, what a pudding face.

- Perhaps he has beauties of character.
- Yes, perhaps, my dear.

But we shall see.

- I trust I've not kept you waiting, sir.
- Not at all, sir, not at all.

And now let me present you
to Mrs. Bennet and my daughters.

I have... Mrs. Bennet, my dear.

Mr. Collins.

How do you do, Mr. Collins?
I trust your journey wasn't too fatiguing.

Oh, madam, the fatigues of the journey
have been melted away...

...by the warmth
of your gracious hospitality.

My daughters, Mr. Collins. This is Jane.

- This is indeed a privilege.
- Kitty.

- Another privilege.
- Lydia, our youngest.

Mary.

And Elizabeth.

I am quite overpowered.

Madam, I've heard much of the charm
and beauty of your daughters.

But may I say that their fame falls
far short of the reality.

Unfortunately, looks are not
the only things that count, Mr. Collins.

Even a beautiful girl must have money.

And things are settled
so very oddly in this family.

Quite so, madam. Speaking of beauty,
it might interest you to know...

...that my taste in it was formed
by the expert opinion...

...of my distinguished patroness,
Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Mr. Collins, won't you tell us something
about your distinguished patroness?

Oh, Lady Catherine. Never in my life, sir,
have I witnessed such behavior...

...in a person of rank.
Such affability and condescension.

You surprise me, sir.

I had heard of Lady Catherine
as a very proud and haughty woman.

Such is the vulgar opinion, sir.

I can assure you, although I act
as her ladyship's librarian...

...she has always spoken to me
as she would to any other gentleman.

- Not really.
- And now...

...let me give a further instance of her
ladyship's extraordinary condescension.

She advised me to marry
as soon as I could...

...and actually promised
to call upon my wife.

Provided, of course,
I chose with discretion.

- Do explain yourself, Mr. Collins.
- As you are aware, madam...

...when a certain
melancholy event occurs...

...I shall be the involuntary means
of disinheriting your daughters.

I have long felt it my duty to make such
reparation as was in my power.

I quite understand, Mr. Collins.

Unfortunately, I cannot make
amends to more than one.

The difficulty now is one of choice.

I think perhaps...

...Miss Jane.

I'm sorry to disappoint you,
Mr. Collins...

...but Jane is practically engaged.

We are expecting a proposal
any moment now.

Well, then, Miss Elizabeth.

- That is, if there's no prior claim.
- Oh, none.

- None that we know of.
- Dinner is served, madam.

And now, my dear Mr. Collins...

...shall we adjourn to the dining room?

Pray, taste the cold punch, Mr. Darcy.

And see if it's properly blended.

- Excellent.
- Have it served at once, Robert.

Very well, madam.

Entertaining the rustics
is not as difficult as I'd feared.

Any simple childish game
seems to amuse them excessively.

For you, Sir William.

Stop, stop, I'm going to fall!

Give another push, Denny.

Miss Elizabeth.

Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth.

Why, I say, sir. Sir.
I beg your pardon, sir.

Do you happen
to know Miss Elizabeth Bennet?

- I do, sir.
- Has she passed this way, may I ask?

No, sir, she has not passed this...

...but I suggest you try
the other side of the lake, sir.

I'm obliged to you, sir.

All clear.

Thank you, Mr. Darcy.

You've saved me from one of the most
dangerous bores in the country.

If the dragon returns, St. George
will know how to deal with him.

Meanwhile, what do you say
to a little target practice?

Very well.

Are you a good shot
with a bow and arrow, Mr. Darcy?

- Tolerable.
- Only tolerable?

Well, it's a fine old sport.

And one in which even a young
lady can become proficient.

- So I've heard.
- At a short range, of course.

And with a light bow.

What a bad shot.

On the contrary, well done.

Well, it might have been worse.
Now it's your turn.

Now, the bow in the left hand.

This way:

So the arrow goes like this:

That's right, now these three fingers so.

One, two, three.

Now, the left arm straight.
Straight, straight, straight.

Now turn sideways toward the target.

Aim for the bull's-eye.

That's right.

Bull's-eye.

And another bull's-eye.

Next time I talk to a young lady
about archery I won't be so patronizing.

Yes, thank you for the lesson.

Thank you for taking it so well.

Most men would have been offended,
and rightly.

Would you mind telling me
why you're so determined to offend me?

Is that possible, Mr. Darcy?
I thought you were invulnerable.

You always look so impassive.

Perhaps you don't laugh enough.

You may be right. But you hadn't
answered my question.

Mr. Darcy.

- You promised to give me a lesson.
- No more instructions to young ladies.

They give instructions to me.
What do you say, Miss Bingley?

Miss Elizabeth thinks
I do not laugh enough.

I should be sorry to see
you laugh more than you do.

To me there's something so unrefined
about excessive laughter.

Oh, if you want to be really
refined you have to be dead.

There's no one as dignified as a mummy.

And now may I ask you
a question, Mr. Darcy?

By all means.

What would you think of a man who
had everything the world has to offer?

Birth, breeding, wealth.

Good looks.

Even charm when he chose
to exercise it.

What would be your opinion
of a man with such gifts...

...who refused to accept
an introduction to a man...

...who was poor
and of no consequence?

I should reserve my opinion...

...until I knew the circumstances
of the particular case.

Do you suppose the gentleman
would reveal those if he were asked?

No.

A gentleman does not
have to explain his actions.

He expects people to give him credit
for being a man of honor...

...and integrity.

And now if you will excuse me
I will retrieve the arrows.

Miss Eliza.

May I warn you as a friend not
to take George Wickham too seriously.

- You knew I referred to Mr. Wickham?
- Of course.

I know that he goes about saying
that he's been ill-used by Mr. Darcy.

While I'm ignorant of the particulars,
I know that what he says is not true.

How clever of you,
my dear Miss Bingley...

...to know something of which
you are ignorant.

I've always found George Wickham
to be a man of absolutely no principle.

But dear, what can you expect of
one of his low descent?

I will tell you exactly what I expect.

Kindness, honor,
generosity, truthfulness.

And I might add that I expect precisely
the same from persons of high descent.

Oh, Mr. Darcy, Miss Bingley
is eager for her lesson.

I hope you will enjoy it, Miss Bingley...

...and that you will learn to direct
your darts with greater accuracy.

Such insolence and bad manners.

Pray, what do you think
of her now, Mr. Darcy?

I think she handles
a bow and arrow superbly.

Charming, Miss Mary. Charming.

Won't you favor us
with another selection?

Well, if you really insist.

- Papa, you must make her stop.
- All right, dear.

Very good, Mary, dear. Very good.

But, Papa, this is another song.

