Sense and Sensibility (1995) Script

Your son has arrived from London, sir.

Father.

John.

You will find out soon enough from my will... that the estate of Norland was left to me... in such a way as prevents me from dividing it between my two families.

Calm yourself, Father. This cannot be good for you.

Norland in its entirety is, therefore... yours by law... and I am happy for you and Fanny.

But your stepmother... my wife and daughters... are left only £500 a year... barely enough to live on.

Nothing for the girls' dowries.

You must help them.

Of course.

You must promise to do this.

I promise, Father.

I promise.

Help them? What do you mean, 'Help them"?

Dearest, I mean to give them £3,000.

The interest will provide them with a little extra income.

Such a gift will certainly discharge my promise to my father.

Without question. More than amply.

One had rather on such occasions do too much than too little.

Of course, he did not stipulate a particular sum.

£1,500 then. What do you say to 1,500?

What brother on earth would do half so much for his real sisters?

Let alone half-blood? They can hardly expect more.

There's no knowing what they expect. The question is, what can you afford?

A hundred pounds a year to their mother.

Is that more advisable? It is better than parting with 1,500 all at once.

But if she should live longer than 15 years, we'd be completely taken in.

People always live forever when there is an annuity to be paid them.

Twenty pounds now and then will amply discharge my promise.

Indeed.

Although, I am convinced that your father... had no idea of your giving them money.

They will have 500 a year as it is.

What on earth could four women want for more than that?

Their housekeeping will be nothing: no carriage, no horses, hardly any servants, and they'll keep no company.

Only conceive how comfortable they will be.

They will be much more able to give you something.


Marianne, could you play something else?

Mama has been weeping since breakfast.

I meant something less mournful, dearest.

Reduced to the condition of visitor in my home.

It is not to be borne, Elinor.

We have nowhere to go.

John and Fanny will be descending from London any moment.

Do you expect me to welcome them?

Vultures.

I will start making inquiries for a new house at once.

Until then, we must try to bear their coming.

Margaret, are you there? Please come down.

John and Fanny will be here soon.

Why are they coming to live at Norland? They already have a house in London.

Because houses go from father to son, dearest, not from father to daughter.

It is the law.

Come inside. We could play with your atlas.

It's not my atlas anymore. It's their atlas.

Do sit down.

As you know, we are looking for a new home.

When we leave, we shall be able to retain only Thomas and Betsy.

We're very sorry to have to leave you all... but we are certain that you will find the new Mrs. Dashwood... a fair and generous mistress.

My only real concern is how long it will take them to move out.


How is Mrs. Ferrars?

My mother is always in excellent health.

My brother Robert is with her this season... and quite the most popular bachelor in London.

He has his own barouche.

You have two brothers, have you not?

Indeed, yes. Edward is the elder, and Mama quite depends upon him.

He's travelling from Plymouth shortly and will break his journey here.

If that is agreeable to you, of course.

My dear John... this is your home now.

Fanny wishes to know where the key to the silver cabinet is.

Betsy has it. What does Fanny want with the silver?

One can only presume she wants to count it.

What are you doing? Presents for the servants.

Have you seen Margaret, by the way?

I'm worried about her. She's taken to hiding in odd places.

Fortunate girl. At least she can escape Fanny, which is more than we're able.

You do your best. You've not said a word to her.

I have.

I've said "yes" and "no."

Good morning, Fanny.

Good morning, Miss Marianne.

How did you find the silver? Was it all genuine?

Pray, when may we expect the pleasure of your brother's company?

Edward is due tomorrow.

My dear Mrs. Dashwood, in view of the fact that he will not be with us long... would Miss Margaret be prepared to give up her room for him?

The view is quite incomparable from her windows.

I should so much like Edward to see Norland at its best.


Mrs. Dashwood, Miss Dashwood, Miss Marianne... my brother Edward Ferrars.

Do sit down.

But where is Miss Margaret?

