Miss Bennet. I've been walking for some time in the hope of meeting you.
Will you do me the honour of giving me five minutes of your time?
I cannot believe sir that we have anything left to say to each other.
You may have nothing left to say to me,
but there are certain matters which I intend making known to you.
Out of justice I demand your attention.
As you wish, sir.
Then, may we enter the parsonage.
Miss Elizabeth, two offenses of a very different nature
you have laid at my charge.
The first was that I detached mister Bingley from your sister.
Do you deny that you did so?
I'd often seen Bingley in love before.
But I'd not long been in Hertfordshire before I perceived
that his partiality for miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him.
Your sister, though she received his attentions with pleasure,
did not invite them by any participation of sentiment.
My sister is ever too modest in temperament,
too correct in behaviour to wear her heart on her sleeve.
The propriety of your sister's behaviour, and of your own,
is more than outbalanced however by certain other factors.
The situation of your mother's family
and wild behaviour of your younger sisters to name but two.
Forgive me, it pains me to offend you, but they must be pointed out.
It may pain you to offend me, but it does not make you stop.
I therefore engaged in the office of pointing out
to my friend the certain evils of his choice.
If I have caused your sister pain, I'm truly sorry for it.
The second offense of which I am accused
is that I ruined the prospects of mister Wickham.
I can only refute this by laying before you
the whole of his connection with my family.
My father supported him at school and afterwards at Cambridge
hoping the church would be his profession.
This much I know. So far, we agree.
My excellent father died five years ago,
and his attachment to mister Wickham was so steady,
that in his will he desired that a valuable family living
might be his as soon as it became vacant.
Mister Wickham wrote to me,
informing me that he did not intend to take orders
but resolved instead to study the law.
He resigned all claim to assistance in the church,
and accepted in return the sum of three thousand pounds.
For about three years I heard little of him
save that his studying the law was a mere pretense,
and that his life one of idleness and dissipation.
That cannot be.
On the decease of the incumbent of the living
which had been designed for him,
he applied to me again for the presentation.
I knew that mister Wickham
with his vicious and idle propensity should not be a clergyman.
Idle, perhaps. But vicious, I cannot agree.
I must mention a circumstance which I'm reluctant to unfold to any human being.
My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, went last summer to Ramsgate.
Thither also went mister Wickham.
And he so far recommended himself to Georgina that she was persuaded
to believe herself in love and to consent to an elopement.
Your sister, of whom everyone speaks so highly?
She was less than sixteen at the time.
No one can blame her for her lack of judgment.
Mister Wickham's chief object was undoubtedly
my sister's fortune which is thirty thousand pounds.
But I cannot help supposing that the hope
of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement.
Happily, Georgina acknowledged the whole to me.
You can imagine how I felt and how I acted.
I wrote to mister Wickham, who left the place immediately,
and whom I did not see again until he arrived last year in Hertfordshire.
I have said what I have to say.
And I ask you to consider it without prejudice.
I will only add, god bless you.
Welcome home Jane!
Aha, oh, Lizzy, I'm glad that you've come back.
Jane child, did you see mister Bingley and his sisters in London?
No ma'am, I beg you not to mention it.
Although it is all past and forgotten it still pains me a little.
Ah... Well I'm happy to see you in undiminished beauty anyway.
I shall find you an establishment soon enough.
Jane, do you find any pleasant men?
Have you had any flirting?
I was in great hopes that one of you
would have got a husband before you came home.
I declare Jane will be quite an old maid soon, she's almost three and twenty.
Good lord, how ashamed I should be of not being married before three and twenty.
Lord, how I should like to be married before any of you,
and then I would chaperone you about to all the balls.
You see, Lizzy, your younger sisters are as silly as ever.
Why don't we not all walk into Meryton this afternoon
and see how everyone goes on?
Mister Wickham is there. -He's quite our favourite now.
And colonel Forster. He's married now, you know.
Mrs. Forster is only seventeen.
If you don't make haste Lizzy, you will not see them anymore.
The Loneshire are leaving in a fortnight.
More's the pity.
Are they indeed. I'm delighted to hear it.
Lizzy, how can you be so unfeeling.
