Pride and Prejudice (1940) Script



Either the shell-pink gossamer muslin or the figured damask would be most becoming to your daughter, Mrs. Bennet.

Eh, 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 up, 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.


Um, fashion decrees muslin this season, madam.

That should be good enough, shouldn't it?

JANE: Yes.

Then, uh, 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. Mm-hm.

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.

H-have you heard any of our neighbors say if they're expecting visitors?

No, Mama.

Who do you suppose would be entertaining people of fashion like these?

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

Eh, slyly, of course.

Oh, the hostler will tell us.

La, 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?

They're 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, dear. That's the pleasantest part of it.

She's his sister.

She's his sister, Lizzy.

Who's the other gentleman, Aunt Philips?

Oh, I don't know. Some friend, I suppose.

Oh, but let me tell you about Mr. Bingley.

He's very rich. He has 5000 pounds a year.

Five thousand pounds and unmarried.

That's the most heartening piece of 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. PHILIPS: Ah, 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, ah, 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, of course.

Yes, indeed. Goodbye, sister.

You mustn't leave, Lady Lucas, till Mr. Beck has shown you that exquisite piece of flower damask. Ha-ha!

Goodbye. Bye.

JANE: Goodbye, Lady Lucas. Goodbye.

ELIZABETH: Come over to Longbourn soon.


Heaven only knows where your sisters are, and 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.

Oh, we'll choose the material some other time, Mr. Beck.

Come, Charlotte.

Hurry, my dear.

Where are those girls?

Whenever I want them, I never can find them.

There's Mary, Mama.

Ye-- Oh, Mary.


Isn't that just like the girl.

Eh, eh, Mary.

Mar-- Eh.


[WHISPERS] Come out.


Look, Mama. I have 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.

Y-- 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.

Oh, Mama, there they are.



There. Look.

Kitty, there's Mama.

MRS. BENNET: Kitty, Lydia.

Eh, eh-- Come here.

Those two are getting sillier and sillier 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, Jennings. There's no time to lose.

Would you take this, please? Thank you.

Mama, can't we stay here?



Look, Mama, Lady Lucas' carriage.

Pass them, Higgins. Pass them.

Overtake them, Jennings! Overtake them.

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

Ah, that'll teach her a lesson. Ha-ha!

Keep on going, Jennings.

I must tell your papa about this at once.

No time to lose.

Uh, 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.

Well, don't you want to hear who's taken it?

Well, 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, a 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. Hm-hm!

You should've seen her galloping her horses to beat me from the village just now.

Did she win?

Ha! Indeed she did not.

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

Well, I'll tell you what I'll do, my dear.

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?

[VOICE BREAKING] 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 that cousin of yours, that-- 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. Heh-heh!

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

Look at them. [PIANO STOPS]

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.


Ha-ha-ha! I'm glad you didn't drown me, Papa.

Much too nice just being alive, even if I never had 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.

Mama, why aren't we to meet Mr. Bingley?

Don't speak about Mr. Bingley.

I'm sick of him.

Eh? 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.


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.


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

Well, 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 Mr. Bennet gave them 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 Elizabeth.

Ah, 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.

Ah, 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? Uh--

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.

Uh, 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, Lizzy, do try to make a good impression.

You can be so appealing when you want to be.

Oh, uh, 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 young 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?

WILLIAM: 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.

Oh, uh, 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.


Hey. My, my. Stop scratching yourself.

Yes, Mama.

Well, is Miss Bingley engaged to Mr. Darcy?

If she is, she ought to break it.


No man can be in love and look so bored.

Did you ever see such people, Mr. Darcy?

Really, 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.

Miss Bennet, you've done a very extraordinary thing.

What? You have talked to me about all your friends in Meryton without saying one malicious word.

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

That never prevented anyone from talking maliciously.



Your health. Your health.

Uh-uh, no heel-tapping, 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.


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 shall 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?


BINGLEY: Mr. Darcy.

Come, I hate to see you stalking about by yourself in a stupid manner.

Why don't you dance? With whom?

Your sister's engaged and there isn't another woman in the room it wouldn't be a punishment for me to stand up with.

BINGLEY: But the place is full of pretty girls.

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

BINGLEY: Yes, isn't she lovely?