I declare, I'm beginning to doubt her existence. She must run wild.

Pray forgive us, Mr. Ferrars. My youngest is not to be found.

She's a little shy of strangers at present.

Well, naturally.

I'm shy of strangers myself, and I have nothing like her excuse.

How do you like your view?

Very much.

Your stables are very handsome and beautifully kept.

Stables? Edward, your windows overlook the lake.

An oversight, Fanny, had led me to one of the family rooms... but I've rectified the situation and am happily installed in the guest quarters.

Tea.

They're all exceedingly spoiled, I find.

Miss Margaret spends all her time up trees and under furniture.

I've barely had a civil word from Marianne.

My dear Fanny, they've just lost their father.

Their lives will never be the same again.

That is no excuse.

Library.

These are mostly foreign.

Indeed? Magnificent.

I've never liked the smell of books.

Well...

No, it is the dust perhaps.

I hear you have plans for the walnut grove.

Oh, yes. I shall have it knocked down to make way for a Grecian temple.

Mm. That does sound extremely interesting. Would you show me the site?

Too expensive.

We do not need four bedrooms. We can share.

This one, then.

We have only £500 a year.

I will send out more inquiries today.

Pardon my intrusion... but I think I may have found what you're looking for.

Won't you come out, dearest?

We haven't seen you all day.

So later, of course, we shall have to enlarge it.

Mattocks will help you adjust to our hours.

Oh, Miss Dashwood.

Forgive me. Do you, by any chance, have a reliable atlas?

I believe so. Excellent.

I wish to check the position of the Nile.

My sister tells me it is in South America.

She's quite wrong.

I believe it is in Belgium.

Belgium?

Surely not. I think you must be thinking of the Volga.

The Volga? Of course. The Volga... which, as you know, starts in...

Vladivostok and in... Wimbledon.

Precisely. Where the coffee beans come from.

The source of the Nile is in Abyssinia.

Is it?

How interesting. How do you do?

Delighted to make your acquaintance.

It adjoins this property. Quite so.

It cannot be but a most desirable addition.

I will ride there tomorrow and speak to... Who is it?

Gibson.

He ought to be pleased enough to sell.

He will certainly ask for more than it is worth. Do not be too eager.

No. You're quite right.

We have no desire to lose it to somebody else.

I'll go tomorrow as planned.

Merely inquire.

After all, there'll be few enough offers.

The land thereabout is marshy. Lunge.

It's possible we may get some assistance from Mama.

Did I hurt you?


Thank you. Forgive me.

That was my father's favourite.

Thank you so much for your help with Margaret.

She's quite changed since you came.

Not at all. I enjoy her company.

Has she shown you the tree house? Not yet.

Would...

Would you do me the honour?

It is very fine out.

With pleasure.

Margaret has always wanted to travel.

I know. She's heading an expedition to China shortly.

I am to go as her servant, but only on the understanding... that I will be very badly treated.

What will your duties be?

Sword fighting, obviously, administering rum and swabbing.

Which of those duties will take precedence for you?

Swabbing, I would imagine.

All I want... All I have ever wanted... is the quiet of a private life... but my mother is determined to see me distinguished.

As? Anything.

A great orator, a leading politician. A barrister would serve... as long as I drove a barouche and dined in the first circles.

What do you wish for?

I've always preferred the Church... but that is not smart enough for Mother.

She prefers the army, but that is a great deal too smart for me.

Would you stay in London? I hate London.

No peace. Country living is my ideal... a small parish where I might do some good... keep chickens, give very short sermons.

You talk of feeling idle and useless.

Imagine how that is compounded when one has no hope... and no choice of any occupation whatsoever.

Our circumstances are, therefore, precisely the same.

Except that you will inherit your fortune.

We cannot even earn ours.

Perhaps Margaret is right. Right?

Piracy is our only option.

What is swabbing exactly?

"No voice divine the storm allayed, no light propitious shone.