Oh, never mind, my dear.

You've delighted us quite long enough.

Give the other young ladies a chance
to make exhibitions of themselves.

Miss Elizabeth, allow me
to congratulate you.

- On what?
- On your family, of course.

A talented young singer. A cousin
distinguished for his wit and learning.

Two young sisters who are the toast
of the officer's mess.

A mother who's a most
diverting conversationalist.

To say nothing of your own dexterity
with bow and arrow.

Such an interesting,
accomplished family.

Miss Elizabeth, I'm afraid something
has happened to disturb you.

Nothing at all, thank you.

Are you sure there's nothing I can do?

You can leave me to make
a fool of myself alone...

...if you don't mind.

It's hard to imagine
you making a fool of yourself.

Well, I do frequently. Isn't that
what I was doing this afternoon?

I rather admired what you did
this afternoon, Miss Elizabeth.

The resentment of what you believe to be
an injustice showed courage and loyalty.

I could wish I might possess
a friend...

...who would defend me as ably as
Mr. Wickham was defended.

You're very puzzling, Mr. Darcy.

At this moment, it's difficult
to believe that you're so proud.

At this moment, it's difficult
to believe that you're so prejudiced.

Shall we not call quits and start again?

Mr. Bingley is going
to arrange a Highland Reel.

- Come along.
- Yes, please do.

Shall we?

I must insist that you look
at Jane and Mr. Bingley.

The dear boy makes
no secret of his admiration.

And the week she was ill here at
Netherfield completed the conquest.

I knew it would. Wasn't it clever of me
to send her over in the rain?

Of course, Jane will see that
the other girls have an opportunity...

...of meeting all sorts of rich young men.

I told you not to drink
so much punch, Kitty.

- You're quite tipsy.
- I am not.

Hold up.

Hello, Lizzy. Hello, Mr. Darcy.

Look at Kitty. She's drunk as a lord.

I am not.

Ladies and gentlemen...

...if you will choose your partners,
we'll all have a Highland Reel.

- Such a gay dance, the reel.
- Won't you allow me to take you in?

I'm sure there must be many young men
who are eager to dance it with you.

Miss Elizabeth,
do you recall? The first dance?

Sir, will you please accept the humble
apology of one who's only just learned...

...that you are the nephew of
Lady Catherine de Bourgh?

- Indeed.
- You'll be happy to learn...

...that when I left her two weeks ago,
your aunt enjoyed the best of health.

What graciousness. What condescension.

What snobbery.

Eliza, please remember that Mr. Darcy...

...is the nephew of Lady de Bourgh.

I do, Mr. Collins. I also remember...

...that Mr. Darcy is the sort of person
who offers his friendship...

...and then at the first test
of loyalty withdraws it.

- Shall we go inside?
- Of course.

Jane, stop moving about.

Oh, little fellow, please don't cry.

Oh, there's Lizzy.

Lizzy. Lizzy.
Come and see how pretty this is.

Oh, that's charming, Kitty.
What a pity you didn't make it bigger.

We could've put it around Mr. Collins
when he grows too much of a bore.

How could you speak like that
about your charming cousin?

- But he's...
- There you are, Mrs. Bennet.

Oh, Mr. Collins,
we were just talking about you.

I thought you were walking
with Jane, Mr. Collins.

I left Miss Jane in the garden
with Miss Charlotte and the puppies.

- I think I'll join them.
- One moment, Miss Elizabeth.

Madam, may I have the permission...

...to solicit a private interview
with your daughter?

- Private?
- Well, I really...

Yes, indeed.

Lizzy will be only too happy.

Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs.

- Why do you keep winking, Mama?
- Winking? Why, I wasn't winking.

- But you were, Mama.
- Don't contradict. Come, Kitty.

But Mr. Collins could have nothing
private to say to me.

No nonsense, Lizzy.

Lizzy, I desire you
to stay where you are.

Come, Kitty.

Mr. Collins.

Come along, Kitty.

Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth...

...your modesty does you
no disservice in my eyes.

Wait. You could hardly doubt
the purport of my discourse.

My intentions have been
too marked to be mistaken.

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

Please, before
my feelings run away with me...

...let me state reasons for marrying.

First, it is the duty of every gentleman
in easy circumstances to marry.

Secondly, I'm convinced
it will add greatly to my happiness.

Thirdly, I think it right that since
I am to inherit your father's estate...

...I should keep it
in the family.

And fourthly, it is the particular wish
of that very noble lady...

...whom I have the honor to call
my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

These, dear Miss Elizabeth,
are my motives.

And now nothing remains but to me to
assure you the violence of my affection.

Why, you are too hasty, sir.

You forget that I have made no answer.

Let me do so at once.

I appreciate the honor
of your proposal.

- Oh, my dear Miss Elizabeth.
- But I must decline with thanks.

I understand that it is a delicate
and charming custom of young ladies...

...to say no when they mean yes,
even to three and four refusals.

I am not discouraged
by what you said.

Upon my word,
you are very hard to discourage.

- My dear...
- Mr. Collins...

...you have made your offer.
I have refused it.

You can take possession
of this estate...

...without the least compunction
or self-reproach whenever it falls to you.

Let's regard the incident as closed.

But I think you ought
to take into consideration...

...that in spite of your loveliness and
amiable qualifications, you're penniless.

It is by no means certain another offer
of marriage may be made you.

- Well, by all...
- So I must attribute your refusal of me...

...to your wish of increasing
my love by suspense.

Which is, I'm told,
the usual practice of elegant females.

Believe me, sir, I am not
one of those elegant females...

...who takes pleasure
in tormenting a respectable man.

I am a rational creature,
speaking the truth from her heart.

Oh, thank you.
You make me feel certain...

...that when my proposal
is sanctioned by your parents...

...you will plainly say yes.

- Oh, Papa.
- Lizzy.

- Oh, Papa, dear, I must tell you.
- Come in the library.

Lizzy, what...?

Oh, my dear future son-in-law.
Let me be the first to wish you joy.

Thank you, madam. Indeed, I trust
I have every reason for joy.

Of course, I know my cousin's refusal
springs from her bashful modesty.

Refusal? With Lizzy,
that does not mean bashful modesty.

But never mind, Mr. Collins.

She's foolish, headstrong,
and doesn't know her own interest.

Foolish? Headstrong? Dear me.

Those failings
will not make her desirable.

Oh, but you quite misunderstand.

Lizzy is only headstrong
in matters such as these.

You just wait, Mr. Collins.
Mr. Bennet always brings her to reason.

Headstrong? Foolish? Dear me.
Lady Catherine will never approve.

Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet,
we are all in an uproar.

Lizzy has refused to marry Mr. Collins.