But there's that sister of hers, Miss Elizabeth.

They say she has a lively wit.

Uhh, provincial young lady with a lively wit.

Heaven preserve us. And there's that mother of hers.

BINGLEY: It's not the mother you have to dance with.

It's the daughter. She's charming.

DARCY: Yes, she looks tolerable enough.

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

What a charming man.

Of all the arrogant, detestable snobs.

Oh, but, 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 the middle classes at play."

And 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 do me the kindness to 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, sir, 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 with you, I hope that you will do me the honor?

I am afraid that the honor of standing up with you, Mr. Darcy, 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.

After what Darcy has done to me, I--

I wouldn't be a fair judge.

Oh, 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.

MRS. BENNET: Things are working out exactly as I hoped the first minute I set eyes on Mr. Bingley.

What's this about Mr. Bingley?

I'm dining with him and his sister, Papa.

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

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

They're so frightfully rich.

No, dear, 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 be sure 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, dear, although I say it, I shouldn't: you have the loveliest profile in all Herefordshire.



Thank you.

Oh, 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, Mama.

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

Oh, and I had such hopes of those shrubberies.

Get out, Jane. Get out, dear, 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 after dinner.

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 too much upset.

Oh, no. Mother will be delight--

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


Now, tea. Thoroughly sweet.

This way.

Now, open your mouth.

Say "ah."


Once more. "Ah." Ah.


The epidermis seems to have lost its sudorific activity.

I detect distinct symptoms of pyrexia.

Oh, is that bad, Dr. McIntosh?

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


McINTOSH: 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.

MISS BINGLEY: 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.

Uh, this way, Miss Elizabeth.

Please 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.

Ah, but Dr. McIntosh says there's some fever.

It doesn't amount to anything. Nothing to get agitated about.

I thought I heard your voice, Miss Elizabeth.

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.

You didn't come alone, I hope. All alone.

But how shocking.

Don't you think so, Mr. Darcy?

Is it shocking for a young 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.


MARY: ♪ Thou green-crested Lapwing... ♪ Papa, listen to Mary.

I can't help listening, my dear.

Will you be quiet!

♪ I charge you Disturb not... ♪ Mama, the sunshine.

May I go to the village?

Mm. May I go, too, Mama?


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?

Well, we're hoping Elizabeth can manage to 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. [GIGGLES]

And if a young man should happen to be in the house--

A young man who likes singing, of course, and can discuss philosophy. --Mary could go.

Then, if a dashing young 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, thank you. 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.

Hm. 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, and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.

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

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

You see, my mother's expecting a visit from our cousin Collins, whom none of us has ever 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 the doctor advises it, cousin or no cousin.

There are others in the library if you care for none of these.

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 really 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.

It's amazing to me how young ladies can have the patience to be so accomplished as they all are.

All young ladies are not accomplished, Charles.

BINGLEY: 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.


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 esteemed 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.

As soon as your sister has fully recovered, I'll give a ball.

Oh, that's a delightful idea.

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

And let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table.

Will you allow me to defer your raptures until I write again?

I really 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, let me persuade you to 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?

Uh, 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. [CHUCKLES]

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 the greatest advantage while walking.

In the first case, I should be completely 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, Miss Elizabeth, when you deliberately inflict it by leaving us so soon?

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, uh, that will do.

Uh, 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.


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?


I heard only too clearly.

MRS. BENNET: 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 upstairs and tell Mr. Collins we're waiting dinner for him.

MATTHEWS: Very well, madam.

Insufferable creature.

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

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 we have the moment your poor dear father is dead.


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

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

Well, 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.

Ahem. Mrs. Bennet, my dear.

Mr. Collins.

How do you do, Mr. Collins?

I trust your journey was not too fatiguing.

Oh, madam, the fatigues of the journey have been melted away by the warmth of your gracious hospitality.

Ahem. My daughters, Mr. Collins. This is Jane.

This is indeed a privilege.

MR. BENNET: Kitty.

Another privilege.

MR. BENNET: Lydia, our youngest.


And Elizabeth.

I am quite overpowered.

Madam, I have 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 ugly in this family.

Uh, 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.

Ahem. 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.

COLLINS: Such is a vulgar opinion, sir.

But 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.