When snatched from all effectual aid, we perished... perished, each alone.

But I beneath a rougher sea and whelmed in deeper gulfs than he."

No, Edward, listen.

"No voice divine the storm allayed, no light propitious shone.

When snatched from all effectual aid, we perished, each alone."

Can you not feel his despair?

Try again.

"No voice divine the storm allayed... no light propitious shone.

When snatched from all effectual aid... we perished, each alone."

Look. This has just arrived.

"I should be pleased to offer you a home at Barton Cottage... as soon as you have need."

It's from my cousin, Sir John Middleton.

Even Elinor must approve the rent.

Has Elinor not yet seen this?

I will fetch her. Wait. No.

Let us delay.

Why?

I think... I believe... that Edward and Elinor have formed an attachment.

It would be cruel to take her away so soon. Devonshire is so far.

Why so grave? You disapprove her choice?

By no means.

Edward is very amiable.

Amiable? But?

But there is something wanting.

He's too sedate. His reading last night.

Elinor has not your feelings. His reserve suits her.

Can he love her?

Can the soul really be satisfied with such polite affections?

To love is to burn, to be on fire...

Like Juliet or Guinevere or Eloise.

They met rather pathetic ends.

Pathetic? To die for love? How can you say so? What could be more glorious?

That may be taking your romantic sensibilities a little far.

"Is love a fancy or a feeling?

No. It is immortal as immaculate truth.

It is not a blossom shed as soon as youth drops from the stem of life... for it will grow in barren regions where no waters flow... nor ray of promise cheats the pensive gloom."

What a pity Edward has no passion for reading.

You asked him to read, and then you made him nervous.

Me? Yes.

Since your behaviour to him is perfectly cordial...

I must assume that you like him in spite of his deficiencies.

I think him... everything that is amiable and worthy.

Praise indeed.

But he shall have my unswerving devotion when you tell me he is to be my brother.

How shall I do without you?

Do without me? I'm sure you will be very happy.

You must not live too far away.

There is no question of... That is, there is...

There is no understanding.

Do you love him?

I do not attempt to deny that I think very highly of him... that I... greatly esteem him.

I like him. "Esteem him"? "Like him"?

Use those words again, and I shall leave this instant.

Very well. Forgive me.

Believe my feelings to be stronger than I have declared... but further than that you must not believe.

Is love a fancy or a feeling?

Or a Ferrars?

Go to bed.

"I do not attempt to deny... that I think very highly of him... that I greatly esteem him...

that I like him."


We're so happy that you chose to invite Edward to Norland.

He's a dear boy. We're all very fond of him.

We have great hopes for him.

Our mother expects much with regard to his profession.

Naturally. And in marriage.

She's determined both he and Robert will marry well.

Of course... but I hope she desires them to marry for love.

Love is all very well... but we cannot always rely on the heart... to lead us in the most suitable direction.

You see, my dear Mrs. Dashwood...

Edward is entirely the kind of compassionate person... upon whom penniless women can prey.

And having entered into any understanding... he would never go back on his word.

He's simply incapable of doing so.

But it would lead to his ruin.

I worry for him so.

My mother has made it plain that she'll withdraw Edward's financial support... should he choose to plant his affections in less exalted ground than he deserves.

I understand you perfectly.

To Devonshire?

My cousin, Sir John Middleton, has offered us a house on his estate.

Sir John Middleton?

What is his situation? He must be a man of some property.

He's a widower. He lives with his mother-in-law at Barton Park.

It is Barton Cottage he offers.

A cottage. How charming. A little cottage is always very snug.

But you will not leave before the summer?

We can no longer trespass upon your sister's goodwill. We must leave soon.

You will come and stay with us, Edward?

I should like that very much.

Edward has long been expected in town by our mother.

Come as soon as you can.

Remember, you're always welcome.


Cannot you take him with you?

We cannot possibly afford him.

Perhaps he could make himself useful in the kitchen.