You must force her to change her mind
or he'll change his and not have her.

In which event, the matter will be
settled at a satisfaction of both.

Please be serious. Speak to her. Tell her
you insist upon her marrying him.

- Lizzy.
- Yes, Papa?

Your mother insists that you accept
Mr. Collins. Isn't that so?

Or else I shall never see her again.

An unhappy alternative
is before you, Elizabeth.

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

And I will never see you again if you do.

Dear Papa.

But, Mama, you've no right
to open Jane's letter.

It's against the principles
of Magna Carta.

No right to open my daughter's letters?
I never heard of such a thing.

Besides, dear Jane need never know.

Oh, I'm sure it's the proposal.
I can feel it in my bones.

"My dearest Jane"...

She's lost him. She's lost him!

We've lost two of them!

- What's lost, Mama?
- Your husbands.

You throw away Mr. Collins
and now here's Jane losing Mr. Bingley.

- What are you talking about, Mama?
- Read that.

No, no, it belongs to Jane. I thought
it was a declaration, so I opened it.

They've gone. They've gone to London.

- Well, who's gone to London?
- Mr. Bingley, his sister and Mr. Darcy.

They've packed up and left
without even saying goodbye.

Read it. Read what Miss Bingley
has to say.

Lizzy.

Well, nobody's going to miss
that high and mighty Mr. Darcy.

Oh, do be quiet, Lydia.

Without a sign of a proposal.

After his compromising attentions
to Jane.

Mama, he did not compromise Jane.

He is a very undeserving young man.

My only comfort is she'll die
of a broken heart, then he'll be sorry.

- Mr. Wickham.
- Oh, how do you do, Mr. Wickham?

You'll excuse me, won't you?
I'm too upset to talk to anyone.

- Lizzy will give you tea.
- I'm sorry you're disturbed, madam.

My visit is ill-timed,
I'm afraid.

No, no. Mama has just heard
some rather surprising news, that's all.

She'll be herself again directly.

I heard some surprising news myself
this morning.

- Really?
- Yes.

- But it was good news.
- Yes?

- Good news, indeed.
- Well?

Mr. Darcy has left Netherfield.

So I hear.

Well, don't you want
to know why he went?

- I should like very much to know.
- His conscience drove him away.

You mean he was ashamed
of his behavior at the Assembly Ball.

Oh, that was nothing.

Thank you.

Merely the insult Mr. Darcy likes
to add to injury.

Miss Elizabeth, having confided...

...so much of my story to you,
I'd like you to understand the rest.

Would it bore you?

Oh, no. On the contrary.

I am deeply interested.

How kind and sympathetic you are.

Would it surprise you to learn
I was once intended for the Church?

Really? Well, you seem
so well-fitted for the army.

I have no taste for soldiering.

The Church ought to have been
my profession and would have been...

...if Mr. Darcy hadn't chosen
to disregard his father's will.

Disregard a will? Well, how could he?

For a man of honor,
it would have been impossible.

But Darcy chose to regard the annuity
which his father left me...

...provided I enter the Church, as a mere
recommendation and not a bequest.

I knew Mr. Darcy was proud
and arrogant.

I never imagined him dishonorable.

He should be publicly exposed.

Not by me, Miss Elizabeth.

While I remember the father, I could
never bring myself to disgrace the son.

I admire your generosity, Mr. Wickham.

Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.
Your sympathy means very much to me.

Oh, there you are.
We can't let you keep him, Lizzy.

He's got to come and play with us.

- You're my partner.
- What an honor.

- I've been kidnapped.
- Won't you join us?

- Come on.
- No, thanks. Later perhaps.

Come along. Gee up.

- Why, Jane.
- Lizzy.

If you've let that Caroline Bingley
make you cry, I'll shake you.

She says none of them intend to return
to Netherfield this winter.

She means she intends
none of them to return.

Oh, Lizzy, how can you think that?
After all, he's his own master.

Look. Read this part.

"My brother has long had
an affectionate interest...

...in Mr. Darcy's sister, Georgiana.

And during the next few months
in London...

...both families are hoping that their
attachment will flower into an event...

...which will secure
the happiness of us all."

You see? She knows her brother's fond
of someone else.

Doesn't want me
to have any false hope.

She knows her brother's
in love with you.

She doesn't intend that he shall marry
into a family of such low descent.

Lizzy, what are you talking about?

Oh, never mind.

You'll see, dearest.
He'll come back to you.

- Who could stay away from you for long?
- Dearest.

- Come with me and we'll have some tea.
- All right.

Lizzy, are you really as indifferent
to Mr. Darcy's departure as you seem?

Indifferent? I am delighted he's gone.

Wait till I tell you
the monstrous thing he did.

It's absurd, Sir William.
I shall never believe it. Never.

Mr. Collins came here to propose
marriage to one of my daughters.

That may have been his purpose
in coming here, Mrs. Bennet, but...

Oh, there you are, Elizabeth.

- This is all your fault.
- What's my fault, Mama?

He says Charlotte is going
to marry Mr. Collins.

If that isn't your fault,
I don't know whose it is.

- Charlotte?
- How delightful, Sir William.

- Well, thank you, Miss Jane.
- But Charlotte...

- Charlotte's going to marry Mr. Collins?
- On Tuesday, week, to be precise.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh doesn't believe
in long engagements.

But, Sir William,
Mr. Collins wants to marry Lizzy.

- Oh, Lydia, be quiet.
- The child is right, Lizzy.

Are you sure, Sir William,
that you hadn't been misinformed?

I am quite positive, Mrs. Bennet.

- Mrs. Bennet.
- Oh, there you are.

Come in and share in the rejoicing.

Mrs. Bennet,
I know you'll understand my feelings.

Such a happy event.

But then to lose one's
dearest daughter...

Oh, well, I'm still quite overcome.

It's probably the unexpectedness of it
that has overcome you, Lady Lucas.

And Mr. Collins' conduct is so very odd.
Perhaps some tea will revive you.

Lizzy.

Dear Charlotte, I... Come with me.

Well, Lady Lucas, little did I think
Charlotte would one day take my place...

...as mistress of this house.

No doubt she and Mr. Collins would like
to go over the place...

...and see what they're going to inherit.

Mr. Collins, why don't you
go to the pantry...

...and get the maid
to show you the silver.

Oh, Charlotte, dear, I beg you,
postpone the marriage for a time.

I'm only thinking of your happiness.

Happiness, Lizzy?

In marriage, happiness
is just a matter of chance.

But, Charlotte, his defects of character.

You know him so little.

Well, ignorance is bliss, Lizzy. If one's
to spend one's life with a person...