COLLINS: And now let me give you 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, uh, choice.


I think perhaps Miss Jane.

I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Collins, but Jane is practically engaged.

Uh, we are expecting a proposal any moment now.

Well, then, Miss Elizabeth.

That is, if there's no prior claim.

MRS. BENNET: Oh, none.

None that we know of.

MATTHEWS: 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.



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.


COLLINS: Miss Elizabeth.


Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth.

COLLINS: Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Elizabeth.

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

Do you--? Do you happen to know Miss Elizabeth Bennet?

I do, sir.

Has she--? Has she passed this way, may I ask?

DARCY: No, sir, she has not passed this spot.

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, Saint 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?

Oh-ho. 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.

Hm. What a bad shot.

Oh, 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, uh, 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.



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, Miss Bennet, 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.


You promised to give me a lesson with the darts.

I give no more instructions to young ladies.

Hereafter, 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 another 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 circumstances if he were asked?


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.

Oh. 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.

MARY: ♪ Flow gently, sweet Afton Among thy green braes ♪

♪ Flow gently, I'll sing thee A song in thy praise ♪

♪ My Mary's asleep By thy murmuring stream ♪

♪ Flow gently, sweet Afton ♪

♪ Disturb not her dream ♪

♪ Thou stock dove whose echo Resounds from the hill ♪

♪ Ye wild whistling blackbirds ♪

♪ In yon thorny dell ♪

[OUT OF TUNE] ♪ Thou... ♪

♪ Green-crested lapwing ♪

♪ Thy screaming forbear ♪

♪ I charge you, disturb not ♪

♪ My slumbering fair ♪


Charming, Miss Mary. Charming.

Won't you favor us with another selection?

MARY: Well, if you really insist.

Papa, you must make her stop.

All right, dear. Shh, shh.



Very good, Mary, dear. Very good.

But, Papa, this is another song.

Eh? Oh.

Oh, never mind, my dear.

You've delighted us quite long enough.

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

Ah, 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 with a 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 that I might possess a friend who would defend me as ably as Mr. Wickham was defended today.

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 are so prejudiced.

Shall we not call quits and start again?


Oh, Lizzy, Mr. Bingley is going to arrange a Highland Reel for us. 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?

And of course, dear 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 know, you're quite tipsy.

I am not.


Hold it! Hold up.

Stupid step.

[LAUGHING] Hello, Lizzy. Hello, Mr. Darcy.

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

I am not.


MAN: 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.

Ah, Miss Elizabeth, do you recall? The first dance?

Ah, sir, will you please accept the humble apology of one who's only just learned you are the nephew of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh?


You will be happy to learn that when I left her two weeks ago, your gracious aunt was enjoying the best of health.

What graciousness. What condescension.

What snobbery.

Miss Eliza, please remember that Mr. Darcy is the nephew of Lady Catherine 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.


MRS. BENNET: Would you stop moving about?



Oh, little fellow, please don't cry.



Oh, there's Lizzy.

KITTY: 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 have put it round Mr. Collins when he grows too much of a bore.

Lizzy, how could you speak like that about your charming cousin?

Oh, but he's--

There you are, Mrs. Bennet.

Oh! 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 new puppies.

I think I'll join them.

One moment please, Miss Elizabeth.

Uh, madam, may I have the permission to solicit a private interview with your daughter, Elizabeth?


Well, I, uh, really--

Uh, yes, indeed.

Lizzy will be only too happy.

Come, Kitty, I want you upstairs.

Why do you keep winking, Mama?


[LAUGHING] 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.

Oh, wait.

You can 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 my reasons for marrying.

First, I regard it as the duty of every gentleman in easy circumstances to marry.

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

And thirdly, I think it only right that since I am to inherit your father's estate, I should try and 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, my dear Miss Elizabeth, 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 therefore by no means discouraged by what you have said. Upon my word, sir, you are very hard to discourage.

Ah, my dear-- Mr. Collins, you have made your offer. I have refused it.

You can therefore take possession of this estate without the least compunction or self-reproach whenever it falls to you.

So let's regard the incident as closed.

But, my dear Miss Elizabeth, you ought to take into consideration that in spite of your loveliness and amiable qualifications, you are practically penniless. And it is by no means certain another offer may ever be made you.