Forgive me.

Miss Dashwood...

Elinor...

I must speak to you.

There is something of great importance that I need to... tell you... about my education.

Your education?

Yes.

It was conducted... oddly enough, in Plymouth.

Indeed? Yes. Do you know it?

Plymouth? No.

Well...

I was four years there... in a school run by Mr. Pratt.

Precisely. Yes. Pratt.

And... while I was there...

That is to say, he had a... has a...

I've looked all over for you. You're needed in London this instant.

I'm leaving this afternoon. That will not do. Mama is adamant.

You should leave at once.

Excuse me.


Edward promised he'd bring the atlas. Did he?

I'll wager he will do so in less than a fortnight.

Dear Edward.


Hello there, now. Welcome. Welcome.

You poor creatures.

There. Do you see? Just as I told you.

Sir John. Oh, how very kind.

Dear ladies.

Upon my word. Here ye are.

Oh, Sir John, your extraordinary kindness...

No, none of that. Please. None of that.

Here is my dear mama-in-law, Mrs. Jennings.

Now get down, you dogs. This must be Miss Dashwood.

Was your journey tolerable? You poor souls.

Why did you not come up to the park first?

We saw you pass. I could not wait for you to come.

I made John call the carriage. Get down, dogs. She would not wait.

We get so little company!

I feel as if I know you already.

Delightful creatures. Are they not?

And you know you must dine at Barton Park every day.

Oh, Sir John, I cannot possibly... No, no, no.

I would not brook refusals. I'm quite deaf to them, you know.

I insist. Let us only settle in for two days.

No, no, no, thanks. I beg you.

I cannot bear it. Couldn't bear it.

I declare.

They are the loveliest girls I ever set eyes on.

Can you not get them married? You must not leave it any longer.

There are no young men hereabout to woo them.

Not a beau for miles.

Come, Mama. Let us leave them in peace.

And send your man up to us for the carriage as soon as you're ready.

Good-bye. Thank you.

No, don't thank us.

Good day to you. Don't thank us.

Come on, boy. Come on, boy. Come on.

Your feet are cold.


What have you been doing? Your neck is so dirty you could grow a potato on it.

It's cold. I'm cold.

Hot. Thank you.

Hot.

How do you manage it?

Where can Brandon be?

Poor fellow. I hope he's not lamed his horse.

Colonel Brandon is the most eligible bachelor in the county.

Yes, indeed. He's bound to do for one of you.

Mind, I think he's a better age for Miss Dashwood.

But I dare say, she's left her heart behind in Sussex, hmm?

I see you, Miss Marianne. I think I've unearthed a secret.

You've sniffed one out already. You're worse than my best pointer.

What sort of man?

Butcher, baker, candlestick maker?

I shall winkle it out of you. She's horribly good at winkling.

You're in lonely country now. We none of us have any secrets here.

If we do, we do not keep them long.

He's curate of the parish.

Or perhaps a handsome lieutenant.

Give us a clue. Is he in uniform?

He has no profession.

No profession? He's a gentleman, then?

You know perfectly well there is no such person.

There is, and his name begins with an F.

An F, indeed. Now there's a promising letter.

F... F... Foster:

Here's one. Forrest.

Yes. Fotheringay. Foggarty.

Oh, yes. I... I... Fortescue. Fondant.

Sir John, might I play your pianoforte?

Yes, of course.

My goodness.

Yes, we do not stand upon ceremony here, my dear.

Please forgive her. An entertainment. I declare.

I cannot remember when we last had a songbird here.

That now lies sleeping Softly, softly Now softly Softly lies sleeping Sleep Is a reconciling A rest that peace begets Doth not the sun Rise smiling When fair at even he sets Rest you then Rest, sad eyes Melt not in weeping While she lies sleeping Softly, softly Now softly Softly lies sleeping

Wasn't that love... Brandon, where have you been?

Come and meet our beautiful new neighbours.