...it's best to know as little
as possible of his defects.

After all, one will find them out
soon enough.

Well, luckily Hunsford
isn't the end of the world.

You must come and visit me,
Lizzy, very soon. Promise.

- I promise.
- Good.

- Put those over here, Patrick.
- Yes, madam.

Those will go on the chair, Nellie.

Big one against the wall,
small one there. That's fine.

- That will be all, Nellie.
- Thank you, miss.

- Thank you. That's very kind of you.
- You're welcome, miss.

- Now, Lizzy, give me your key.
- Don't you bother. I'll do this myself.

Oh, you'll not. You're my guest.

- You're going to sit by and look on.
- But, Charlotte...

This is my house
and you'll do just as I say.

I tremble and obey.

While you unpack, I'll remove the dust
and change my dress.

Did you have a hard time persuading
your mother to let you come?

Oh, no, no. It wasn't so difficult.

Jane went to London, you know,
to stay with Aunt Gardiner.

So of course she had to have
somebody to go with her.

And Papa... Papa had some writing to do.

So he was quite delighted to get
a couple of us out of the house.

Two daughters out of five:
That represents 40 percent of the noise.

Why, Lizzy, this is daring.

Yes, isn't it?
I haven't dared show it to Mama.

Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins.

- Oh, Lizzy, do look.
- Mr. Collins.

Well, what?

It's Lady Catherine de Bourgh
and her daughter, Anne.

Is that all? I expected at least
that the pigs had gone into the garden.

Oh, pigs. I must go down at once.

Oh, is my hair tidy?

So that's the great Lady Catherine.
Now I see where he learned his manners.

- Where who learned his manners?
- Well, Mr. Darcy, of course.

I'll be back in a moment, my dear.

- Yes, yes, Mr. Collins. Proceed.
- Your ladyship.

- How do you do?
- Miss de Bourgh.

How do you do?

Now, let me see, Lady Catherine.
A flannel petticoat for Mrs. Hodge.

Quarter pound of tea for Martha Spratt,
a hundredweight of coals for the Burtons.

But nothing for the Smees,
do you understand? Nothing whatever.

You must draw a firm line between
the deserving poor and the undeserving.

What wise benevolence.

Are the chickens
still laying satisfactorily?

- They've fallen off these last days.
- Then give them hot food, Mrs. Collins.

If that has no effect,
then it means they're incorrigible.

They must be killed and boiled.
Killed and boiled.

- Anne, you're not getting cold, I hope.
- A little, Mama.

Well, Mr. Collins, I shall expect
you all to dinner this evening.

Goodbye, Mrs. Collins. Goodbye.

- Permit me to say how I appreciate...
- Drive on.

- your ladyship's affability and kindness.

What extraordinary condescension.

I'm quite delighted of this,
for Miss Elizabeth's sake.

Now, my dear Miss Elizabeth,
permit me to show you...

...some of the priceless art treasures
of Lady Catherine's.

This, one of the finest timepieces
in the country.

Observe the noble proportions,
Miss Eliza.

And the ornaments.
What magnificence. What taste.

Very true, Mr. Collins. Very true.

I've never met
a painter or an architect...

...who did not
congratulate me upon my taste.

There. What did I say?

And now, let me call your
attention to the mantelpiece.

Observe, Miss Eliza,
solid marble entirely hand-carved.

Mrs. Collins, you will be surprised...

...to find someone you know
dining with us this evening.

Oh, there you are. I was just about
to tell the ladies, Darcy...

...of your sudden arrival
at Rosings this afternoon.

- Mr. Darcy.
- Miss Elizabeth.

A happy meeting, Miss Elizabeth.

Mrs. Collins, you know
one of my nephews, I believe.

Darcy. Darcy.

A pleasure, Mrs. Collins.

And this is another nephew.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mrs. Collins.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet,
Colonel Fitzwilliam.

And, oh, yes,
Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins.

How do you do?

I thought you were in London,
Mr. Darcy.

Oh, yes. But my cousin
and I left there this morning.

Rather unexpectedly,
as a matter of fact.

All your departures seem to be
rather unexpected, Mr. Darcy.

You know, Miss Elizabeth,
I have thought a great deal...

...of what you said to me at Netherfield...
Thank you.

- about laughing more.
I've tried to follow your advice.

I hope it worked.
Do you feel happier now?

- I've never felt more miserable in my life.
- It's doubtless the lack of exercise.

You'll feel happier
when the hunting season begins.

Well, Darcy.

Now I know what took you
into Herefordshire this summer.

You also know what drove him out.
He liked the landscape...

...but the natives,
Colonel Fitzwilliam, the natives.

What boors. What savages.
Utterly insupportable.

Isn't that so, Mr. Darcy?

It evidently amuses you to think so,
Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Bennet, come here.

Go and talk to your husband.
I wish to speak to Miss Bennet.

Yes, Lady Catherine.

Be seated.

Have you any accomplishments,
Miss Bennet?

Accomplishments. Well, I don't know
whether Mr. Darcy would think I had.

- Do you sing and play?
- A little.

You should perform for us one day.

Our instrument here is one
of the best in the country.

You have several sisters, I understand.

- Four.
- Four. No brothers?

None, unfortunately for us.

Yes. Your father's estate
is entailed to Mr. Collins, I believe.

- It is.
- For Mrs. Collins' sake, I'm glad of it.

Otherwise, I see no occasion for entailing
estates away from the female line.

When you marry, Darcy,
don't make that mistake.

It was never made
in Sir Lewis de Bourgh's family.

Anne, as you know, is the sole heiress.

- Do you draw, Miss Bennet?
- No, Lady Catherine.

- What? None of you?
- Not one of us.

But how strange.
Why didn't your governess see to that?

- We never had a governess.
- No governess?

I never heard of such a thing.

Miss Bennet seems to have got on
very well without one.

Don't talk nonsense, Darcy.

Are any of your younger sisters
out in society?

- All of them.
- All? How very odd.

Lady Catherine, I think it would be
very hard on younger sisters...

...to be without society or amusement
until the elder ones were married.

It would hardly promote sisterly affection
or even delicacy of mind.

Upon my word, Miss Bennet.

You express your opinions
very decidedly.

Miss Bennet is nothing
if not decided, Aunt Catherine.

Dinner is served, milady.

Come, I hate cold soup.

Your arm, Fitzwilliam.

May I be allowed to continue
your interrogation?

- There are so many things to find out.
- It seems to be a family failing.

No, Darcy.
You are to take Anne into dinner.

Mr. Collins will take Miss Bennet.

I'm afraid you'll have to
go in alone, Mrs. Collins.

Mr. Darcy's sister, Georgiana,
is a very accomplished musician.