They are going to be encamped near Brighton all Summer, and just imagine:
I am going to stay there with colonel and mrs. Forster!
Mama, is this true? Are you going to permit this?
Oh, a little sea bathing will set her up forever.
Does papa know?
Certainly he does. He's happy to give her his blessing.
Ah, Lizzy.
Papa, is it true that Lydia is to go to Brighton with the Forsters?
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
at so little expense as under the present circumstances.
Sir, I beg you not to allow her to go.
If you were aware of the disadvantages to us all which must arise
from Lydia's imprudent and unguarded manner,
I'm sure you would judge differently in the affair.
What has she frightened away some of your lovers?
Oh, my poor little Lizzy.
Come, show me a list of the pitiful villains
who've been kept aloof by Lydia's folly.
My dear father, if you do not take the trouble of checking her exuberant spirit
she will at 16 be the most determined flirt
who ever made herself and her family ridiculous.
Don't make yourself uneasy my love.
The officers will find women better worth their notice.
And we'll never have any peace at Longbourne if she doesn't go to Brighton.
And luckily she's too poor to be an object of prey to anyone.
Lizzy dear, I'm quite parched.
Unlucky in cards, mister Wickham, perhaps lucky in love.
You'll join us in another hand? -I think not, if you'll excuse me.
Can I assist you?
How long was mister Darcy at Rosings?
Nearly two weeks. -And you saw him frequently?
Yes, mister Wickham, almost every day.
Did you find his manner as repulsive as ever?
I think mister Darcy improves on acquaintance.
Indeed? Has he deigned to add a civility to his ordinary style?
For I dare not hope he has improved in essentials.
No, in essentials I believe he is very much what he ever was.
Of course, mister Darcy would no doubt adopt a conciliatory manner
in the presence of his aunt, Lady Catherine,
of whose good opinion and judgement he stands much in awe.
A good deal is to be imputed to his wish
of forwarding his match with miss De Bourgh.
You know of course, mister Darcy wishes to marry miss De Bourgh.
Really? Of that I have no evidence.
Ah mister Wickham, thank you.
This is a sorry occasion.
Meryton will not seem the same without the Loneshire.
Thank you ma'am, for the generous expression of that sentiment.
I do not know what the young people of Hertfordshire
will do with themselves this Summer.
Not that it's any concern of mine.
My daughter, my dear Charlotte, is already settled.
And most respectably so, ma'am.
How the other young women will go on, I cannot conceive.
Elizabeth, how will your family do now that the Loneshire is removed.
We shall do very well, ma'am, as we always have.
Unless by some malicious arrangement
the war office should send us another regiment.
But you will be very dull without us, miss Elizabeth, confess it.
I shall not be dull in the least, I'm invited on a tour of the North
with my uncle and aunt, we go first to Derbyshire.
I look forward to seeing the place of your birth, mister Wickham.
And to forming my own judgement of your reputation.
Look, Pemberley.
My dear, this is the road to Pemberley.
Do let us see it, my dear should you not love
to see a place of which you've heard so much.
Dear aunt, I have no great inclination so see it.
We've travelled far and you must be fatigued.
I own for myself, I'm a little tired of seeing great houses, we've seen so many.
You tired, Lizzy? That I cannot believe. Out of spirits, possibly.
My dear a visit to Pemberley will restore you immediately.
The grounds are delightful, and they've some of the finest woods in the country.
Come along my dears, we're keeping mrs. Reynolds waiting.
I must say I really am most impressed with such a beautiful palace.
The late mister Darcy was a very fond of the picture gallery,
and for that reason the portraits are hung
just they used to be when he was alive, god rest his soul.
The proportions are admirable.
And the furnishing's elegant.
Is your master still absent from Pemberley?
Yes sir, but we expect him tomorrow with a large party of friends.
Dear Elizabeth, do observe these miniatures!
Oh eh, that is a portrait of George Wickham,
son of my later master's steward.
He's now gone into the army, but I'm afraid he's turned out very wild.
And this, this is my master, and very like him.
It was drawn at the same time as the other, about eight years ago.
Oh, I've heard much of your master's fine person, it is a handsome face.
But Elizabeth, you can tell whether it is like or not.