What a pity you're late, Colonel. You have not heard... our delightful songbird, Miss Marianne.

A great pity, indeed.

May I present my dear friend Colonel Brandon?

We served in the East Indies together. There's no better fellow in the world.

Have you really been to the East Indies?

I have. What's it like?

Like? Hot.

The air is full of spices. How lovely.

Now it's your turn to entertain us.

Oh, Sir John, I don't... And I believe...

I know what key you will sing in.

F major.

As for you, you have no right to parade your assumptions...

They're not assumptions. You told me.

I told you nothing.

I'll meet him when he comes.

That's not the point. You don't speak of such things before strangers.

But everyone else was. Mrs. Jennings is not everyone.

I like her. She talks about things.

We never talk about things. Hush. Please.

That is enough. If you cannot think of anything appropriate... you will please restrict your remarks to the weather.

Surely they've got enough reeds for Moses's basket by now.

We've got lots.

Wrap your string around it.

I know it's tight.


You know what they're saying, of course.

Word is, you've developed a taste for certain company.

And why not? A man like you in his prime.

She'd be a very fortunate young lady.

Marianne Dashwood would no more think of me than she would of you.

Brandon, my boy, do not think of yourself so meanly.

And all the better for her.

Very good.

Besotted. An excellent match.

For he's rich, and she's handsome.

How long have you known the colonel?

Lord bless you. As long as ever I've been here, and I came 15 years back.

His estate at Delaford is but four miles hence, and he and John are very thick.

He has no wife and children, for he had a tragic history.

He loved a girl once. Twenty years ago now.

A ward to his family, but they were not permitted to marry.

On what grounds? Money. Eliza was poor.

When the father discovered their amour... she was flung out of the house and he was packed up into the army.

I think he would've done himself a harm if not for John.

What became of the lady?

She was passed from man to man.

Disappeared from all good society.

When Brandon came back from India, he searched heaven knows how long... only to find her dying in a poorhouse.

Once, I thought my daughter Charlotte might've cheered him up... but she's better off where she is.

But look at him now.

So attentive.

I think I shall try an experiment on him.

No, Mrs. Jennings, please. Leave the poor colonel alone.

No, my dear, it's just a thing. All suitors need a little help.

Colonel Brandon, we have not heard you play for us of late.

For the simple reason that you have a far superior musician here.

Perhaps you did not know that our dear Brandon shares your passion for music.

He plays the pianoforte very well.

Oh, come. I thought you know as many melancholy tunes... as Miss Marianne.

You must play us a duet.

Let us see you both side-by-side.

I do not know any duets.

Forgive me, Colonel.

Are we never to have a moment's peace?

The rent here may be low, but we have it on very hard terms.

Mrs. Jennings is a wealthy woman with a married daughter.

She has nothing to do but marry off everyone else's.

A parcel's arrived for you.

Oh, look. Oh, my goodness.

When did this arrive? Can I open it, please?

It is ridiculous. When is a man safe?

Age and infirmity do not protect him. Infirmity?

If Brandon is infirm, then I am at death's door.

It is a miracle you're still alive.

Did he not complain of a rheumatism in his shoulder?

"A slight ache," I believe was his phrase.

But Edward said he would bring it himself.

"Dear Mrs. Dashwood, Miss Dashwood, Miss Marianne and Captain Margaret... it gives me great pleasure to restore this atlas to its rightful owner.

Business in London does not permit me to accompany it.

This is likely to hurt me far more than it hurts you.

For the present, my memories of your kindness must sustain me.

I remain your devoted servant.

Always, E.C. Ferrars."

Why hasn't he come?

He says he's busy, dear.

He said he'd come.

Why hasn't he come? I'm taking you for a walk.

I've been. You need another.

It's going to rain. It won't rain.

You always say that, and then it always does.

I fear Mrs. Jennings is a bad influence.

You must miss him.

We are not engaged, Mama.