And I too should have been
a great proficient...

...if I'd ever learnt.

You would have been proficient
at anything, Lady Catherine.

- So would Anne.
- That goes without saying.

Darcy?

Do come here.

Sit down, sit down.

I was just telling Mrs. Collins...

...how exquisitely dear Anne
would have played.

If her health had permitted her to study.

- I don't doubt it.
- Your dear mother was so fond of Anne.

- Yes, I know.
- "You have an only daughter"...

...she used to say to me.

"And I have an only son.

It's as though providence
had created them for one another"...

...she used to say.

Incredible. I mean...

...exactly.

I... I mean...

...excuse me.

Don't stop, Miss Elizabeth,
that was charming.

Isn't that the time to stop?
When people still think you charming?

If I went on,
you might change your mind.

Miss Bennet.

I'm summoned.

That was quite creditable, my dear.

Miss Bennet wouldn't play
at all badly...

...if she practiced more.

Practice, Miss Bennet, practice.
You can't do enough of it.

Mrs. Collins has no
pianoforte, of course...

...but you're very welcome
to practice here every day.

Oh, thank you, Lady Catherine.

There's a very fair instrument
in the housekeeper's room.

You'll disturb no one there.

You are really too gracious,
Lady Catherine...

...but I shouldn't care
to disturb the housekeeper.

I protest. Why talk of practicing
when Miss Bennet should be playing?

Come, Miss Bennet.
I insist on your favoring us again.

There is, needless to say,
a rich assortment of music here.

My aunt means quite kindly,
Miss Elizabeth.

Her manner is sometimes unfortunate.

Having already met you...

...I was happily prepared
for your aunt's manner.

Lizzy, Mr. Darcy's in the study.

He's been waiting for you
for nearly an hour.

Let him wait. I don't want to see him.

I never want to see him again.

Lizzy, what's happened?
What's come over you?

Do you want to know the reason why
Mr. Bingley left Netherfield for London?

His high-and-mightiness, Mr. Darcy.

- I thought it was Caroline Bingley.
- She was half the reason.

I've just heard about it this very moment
from Colonel Fitzwilliam.

- Colonel Fitzwilliam?
- He didn't know I was Jane's sister.

He was just holding forth
about the virtues of his precious cousin.

Telling me how unselfish he was and
the amount of trouble he'd gone to...

...to save his friend Bingley
from an impossible marriage.

You can tell Mr. Darcy
that I'm not at home.

He must have seen you come in.
I can't tell him that.

After all, he is Lady Catherine's nephew.

Lizzy, for my sake.

Very well, Charlotte, for your sake.

Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.

Good morning, Mr. Darcy.

Mrs. Collins gave me leave
to wait on you.

It's no use.

I've struggled in vain.

I must tell you how much...

...I admire and love you.

Miss Elizabeth...

...my life and happiness
are in your hands.

These last weeks
since I left Netherfield...

...have been empty,
meaningless days and nights.

I thought I could put you
out of my mind.

That inclination would
give way to judgment.

I walked the streets of London...

...reminding myself of the unsuitability
of such a marriage.

Of the obstacles between us.

But it won't do.

- I can struggle against you no longer.
- Mr. Darcy.

I remind myself again and again that
I have obligations of family and position.

Obligations I was born to.
Nothing I tell myself matters.

I love you.

I love you.

- Do you know what you're saying?
- Yes, my darling.

I'm asking you to marry me.

Do you expect me to thank you
for this extraordinary offer of marriage?

Am I supposed to feel flattered
that you have so overcome...

...your aversion to my family
that you're ready to marry into it?

Do you expect me to be glad
your family is inferior to mine?

I suppose I should congratulate you
on winning the battle...

...between your unwilling affection
and my unworthiness.

But I have never
desired your good opinion.

And if you were not
so lacking in perception...

...you might have
spared yourself my refusal.

Is this the only reply
I am to be honored with?

I might, perhaps, deserve to be told
why I am rejected...

...and with so little civility.

I also might deserve to know why...

...determined, evidently,
to offend and insult me...

...you chose to tell me
that you liked me against your will.

Against your reason.
Against even your character.

- If the manner of my expression...
- The manner of your proposal...

...is only one reason for my incivility,
if I have been uncivil.

Had my feeling been favorable...
Which they never could have.

- but even if they had, I still have every
reason in the world to think ill of you.

Do you think anything would tempt me
to accept the man...

...who has destroyed
the happiness of my sister?

The sweetest soul that ever lived.

How could you do it?

Knowing Jane,
how could you hurt her so?

In observing them together, I could not
believe that she really loved Charles.

As his friend I considered it my duty
to advise his cause.

Even without this, your character was
revealed in your treatment of Wickham.

You take eager interest
in that gentleman's concern.

Who that knows his misfortunes...

...could fail to take an interest?
- "His misfortune."

Brought on by your
injustice and betrayal.

Where Wickham is concerned,
I have nothing to say.

In other words, you dare not speak
because you know you're guilty.

And that is your opinion of me.

Perhaps my faults might
have been overlooked...

...had I concealed my struggles...

...and flattered you that no doubt
of my course had ever entered my mind.

I made the mistake
of being honest with you.

Honesty is a greatly overrated virtue.

Silence would have been more agreeable.

I'm not ashamed of my scruples
about your family.

- They were natural.
- And should have been kept to yourself.

Let us end this distasteful subject.

Your arrogance. Your conceit.

Your selfish disregard
of other people's feelings...

...made me dislike you from the first.

I hadn't known you a week
before I decided...

...you were the last man I'd ever be
prevailed upon to marry.

You've said quite enough, madam.

I understand your feelings...

...and have now only to be ashamed
of having confessed my own.

Forgive me for having taken up
so much of your valuable time.

And accept my best wishes
for your health and happiness.

- Allow me, Miss Eliza.
- Lizzy.

Oh, Jane.

- Lizzy.
- I thought you were in London.

No, they sent for me this morning.
Lizzy, it's so awful.

- What is it?
- It's poor little Lydia.

She's run away with Mr. Wickham.

- Mr. Wickham.
- And they didn't go to Gretna Green.

- Lizzy, they're not married.
- Not married?

And we can't find them anywhere.

Oh, Jane.

You tell Charlotte. I'm going in.

Beware of officers, I kept on telling her.

They're fickle, they're unprincipled.

They never have a sixpence.

You're right there, my dear.

Mr. Wickham owes money
to every tradesman in Meryton.

Not to mention gambling debts
to the tune of 500 or 600 pounds...

...at the very least.

- Lizzy.
- Oh, Lizzy.

Oh, you don't know
how I've suffered, Lizzy.