Well, by all--

So I must therefore attribute your refusal of me to your wish of increasing my love by suspense.

Which is, I am 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.

Ah, thank you. You make me feel certain that when my proposal is sanctioned by the authority of your parents, you will plainly say yes.


Oh, Papa.


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 that my cousin's refusal naturally springs from her bashful modesty.


With Lizzy, that does not mean bashful modesty.

But never mind, Mr. Collins.

She's a very foolish, headstrong girl and does not know her own interest.

Foolish? Headstrong? Dear me.

Those failings will not make her a very desirable wife.

Oh, but you quite misunderstand, Mr. Collins.

Lizzy is only headstrong in matters such as these.

Uh-- 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 immediately, or he'll change his and not have her.

In which event, my dear, 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, Mrs. Bennet?

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 own daughter's letters?

I-- 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've thrown away Mr. Collins, and now here's Jane losing Mr. Bingley.

Well, what are you talking about, Mama?

Read that.

No, no, it belongs to Jane.

I-- 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.


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

Oh, do be quiet, Lydia.

MRS. BENNET: 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 much too upset to talk to anyone.

Lizzy will give you tea.

Oh, 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.


Good news, indeed.


Mr. Darcy has left Netherfield.

So I hear.

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

I should like very much to know.

His conscience drove him away, Miss Elizabeth.

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--

I am deeply interested.

How kind and sympathetic you are.

Would it surprise you to learn that I was once intended for the church, Miss Elizabeth?

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 entered 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 going to be my partner, Mr. Wickham.

What an honor. I've been kidnapped.

Won't you join us? Come on.

No thanks, Mr. Denny. Later perhaps.

Come along. Gee up.


Why, Jane.


If you've let that Caroline Bingley make you cry, I'll-- 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 and 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?


Now come along down 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 to Mr. Wickham.

MRS. BENNET: It's absurd, Sir William.

I shall never believe it. Never.

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

That may have been his purpose in coming here, Mrs. Bennet, uh-- Oh, 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.


How delightful, Sir William.

Thank you, Miss Jane.

But Charlotte...

Charlotte's going to marry Mr. Collins?

On Tuesday, week, to be precise.

Uh, Lady, uh, Catherine de Bourgh doesn't believe in long engagements, and--

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

Oh, Lydia, be quiet.

MRS. BENNET: The child is right, Lizzy.

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

I am quite positive, Mrs. Bennet. Um--

Mrs. Bennet.

Oh, there you are.

Come in and share in the rejoicing.

Oh, dear 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.


Dear Charlotte, I--

Come with me.

MRS. BENNET: Well, Lady Lucas, little did I think that 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 thoroughly and see what they're going to inherit.

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

[VOICE BREAKING] 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, Charlotte. 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.

Well, while you're unpacking, 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.


MAN: Mr. Collins!

Mr. Collins!

Oh, Lizzy, do look.

Mr. Collins.

Well, what?

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

Oh, is that all?

I expected at least 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.

CATHERINE: Yes, yes, Mr. Collins. Proceed.

Your ladyship.

How do you do, Mrs. Collins? Miss de Bourgh.

How do you do?

Now, let me see, Lady Catherine.

Uh, a flannel petticoat for Mrs. Hodge, a quarter of pound of tea for old Martha Spratt, and a hundredweight of coals for the Burtons.

But nothing for the Smees, do you understand?

Nothing whatever.

You must learn, Mrs. Collins, to draw a firm line between the deserving poor and the undeserving.

What wise benevolence.

Are the chickens still laying satisfactorily?

They've fallen off a little 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, my love, you're not getting cold, I hope.

A little, Mama. Ah...

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

Goodbye, Mrs. Collins. Goodbye.

Uh, permit me to say how I appreciate--

Drive on, Smith.

--your ladyship's affability and kindness.

What extraordinary condescension.

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

COLLINS: 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.

Well, Mrs. Collins, you will be surprised to find someone you know dining with us this evening.


CATHERINE: 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.

A-- Oh, yes, and Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins.

How do you do?

I thought you were in London, Mr. Darcy.

Oh, yes. But, uh, 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 that day--

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.

Oh, it's doubtless the lack of exercise.