Does the young lady know mister Darcy?
A little.
And do you not think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am?
Yes, very handsome.
I'm sure I know none so handsome.
There is a larger, finer picture of him at the end of the gallery.
Is he often here?
Not as often as I could wish, sir.
But I dare say he may spend half his time with us.
If your master were to marry, you might see more of him.
Yes, ma'am, but I'm sure I do not know when that will be.
Nor do I know anybody who is worthy of him.
If I were to go through the world, I could not meet with a better master.
But I have always observed, that they who are good-natured when children,
are good-natured when they grow up.
I'm sure his father was an excellent man.
Yes ma'am, that he was indeed,
and his son will be just like him.
He is the best landlord and the best master that ever lived.
Some people call him proud, but I'm sure I never saw anything of it.
To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.
I'm sure that I do not deserve such a eulogy, mrs. Reynolds.
Mister Darcy, sir! Forgive me, but we did not expect you until tomorrow.
Miss Elizabeth!
...is met by the stream up the hill.
Do you have the impression, dear husband,
that they are better acquainted than either cares to admit?
I certainly have that impression.
Look, there he goes!
Straight under the pass.
If your uncle wishes, he may fish here every day.
There are plenty of trout to be caught, and no-one to pinch them.
I thank you sir.
While he's fishing, perhaps your aunt and yourself would like to tour the park.
I will place a phaeton and ponies at your disposal.
Thank you sir.
Or perhaps you would rather go farther with me.
Sir, forgive me, you must think my coming here
the most ill-judged thing in the world.
I would never have ventured near Pemberley
had I known that you were to be here.
I pray, do not tax me in such a way.
I'm more than happy to see you here
and make the acquaintance of your uncle and aunt.
How are the other members of your family?
I left them perfectly well, thank you sir.
The other members of my party will arrive here early tomorrow.
Among them are some who would claim an acquaintance with you:
Mister Bingley and his sisters.
I shall be very happy to see them here.
There's also one other member who more particularly wishes to be known to you.
Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister
to your acquaintance during your stay in Derbyshire?
Really? Thank you...
I'm happy to have made your acquaintance, miss Bennet.
My brother has spoken much of you.
I hope he has not spoken in such terms
as to make you wish to avoid the acquaintance.
Oh no, miss Bennet, he finds you lovely and amiable.
He is always saying so.
And I endorse everything he says.
You know miss Darcy, in the county of Hertfordshire
miss Bennett and her sisters are universally acknowledged
to be without rival for their beauty and amiability.
I can believe that.
You overwhelm us, sir.
I speak only the truth, miss Elizabeth.
Tell me miss Elizabeth, it's been far too long
since I had the pleasure of seeing you.
We've not seen each other since we were all dancing together at Netherfield.
Tell me, are all your sisters presently at Longbourne?
Presently, yes. You know perhaps that my elder sister
was in London foor three months.
In London? How could this be?
How could this have escaped my knowledge?
Of that I have no idea, sir.
I know that Jane corresponds with your sister.
Excuse me, I must ask her how this happened.
Caroline?
Excuse me Charles, I...
Did you know that miss Bennet spent three months in London this winter?
Charles, you astonish me, mister Gardiner was just...
Please forgive me, mister Gardiner.
Now Caroline, I would like an explanation.
I must intervene here.
I'm as much at fault as your sister, if fault there was.
We believed that we were acting in your best interests.
Miss Eliza Bennet, are not the Loneshire militia removed from Meryton?
They must be a great loss to your family.
They are removed, miss Bingley, and we manage very well without them.
I'm astonished to hear you say that.
I always understood mister George Wickham
was a great favourite of yours.
Georgina!
How could she be so cruel as to mention Wickham's name
just as I was trying to forget him.
She could not have spoken intentionally.
She knows nothing of what took place last summer.
Then why should she mentioned him?
Miss Bingley's conversation is the product
of an empty mind, pay no attention to it.
Come, you must attend to your guests.
I'm told that mister Wickham
left many substantial debts in Hertfordshire.
Debts of honour which the colonel of his regiment had to discharge.
Plainly, you have more news from Hertfordshire than I have.
My informant also spoke of numerous intrigues
among the families of the local tradesmen.