Such... Such spasms.
Such palpitations.

Such thunderings.

Yes, Mama, I know, I know.

No broth?

Oh, I forgot those.

- When did it happen, Aunt Philips?
- Only yesterday.

It seems they're hiding
somewhere in London.

Your father's gone to look for them.

And you know what will happen
when he finds them.

He'll challenge Mr. Wickham to a duel
and he'll be killed.

And then what will become of us?

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

Oh, the vultures. They're here already.

Poor Mrs. Bennet.

I just heard the news.
It's too dreadful.

Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet.

Yours is a misfortune
which no lapse of time can alleviate.

No lapse of time.
The death of your daughter...

...would have been a blessing
compared to this.

- Mr. Collins.
- What is it, my dear?

Poor Mrs. Bennet,
you're distressing her.

Distressing her?
I'm bringing her consolation.

May I add that this false step
of one of your daughters...

...must prove very injurious
to the fortunes of all the others.

Oh, he's right.
They'll never get married now.

What's to become of them?

I shudder to think
what Lady Catherine will say to all this.

Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy just called.

- I've shown him into the library.
- Mr. Darcy.

Oh, that odious man.
Don't you see him, Lizzy.

Madam, don't forget that Mr. Darcy is
a nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Perhaps it would be better if I saw him.

Thank you, Mr. Collins,
I'd prefer to see him myself.

Oh, Mr. Collins.

Mr. Darcy. What brings you here?

Feel no alarm, madam.

I've no intention
of reopening a painful subject.

After what you said the other day...

...that chapter is definitely closed.

Bad news travels fast, Miss Bennet.

A few hours after you left Hunsford...

...I heard about George Wickham
and your sister.

I felt it my duty to come at once.

To triumph over us, I suppose.

To offer you my services.

Miss Bennet, I told you the other day...

...that where George Wickham
was concerned, I chose to be silent.

What has happened to your sister
has made me change my mind.

You have a right to the truth.

George Wickham will never marry
your sister, Miss Bennet.

Her case...

...was not the first.

You mean that Wickham...?

My own sister, Georgiana.

Your sister.

Yes.

She was younger even than Lydia.

Oh, Mr. Darcy.

Georgiana has a considerable fortune
in her own right.

His plan was to elope with her...

...and then, under the threat
of publishing her disgrace...

...to force my consent to their marriage.

By the mercy of providence...

...I discovered the plot in time.

Your sister has been less fortunate.

Miss Elizabeth...

...may I ask if everything possible
is being done to recover her?

My father has gone to London.

He and my uncle are searching for her.

If there is any help that I could give...

...I would be only too happy.
- Thank you.

I'm sure they will find her.

It will all be settled somehow.

I'm afraid I've stayed too long.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

This is perhaps the last time
I shall see you.

God bless you, Elizabeth.

- Mr. Darcy.
- Oh, Lizzy.

I thought it was...

Has he gone?

Yes.

He's just riding away.

Riding away.

Will he ever ride back?

That chapter...

...is definitely...

...closed.
- Lizzy.

What are you talking about?

Oh, Jane.

Jane, you don't know
what happened at Hunsford.

Something so extraordinary,
so unbelievable.

- What?
- He asked me to marry him.

- Who, Lizzy?
- Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy?

Oh, but Lizzy.
What did you say to him?

What did I say to him?

What did I say to him.

I said I hated him.

I said I never wanted to see him again.

Now, suddenly, I...

Jane, I love him.

- You love him?
- I'm so dreadfully unhappy.

Oh, Lizzy, dearest.

I brought it all on myself.
It's all my own stupid fault.

Heavens, how could I
have misjudged him so?

What a fool I've been.
What a despicable fool.

Oh, Lizzy, dearest,
we all make mistakes.

- You mustn't feel...
- How selfish I'm being.

As if I were the only one
to be made unhappy.

Poor Jane, my darling.

You've never done anything wrong.
Look what's happened to you.

- It's not fair.
- Oh, Lizzy.

I'm not really unhappy.

It was worse in the beginning
when I always expected him to write...

...or even to come back.
But I don't do that anymore.

I just dream of him.

Lizzy, you've got to learn to dream,
like I do.

Sometimes I dream
we're out walking in the woods...

...and the primroses are out.

Sometimes he comes
riding up to the door.

Riding on a white horse, Lizzy.

And he goes in, and I'm waiting for him.

And sometimes we're dancing.

And it's the waltz, Lizzy.

And the music's playing,
lights are shining.

Oh, it feels as if
it could go on forever.

Oh, Lizzy, you shouldn't let me
go on like this.

Oh, well done, Mr. Darcy.

The question is, what to do now?

More news from Meryton.

Another bulletin about
your beloved Bennets, Charles.

"There is still no trace
of Lydia or Wickham.

Poor old Mr. Bennet
has come home in despair."

Do you mean
they've given up the search?

So it seems.

Listen.

"At the Assembly Ball last week...

...the Bennet family
was conspicuous by its absence.

Shall I tell you why?

Because the Entertainment Committee
had dropped a gentle hint...

...that, in view of the scandal,
its presence would not be welcome."

Isn't that exquisitely funny, Mr. Darcy?

Exquisitely. Just think
how you would roll with laughter...

...if it happened to yourself.

"Only yesterday, I saw her sisters,
Jane and Elizabeth...

...almost running down Market Street...

...in an attempt
to escape from their disgrace."

That's what comes
of your chattering, Caroline.

I'm sorry, Darcy.
I've ruined your table, I'm afraid.

It's nothing. It might have happened
to anybody in the same circumstances.

I'd better stop playing
before something worse happens.

- Good night, Darcy.
- Good night.

Good night, Caroline.

I don't believe I shall ever
get back my strength.

It won't be long now, Mama.

You'll feel so much better
when we move away from this place.

- Won't she, Papa?
- Well, I sincerely hope so.

This house with
its sad associations...

...and now the people
being so dreadfully unkind.

It's no wonder you're ill.

Here's some delicious
chicken broth, Mama.

You must eat it while it's hot.

No. No, thank you, Lizzy.
I couldn't.

You don't know how ill I feel.

Did you say it was chicken broth?

Well, perhaps...

...if I make a great effort.

There, Mama.

There.

Papa, what was that you were saying
about those nice cheap lodgings...

...you heard of by the sea?
- At Margate, my dear?

Yes, Margate.

To think that it should come
to Margate.

No, Lizzy, I...
I couldn't eat any more.

- Not after that.
- Oh, but Mama.

Everyone says Margate's such
a charming place and so inexpensive.

What does it matter where we go,
as long as we go together?

Yes, Mama. We'll make
a little world of our own.