But he loves you, dearest. Of that I am certain.

I am by no means assured of his regard for me.

Were he to feel such a preference, I think we should be foolish to assume... that there would not be many obstacles to his marrying a woman of no rank... who cannot afford to buy sugar.

Your heart must tell you...

In such a situation, it is perhaps better to use one's head.

This can't be good for me. It's very good for you.

Stop complaining. It's giving me a cough.

It is not giving you a cough.

Please can we go back? It's lovely. Come on. Catch up.

Just over that fence... there's a field full of rabbits.

Is there any felicity in the world superior to this?

I told you it would rain. There's some blue sky.

Let us chase it. I'm not supposed to run.

Are you hurt?

I do not think I can walk. You must run and fetch help.

I will run as fast as I can.


Don't be afraid. He's quite safe.

Are you hurt?

Only my ankle.

Have I permission to ascertain if there are any breaks?


It is not broken.

Now, can you put your arm about my neck?

Allow me to escort you home.

At last.

She fell down, and he's carrying her.

What?

Oh, my darling. Are you hurt?

It's a twisted ankle.

Do not be alarmed. It's not serious.

I took the liberty of feeling the bone. It's perfectly sound.

Sir, I cannot even begin to thank you. Please do not think of it.

I'm honoured to be of service.

Please, will you not be seated?

Pray, excuse me. I have no desire to leave a water mark... but permit me to call tomorrow afternoon and inquire after the patient?

We shall look forward to it. You're kind.

I'll show you out. Thank you.

Get the gentleman his hat. Thank you.

His name.

Could you tell us to whom we are so much obliged?

John Willoughby of Allenham at your service.

John Willoughby of Allenham.

What an impressive gentleman.

He lifted me as if I weighed no more than a dried leaf.

Is he human?

Tell me if I hurt you.

She feels no pain, Mama.

Ask Betsy to make up a cold compress, please.

Quickly as you can. Please don't say anything important.

Go on. Did you see him?

He expressed himself well, did he not?

With great decorum.

And spirit and wit and feeling.

And economy.

Wait for me!

He's coming tomorrow.

You must change. You'll catch cold.

What care I when there is such a man?

You will care when your nose swells up.

You're right. Help me.

Mr. Willoughby's well worth catching.

Miss Marianne must not expect to have all the men to herself.

What do you know of Mr. Willoughby, Sir John?

Decent shot.

There's not a bolder rider in all England.

What's he like?

What are his tastes, his passions, his pursuits?

Well... he has the smartest little bitch of a pointer.

Was she out with him yesterday?

Where is Allenham?

Allenham? Nice little estate, three miles east.

He is to inherit it from an elderly relative.

Lady Allen is the name.

It's Colonel Brandon.

I shall go outside and keep watch.

Hello, Colonel.

You're all on the lookout for Willoughby, eh?

Poor Brandon. Will none of you think of him now?

Come in.

Colonel. Good morning, Brandon.

Good morning.

How's the invalid?

Oh, thank you so much, Colonel. Would you?

I cannot think why you should set your cap at Willoughby... when you've already made such a splendid conquest.

I have no intention of setting my cap at anyone.

Mr. Willoughby, Lady Allen's nephew?

Aye. He visits every year.

And he has a very pretty estate of his own, you know:

Combe Magna in Somerset.

If I were you, I would not give him up... to a younger sister for all this tumbling downhill.

Marianne's preserver.

Don't run.

The man himself. Come. We know when we're not wanted.

Let us leave him to the ladies.

Thank you for calling.

The colonel and Sir John are leaving.

Good-bye, Sir John. Colonel, thank you for the flowers.

How do you do, Colonel? How do you do, more like.

Go on in. They're waiting for you.

Come, Briar.

Good day, Mr. Willoughby.

Stop.

What a pleasure to see you again.

The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.

I trust Miss Marianne has not caught cold?

You found out my name. But of course.