You'll feel happier when the hunting season begins.


Now I know what took you into Herefordshire this summer.

You also know what drove him out again.

He liked the landscape well enough, 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.

CATHERINE: Miss Bennet.

Come here.

Mrs. Collins, go and talk to your husband.

I wish to speak to Miss Bennet.

Yes, Lady Catherine.

Be seated.

Have you any accomplishments, Miss Bennet?


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

CATHERINE: Do you sing and play?

ELIZABETH: 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.

Ah, yes.

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


CATHERINE: 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, Aunt Catherine.

CATHERINE: Don't talk nonsense, Darcy.

Are any of your younger sisters out in society?

All of them.


How very odd.

Really, Lady Catherine, I think it would be very hard on younger sisters to be kept 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 the interrogation during dinner?

There are so many things I should like to find out.

It seems to be a family failing, sir.

CATHERINE: 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.



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.

DARCY: 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-I mean, uh, exactly.

I-- I mean, uh, excuse me.

Well, don't stop, Miss Elizabeth, that was charming.

Isn't that the right 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-- 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.

[CHUCKLES] I protest, Aunt Catherine.

Why talk of practicing when Miss Bennet should be playing?

Come, Miss Bennet.

I insist on your favoring us again.

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

My aunt means quite kindly, Miss Elizabeth.

Her manner is sometimes a little 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.

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

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

His high-and-mightiness, Mr. Darcy.

But I thought it was Caroline Bingley.

She was only half the reason.

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

Colonel Fitzwilliam?

Of course 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 what an infinite amount of trouble he'd gone to to save his friend Bingley from an impossible marriage.


You can tell your 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've reminded 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?

But do you expect me to be glad that your family is inferior to mine?


I suppose I should congratulate you on winning the battle between your unwilling affection and my unworthiness.

But, you see, I have never desired your good opinion.

And if you were not so lacking in perception, you might have spared yourself my refusal.

Is--? 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.

Why, if the manner of my expression--

The manner of your proposal is only one reason for my incivility, if I have been uncivil.

Even had my feelings been favorable--

Which they never could have been.

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?

[TEARFULLY] 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.

And even without this, your character was clearly revealed in your treatment of Mr. Wickham.

You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concern.

Now, 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 in this case would have been more agreeable.

But 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.

You-- Your selfish disregard of other people's feelings made me dislike you from the first.

I-I-- I hadn't known you a week before I decided you were the last man in the world 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.

JANE: Lizzy.

Oh, Jane.

Lizzy. I thought you were in London.

No, they sent for me this morning.

Lizzy, it's so awful.

Oh, 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.

[TEARFULLY] 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.


Oh, Lizzy.


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

Such-- Such spasms. Such palpitations.

Such thunderings.

Yes, Mama, I know, I know.

What, no broth? Where are the bird feathers?

[WHISPERS] 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.

[SOBBING] Yes, and you know what'll 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.


Shh. Mama.

Poor Mrs. Bennet.

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

Oh. COLLINS: Ah, Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet.

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

No lapse of time, Mrs. Philips.

The death of your daughter would have been a blessing compared to this.

Mr. Collins. And what is it, my dear?

Poor Mrs. Bennet, you're distressing her.

Distressing her? I'm bringing her consolation.

[GROANS] May I add, madam, that this false step of one of your daughters, uh, must prove very injurious unto the fortunes of all the others.

Oh, he's right. He's right.

They'll never get married now.

[TEARFULLY] 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.

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

Perhaps it would be better if I saw him, Miss Eliza.

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 have no intention of reopening a painful subject.

After what you said to me 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.


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.



This is perhaps the last time I shall see you.

God bless you, Elizabeth.


Mr. Darcy. Oh, Lizzy.


I thought it was-- I--

Has he gone?


He's just riding away.

Riding away.

Will he ever ride back?

That chapter is definitely closed.


What are you talking about?

Oh, Jane.

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

Something so extraordinary, so unbelievable.


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?

Oh, what a fool I've been. What a despicable fool.

Oh, Lizzy, dearest, we all make mistakes.

You mustn't feel-- Oh, and how selfish I'm being.

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

Poor Jane, my darling.

Why, 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 was always expecting 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.

[GIGGLING] 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, and lights are shining.