Yes. A Bennet utopia, my dear.

A domestic paradise...

...where nobody shall ever talk
more than is strictly necessary.

Oh, Mr. Bennet.

Where nobody shall ever play scales
on the piano, Lizzy.

Where nobody shall ever
even think of bonnets...

...or tea parties or gossip or...
- Why do you have to tell Ma?

Tell them all. Tell them all.

My poor nerves.

Stop squabbling for goodness' sake.

Mary says I can't take my
musical box to the new house.

- Listen to it.
- It's not as bad as your horrid old bird.

Polly is not a horrid old bird.

And if you think that I can
bear to listen to that thing...

- Aren't you ashamed with Mama so ill?
- A Bennet utopia, my dear.

But, Lizzy, it's not fair.

If Mary can take her parrot,
why shouldn't I take my box?

Why shouldn't we take the piano?
Why shouldn't Papa take his books?

Why should Mama have to leave
her collection of china?

Come along. Tell Mama you're sorry.
Go on.

- I'm sorry, Mama.
- We oughtn't to have made such a fuss.

I'm sorry.

Mr. Collins.

I took liberty and came
across the garden. May I be permitted?

Come in, Mr. Collins. Come in.

Thank you. Thank you.

Oh, ladies.

Miss Eliza.

I trust, madam,
I see you in better health.

I wish you did, Mr. Collins.

Nobody can imagine how weak I feel...

...as if I were fading away.

Well, it's not to be wondered
at in the circumstances.

I'm sorry to see that Mr. Bennet
also looks far from well.

He seems to have aged in the last
few weeks, don't you think, Miss Eliza?

Does he? Perhaps the wish
is father to the thought.

I suppose you have heard that
we are leaving Longbourn, Mr. Collins.

A wise decision, madam.

Find some remote and secluded spot...

...where no one has heard
of your daughter.

Oh, my poor little Lydia.
What can have happened to her?

What is it, Papa?

It's from your Uncle Gardiner.
He's found Lydia.

- He's found her?
- Yes.

"And Wickham asked
for 1000 pounds at your death...

...and 100 pounds a year
during your lifetime.

These terms seemed moderate
and I took upon myself...

...the responsibility of agreeing
to them."

He's agreed to Wickham's terms.

He doesn't seem to be
asking very much, does he?

Considering what
he'd demanded when...

I mean, considering
the sort of man he is.

Why do you think he's content
with so little, Papa?

Well, this is what your uncle says.
Here. Postscript.

"It seems Wickham recently came into
a very considerable sum of money."

Oh, I see.

- Well, that explains it.
- It doesn't explain anything, my child.

We know that Wickham's in debt.
We know he's extravagant. A gambler.

And yet suddenly,
he has so much money...

...that he'll take a girl like Lydia
for 2 pounds a week.

There are two things I want to know:

One is how much money your uncle
has laid down to bring this about.

The other is
how can I ever repay him?

Oh, well, let's go and break
the good news to your mother.

What's that?

What can it be?

It's Lydia.

- They're married. Mama!
- Married?

Mama. Mama! It's Lydia.
They're married.

- What?
- They're married!

- Look, Mama.
- The ring.

Oh, my dear, dear son-in-law.
May I give you a hug too?

What do you think of that, Kitty?

It's better than one of your old books.

Well, Jane.

- Oh, Lydia.
- Elizabeth.

You can't imagine the fun we've had.

Oh, Mama.

That will do for now.

Did you see?
We got the liveries secondhand.

But they're awfully smart,
don't you think so?

Are they your servants?

- We're rich, Mama.
- Rich.

Oh, my sweetest child. Rich!

May I ask how you have suddenly
become so rich, Mr. Wickham?

Well, it was quite a surprise.

One of my... My uncles
died a few weeks ago.

An uncle I haven't seen since childhood.

He'd been living in Jamaica.

- Yes, Jamaica.
- And he left you a fortune?

Oh, a modest competence,
but its coming was very timely.

- Very timely, indeed.
- Very timely.

Oh, dear George.

We're all so proud of you,
aren't we, Lizzy?

- Oh, prodigiously.
- So handsome and so distinguished.

And two footmen in livery.

Come, my loves. Oh, think of it.

A daughter married
and only 16 last June.

- Papa.
- Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet.

We shan't have to leave Longbourn.

People can't say anything
now that they're married.

We won't have to go to Margate.

Why, how glum you look, Papa.

What's happened?
What does all this mean?

Oh, how do you do, Mr. Collins?

How's your funny
old lady thingamabob?

Oh, I forgot. Wicky, Papa.

If you'll excuse me, my dear.

Goodbye, Mr. Collins.

Oh, well. Papa will get
to like you in time, Wicky.

Nobody can help liking you.

Don't you envy me, Lizzy?

Ask me that question again
five years from now.

Five years? Who cares
what happens in five years?

Oh, Mama, do you think the servants
would like to see my ring?

I'm sure of it.

Well, then let's all go out
to the kitchen.

Come along. I want everybody to see.

You too, Mr. Collins!

We old married people
must stick together.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Lady Catherine. Lady Catherine.

What an honor for this humble house.

No honor was intended, Mr. Collins.

- Mrs. Bennet, I presume.
- How do you do, Lady Catherine?

Such a pleasure
to make your acquaintance.

- Do come in.
- Thank you.

Miss Bennet.

Come right in, Lady Catherine.
Come right in.

Won't you sit down?

Stupid child.

Things are in such confusion today.

So I see.

Yes. Yes.

I wish to speak to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Elizabeth.

Lizzy, Lady Catherine
wishes to speak to you.

I wish to speak to Miss Bennet alone.

You will kindly leave us, Mrs. Bennet?

Oh, certainly, ma'am. If you wish it.

I do wish it.

Come, children.

I hope we shall all have the pleasure
of seeing you later.

Possibly, Mrs. Bennet, possibly.

Yes.

Mr. Collins.

Be seated, Miss Bennet.

My poor nerves.

He's very young.

Come, come. Be seated, Miss Bennet.

Stop dawdling.

Miss Bennet...

...a report has reached me
of a most alarming nature.

I was told that you,
Miss Elizabeth Bennet...

...was shortly to be engaged
to my nephew, Mr. Darcy.

Of course, I could not believe
this report could possibly be true.

Nevertheless, I immediately resolved
upon setting out to see you.

If it could not be true, madam...

...I wonder you gave yourself
the trouble of coming so far.

I came to insist upon the report
being universally contradicted.

But won't your coming here
seem rather to confirm it?

Insolent, headstrong girl.
I'm ashamed of you.

Is this your gratitude
for my attentions to you at Rosings?