The neighborhood is crawling with my spies.

And since you cannot venture out to nature... nature must be brought to you.

Oh, how beautiful.

These are not from the hothouse.

Ah, I see mine is not the first offering, nor the most elegant.

I'm afraid I obtained those from an obliging field.

I've always preferred wildflowers.

I suspected as much.

Put these in water? Yes. Excuse me.

Our gratitude is beyond expression. It is I who am grateful.

I've often passed this cottage and grieved for its lonely state.

Then the first news from Lady Allen when I arrived was that it was taken.

I felt a peculiar interest, which nothing can account for... but my present delight in meeting you.

Pray, sit down. Thank you.

Ah, who is reading Shakespeare's sonnets?

I am. Marianne.

Marianne is reading them out to us. Which are your favourites?

Without a doubt, mine is 116.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.

Love is not love which alters... when it alteration finds... or bends with the remover to remove."

How does it continue?

"Oh no: It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests..."

...storms. Oh.

Is it "tempests"?

I do believe it is "tempests." Let me find it.

It's strange you should be reading these, for I carry them always.

Oh, how beautiful.

Until tomorrow then.

And my pocket sonnets are yours... a talisman against further injury.

Good-bye. Thank you.

Good work.

You've covered Shakespeare, Scott, all forms of poetry.

Another meeting will ascertain his views on nature and romantic attachments.

Then you will have nothing left to talk about.

I suppose I have erred against decorum.

I should've been dull and spiritless and talked only of the weather.

No, but Mr. Willoughby can be in no doubt of your enthusiasm for him.

Why should he doubt it? Why should I hide my regard?

No particular reason. Only that we know so little of him.

Time alone does not determine intimacy.

Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted... and seven days can be more than enough for others.

Or seven hours in this case.

I feel I know Mr. Willoughby already.

If I had more shallow feelings, I could perhaps conceal them as you do.

That is not fair.

I'm sorry. I did not mean... Do not trouble yourself.

I do not understand her.


Haven't you finished?

Patience.

Surely you're not going to deny us beef as well as sugar?

There is nothing under ten pence a pound. We have to economize.

Do you want us to starve?

Just not to eat beef.


Slow down for the corner.

Careful. You'll run someone down.

Did you see that?

I do think they'll be married before long.

If there was any true impropriety in my behaviour, I should be sensible of it.

It has already exposed you to some very impertinent remarks.

Do you not begin to doubt your own discretion?

If the remarks of Mrs. Jennings are proof of impropriety... then we're all offending.

Good morning. Good morning, Colonel.

Miss Dashwood. Miss Marianne.

I come to issue an invitation.

A picnic on my estate at Delaford.

If you would care to join us... on Thursday next.

Mrs. Jennings' daughter and her husband are travelling up especially.

We should be delighted.

I will, of course, be including Mr. Willoughby in the party.

I should be delighted to join you.

Good morning.

The colonel has invited us to Delaford.

Excellent. I understand you have a fine pianoforte.

A Broadwood grand.

Then I shall be able to play for you all.

We shall look forward to it. Good day. Walk on. Walk on.

Good-bye.

Your sister seems very happy.

Yes.

Marianne does not approve of hiding her emotions.

In fact, her romantic prejudices have the tendency to set propriety at naught.

She is wholly unspoiled.

Rather too unspoiled in my view.

The sooner she becomes acquainted with the ways of the world the better.

I knew a lady very like your sister... the same impulsive sweetness of temper... who was forced into, as you put it, "a better acquaintance with the world."

The result was only ruination and despair.

Do not desire it.

Colonel Brandon's lawn is perfect for kite launching.

We must have your sky kite. Mind them pretty ribbons.

Set that in there.

Imagine my surprise when Charlotte and her lord and master... appeared with our cousin Lucy, the last person I expected to see.

She probably came to join in the fun.

There are no funds for such luxuries at home, poor thing.