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

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

[MR. DARCY CHUCKLES] 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 that they've given up the search?

Mm. So it seems.


"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?


Just think how you would roar 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, Charles. 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. [MOANS]

You'll feel so much better when we've moved 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.

Now, 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... Well, perhaps if I make a great effort.

Ah, there, Mama.



Papa, what was that you were saying about those nice cheap lodgings you heard of by the sea?

At Margate, my dear? Yes.


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.

Besides, 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-- [CLAMORING]

MARY: Why do you have to tell Mama?

Tell Mama. Tell them all.



My poor nerves.

Stop squabbling, you two, for goodness' sake.

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

Listen to it.

It's not nearly 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 poor 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 all the books in his library?

Why should Mama have to leave her collection of china behind?

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.


[HUSHED] Mr. Collins.

I took the liberty of coming across the garden.

May I be permitted?

Come in, Mr. Collins. Come in.

Thank you. Thank you.

Oh, ladies.

Miss Eliza. I, uh--

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 a great deal in the last few weeks, don't you think so, Miss Eliza?

Does he? Perhaps the wish is father to the thought, Mr. Collins.

MRS. BENNET: I suppose you have heard that we are leaving Longbourn, Mr. Collins.

COLLINS: A wise decision, madam.

Find some remote and secluded spot where no one has ever heard of your unhappy daughter.

Oh, my poor little Lydia.

What can have happened to her?

What is it, Papa? Uh--

It's from your uncle Gardiner.

He's found Lydia.

He's found her? Yes.

"And Wickham asked for a thousand pounds at your death

"and a hundred 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 that Wickham recently came into a very considerable sum of money."

Oh, I see. Well... that explains it.

No, it doesn't explain anything, my child.

We know that Wickham's in debt.

We know he's extravagant. We know he's a gambler.

And yet suddenly, he has so much money that he'll take a girl like Lydia for 2 pounds a week.

Ah, 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.


[GASPS] 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.


Oh, my sweetest child. Rich! [LYDIA LAUGHING]



May I ask how you have suddenly become so rich, Mr. Wickham?

Well, it was quite a surprise.

One of my, uh-- 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 it's 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. Heh.

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. [CHUCKLES]

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.

Oh, 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, uh, sit down?







Stupid child.

Things are in such confusion today.


So I see.



I wish to speak to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

[CHUCKLES] Oh, um...


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.

Uh, come, children.

I hope we shall all have the pleasure of seeing you later, Lady Catherine.

Possibly, Mrs. Bennet, possibly.

Ah-- Yes.

Mr. Collins.

Be seated, Miss Bennet.

[SQUAWKING] Oh! 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 possibly 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 have 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, uh, 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.

Huh! 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 this house until you have given me the assurance for which 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, Da-- 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, would you?

No, I don't think I would. She's right for you, Darcy.

You were a spoiled child.

But we don't want to go on spoiling you.

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, Aunt Catherine?

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 myself the pleasure-- ELIZABETH: Jane.

Jane. Mama, I can't find Jane anywhere. I--


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 see if--?

Oh, why, yes. Let's do that. Fine.

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 send one for the good reason that Charles Bingley had every intention of bringing it himself. Himself?

Yes. He came back to Netherfield last night.

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?


She sent her brother back by dwelling on all the reasons why he should stay away. [CHUCKLES]

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 Lady Catherine--?

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.

Oh, I'm afraid I gave her a good change this afternoon.

[CHUCKLES] She went away delighted.

You evidently 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.

And 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-- 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?


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.

Oh, 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.

Oh, I wonder if there's any dish he's particularly fond of?

I'll-- I'll go to the kitchen at once.


MARY: ♪ Flow gently, sweet Afton Among thy green braes ♪

♪ Flow gently, I'll sing thee A song in thy praise ♪

♪ The green-crested... ♪ [PLAYING]

Mr. Bennet. Mr. Bennet.

Look. ♪ Thy screaming forebear ♪

♪ I charge you Disturb not ♪

♪ My slumbering fair ♪ 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-- And Sir William knows all about Mr. Witherington.

You must go at once, Mr. Bennet.

This very afternoon.

Oh. Think of it. Three of them married.

And the other two just tottering on the brink.