Miss Bennet, I am not to be trifled with.

Has my nephew made you
an offer of marriage?

You've declared that
to be impossible.

Impossible? I have the power
to make it impossible.

Are you aware that as trustee
of my sister's estate...

...I can strip Mr. Darcy
of every shilling he has?

And if he were to marry
against my wishes...

...I should not hesitate
in carrying out my power.

Now what have you to say?

Nothing whatever.

I take no interest in matters
that are none of my business.

Bold words, my girl, bold words.

But remember this:

Marry him and you will be poor.

That would be no novelty for me,
Lady Catherine.

Once and for all,
are you engaged to him?

No, I am not.

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

No, I will not.

So you do expect him
to propose to you?

I have no right to expect anything...

...excepting, perhaps,
never to see him again.

What? Do you have the impertinence
to pretend that he isn't in love with you?

I can't imagine that he would be.
Not now.

Then why his kind consideration
for your sister?

Was that the act of a man
who isn't in love?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Possibly, you don't.
But that rascal, Wickham, does.

Imagine it. My nephew, Darcy...

...scouring the courts and alleys
of London looking for him.

Setting him up with an income.

Forcing him to marry
that silly little flibbertigibbet.

Did he do that?

Thank you for telling me,
Lady Catherine.

- Thank you.
- I will not be thanked.

Let us have no more
of this mummery, Miss Bennet.

I shall not leave until you have given me
the assurance I ask.

In that case, Lady Catherine,
I had better ring for the butler.

He will show you to your bedroom.

Or if you decide, after all, not to stay...

...he will conduct you to your carriage.

- Yes, Miss Elizabeth?
- Oh, Matthews...

...I have the impression that her ladyship
wishes to be taken to her carriage.

Goodbye, Lady Catherine.

I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet.

I send no compliments to your mother.

You deserve no such attention.

I am seriously displeased.

- Well?
- A blank refusal.

- She refused to see me?
- She refused not to see you.

- Did she?
- Most emphatically.

But that's not the worst, Darcy.

I told her that I could strip you
of your fortune if I chose to.

But she refused to be
the least bit impressed.

- You see?
- Yes, I see, Darcy.

I grant I was wrong about that.

But there's one thing I can't agree with.

You told me at Rosings
she was nothing if not decided.

That's not true.
The young woman is positively obstinate.

What? Did she refuse anything else?

Well, she... She merely refused
to refuse to marry you.

Why, Darcy. Darcy. What manners.

- Have you gone mad?
- Yes, yes. Quite mad.

And I don't believe I shall
ever be quite sane again.

But you wouldn't wish me to be.

No, I don't think I would.
She's right for you, Darcy.

You were a spoiled child.

We don't want to go on spoiling.

What you need is a woman
who will stand up to you.

I think you've found her.

Well, Darcy,
help me into my carriage.

How can I ever thank you?

Upon my word, I'm not accustomed
to so much gratitude.

Everybody seems to be
thanking me today.

Drive on, Smith.
Don't stand there and keep me waiting.

Shut the door, Darcy.

Go into the house.

How do you do, Mrs. Bennet?

Mr. Darcy. Well, this is an honor.

First, Lady Catherine and now you.

I was traveling with my aunt,
and I thought I would give my...

Jane. Jane.
Mama, I can't find Jane anywhere.

- How do you do, Miss Elizabeth?
- How do you do?

Jane is somewhere in the garden,
I believe.

Oh, Miss Jane, I have a message
for her from the Bingleys.

Should we...?

- Should we...? Fine.
- Oh, why, yes. Yes. Let's do that.

- Will you excuse us, madam?
- Very gladly, Mr. Darcy.

Miss Bennet.

I have a confession to make.

I didn't tell the exact truth,
I'm afraid...

...about the message
from the Bingleys.

- They didn't send one?
- They didn't for the good reason...

...that Bingley had every intention
of bringing it himself.

- Himself?
- Yes. He came back to Netherfield.

I was rather expecting
to see him here this afternoon.

Oh, Mr. Darcy, this is your doing.

Shall I tell you
who is really responsible...

...for your sister's happiness,
Miss Elizabeth?

Caroline Bingley.

- Miss Bingley?
- Yes.

She sent her brother back
by dwelling on all the reasons...

...why he should stay away.

I only approved a decision that he had
already taken on his own account.

Mr. Darcy, there's something else.

I hardly know how
to put it into words.

What you did for Lydia.

I? But, I assure you
I did nothing, Miss Bennet.

Lady Catherine was not of that opinion.

What? But I never gave her leave
to tell you that.

Gave her leave?

Do you mean to say that...?

I wanted to know
if I would be welcome.

She came as my ambassador.

Your ambassador?

I never imagined that that
was the language of diplomacy.

You know, she likes you
in spite of the language.

- Me?
- Yes, she really does.

I wish I had known it.
I wouldn't have been so rude.

But that was what she liked.

People flatter her so much,
she enjoys an occasional change.

I'm afraid I gave her a good change.

She went away delighted.

You confirmed the good opinion
she'd formed of you at Rosings.

I don't know what to say or think.

Except that you must allow me
to thank you for what you did for Lydia.

If the facts were known
to the rest of my family...

...I should not merely have
my own gratitude to express.

If you must thank me,
let it be for yourself alone.

Whatever I did, I thought only of you.

Oh, Mr. Darcy.

When I think of how
I've misjudged you...

...the horrible things I said...

...I'm so ashamed.

Oh, no.
It's I who should be ashamed.

Of my arrogance. Of my stupid pride.

Of all except one thing.

One thing:

I'm not ashamed of having loved you.

Elizabeth...

...dare I ask you again?

Elizabeth.

Dear, beautiful Lizzy.

Lord bless my soul.

Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet.

Miracles will never cease, Mrs. Bennet.

Mr. Darcy.
Who would have believed it?

Oh, my sweetest, sweetest Lizzy.

What pin money she'll have.
What jewels. What carriages.

Jane's is nothing to it.
Absolutely nothing.

And such a charming man.

I do hope you overlook
my having disliked him so much.

Oh, dear, dear Mr. Darcy.

A house in town,
10,000 pounds a year.

Of course, poor Jane
will only have five.

I wonder if there's
any dish he's fond of?

I'll... I'll go to the kitchen at once.

Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet.

Look.

Well, perhaps it's lucky we didn't
drown any of them at birth, my dear.

Mr. Bennet, you must find out
what money they have.

Colonel Foster can tell you
about Mr. Denny.

And Sir William knows
all about Mr. Witherington.

You must go at once, Mr. Bennet.
This very afternoon.

Think of it. Three of them married.

And the other two
just tottering on the brink.

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