Brother, pray, make her stop.
My dear, you will recall that we are expected at Lambton, at one o'clock.
Miss Darcy, you received us with the greatest kindness and consideration
and we are indebted to you for your hospitality,
but we must not detain you longer.
It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.
Ma'am. -Miss Bennet. -Ma'am.
Shall we then expected you to dinner tomorrow?
Miss Bennet.
Provincial nobodies.
Self-sufficiency without consequence and impertinence without wit.
Your brother should protect your reputation more closely miss Darcy.
I'm astonished at his allowing such people
to cross the threshold of Pemberley.
I cannot understand it.
Next we shall find miss Eliza Bennet running around the park like a gypsy.
Just as she did at Netherfield, I shall never forget it.
I thought she was charming.
Mister Darcy, never in my life have I seen
anybody so much altered as is miss Eliza Bennet.
She's grown so brown and coarse.
She's a little tanned, but apart from that
I see no alteration in her.
I must confess for my own part
I never could see any beauty in her.
Her face is too thin.
Her complexion has no brilliance.
Her nose wants character.
Her teeth are tolerable.
But not out of the common way.
As for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine,
I never could perceive anything extraordinary in them.
I particularly recollect your saying one night
after they had been dining at Netherfield,
she a beauty, I would as soon call her mother a wit.
But then she seemed to improve on you.
and at one time I believe you thought her rather pretty.
Yes, but that was only when I first knew her.
For it is many months since I have considered her
as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance.
Kitty what is there in that letter which makes your behaviour,
if is such a thing is possible, sillier than usual?
Nothing papa.
Kitty, show me that letter.
It's nothing mama, it's only from Lydia.
Oh, good, show me her letter.
Kitty, do as you told.
My dear kitty,
You will laugh when you know where I am gone,
and I cannot help laughing myself when I think of your surprise.
I'm going to Gretna Green.
You need not tell our mother and father of my going,
for it will make the surprise the greater
when I write to them and sign my name, Lydia Wickham.
Wickham!
What a good joke it will be.
I can hardly write for laughing.
I wish you would tell Sally to mend a great slit in my worked muslin.
Goodbye. I hope you will drink to our good journey.
Your affectionate sister Lydia.
Well, at least I shall have one daughter married.
And what makes you think that he means to marry her?
What?
She has no fortune to tempt him.
My father is right I'm afraid mama,
Lizzie and I know far more of mister Wickham than we did last season.
It's all your fault mister Bennet.
If you'd allowed us all to go to Brighton we could have protected her.
Ah! My poor child! Ah!
Well my dear I have been unwise.
I thought that without a portion,
Lydia would be of less importance in Brighton
than she has been here as a common flirt.
She might indeed have learned of her own insignificance.
Papa, what is to be done?
Well initially I shall ride to Gretna Green myself and find their track.
In the meantime I shall send for Elizabeth,
because with the exception of myself,
she is the only sane member of this household.
Oh Lydia, foolish foolish Lydia!
Miss Elizabeth!
What is the matter? Are you unwell?
No, I thank you, there is nothing the matter with me,
I'm quite well, I'm only distressed at some dreadful news
I have just received from Longbourne.
My younger sister was left of all her friends and has eloped
and has thrown herself into the power of mister Wickham.
You know him too well to doubt the rest.
She has no money, no connections,
nothing that could tempt him to marry her.
I'm grieved indeed. Grieved. Shocked.
But is it certain, absolutely certain?
Oh yes, they left Brighton together on Sunday night
and were traced almost to London, but not beyond.
But what has been done, what attempt to recover her?
My father is gone to London and Jane has written to me
to beg my uncle's immediate assistance.
We should be off, I hope, in half an hour.
But nothing can be done, I know very well nothing can be done.
Would I have that anything could be either said or done
on my part to offer consolation to such distress.
But be certain of one point. No-one shall hear of this from my lips.
Please, be so kind as to apologise to your sister for us.
Say that urgent business has cooped us home again.
Be sure that whatever the outcome of this unhappy affair,
my thoughts go with you on the road to Longbourne.
Never have I thought that I could love him.
Never have I thought that I could ever love him.
And now, all love must be in vain.
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