I've not seen you for so long, I couldn't resist the opportunity.

You sly thing. It was the Dashwoods she wanted to see, not Delaford.

I have heard nothing but "Miss Dashwood this, Miss Dashwood that."

What do you think now you do see them, Lucy?

My mother has talked of nothing else in her letters.

Are they the creatures she describes? Nothing like.

You are quite rude today. He used to be an M. P.

It's fatiguing, for he's forced to make everybody like him.

He says it's quite shocking. I never said anything so irrational.

Mr. Palmer is so droll. He's always out of humour.

Oh. Here he comes.

Now you shall see, Charlotte.

Hello.

Come. You must meet my daughter Charlotte. Mr. Palmer.

How do you do?

And our little cousin, Miss Lucy Steele.

Welcome to our party, Miss Steele.

Turn about. Come round, boys.

I know Mr. Willoughby extremely well. It's not fair to say...

May I beg a seat beside you?

I've so longed to make your acquaintance.

I've heard nothing but the highest praise of you.

I would be delighted.

But Sir John and Mrs. Jennings are excessive in their compliments.

Oh, no. I'm sure to disappoint.

It was from another source I heard you praised... and one not at all inclined to exaggeration.

What can this be?

Colonel Brandon here? Over here.

There he is.

My horse, quickly.

What's the matter?

I must away to London. No. Impossible.

Imperative. But we're all assembled.

We cannot picnic at Delaford without a host. Go up to town tomorrow.

Or wait until we return. You'd not be six hours later.

I cannot afford to lose one minute.

Forgive me.

I hope it's nothing serious.

Upon my soul, this is all very unusual.

Just when I had the opportunity...

Frailty, thy name is Brandon.

There are some people who cannot bear a party of pleasure.

You're a very wicked pair. Colonel Brandon will be sadly missed.

Why... when he is a man that everyone speaks well of and no one remembers to talk to?

Exactly. Nonsense. He's highly respected.

Enough censure in itself, hmm? Really, Willoughby.

Come, come, Mr. Impudence.

I know you and your wicked ways. Oh!

Come, Miss Dashwood. Reveal your beau.

Let's have no secrets. Let me winkle them out of you.

Hush. I do declare, Miss Marianne.

If I do not have you married by teatime, I shall swallow my own bonnet.

As if you could marry such a character.

Why should you dislike him?

Because he has threatened me with rain when I wanted it fine.

He has found fault with the balance of my high flyer... and I cannot persuade him to buy my mare.

If it will be of any satisfaction to you, however... to be told that I believe his character... to be irreproachable, then I'm ready to confess it.

In return for such a painful acknowledgment... you cannot deny me the privilege... of disliking him as much as I adore...

this cottage.

I have great plans... for improvements to it.

Now, that I will never consent to.

Not a stone must be added to its walls.

Were I rich enough, I would pull down Combe Magna... and rebuild it like this cottage.

With dark narrow stairs... a poky hall and a fire that smokes, I suppose.

Especially the fire that smokes.

For then I should be as happy at Combe as I have been at Barton.

This has one claim on my affections that none other can possibly share.

Promise me you'll never change it.

I'm honoured that so fair and virtuous a lady... should compromise her honour by seeing me to the gate unaccompanied.

That is exactly what Elinor would say.

And she would be right.

Miss Marianne, will you do me the honor of granting me an interview tomorrow?

Alone? Oh, Willoughby, we're always alone.

But there is...

There's something very particular I should like to ask you.

Of course.

I shall ask Mama if I may stay behind from church.

Thank you.

Until tomorrow, then.

Miss Marianne.

O Virtue.

Silently and with fear, enter Thou... into the hearts of all them that hear me this day.

Do you think he'll kneel down when he asks her?

The fear of Him is the beginning of wisdom.

They always kneel down. Good understanding have all that do.

Margaret, Margaret, come back.

Splendid sermon. Splendid.

Oh, no!

What is wrong, dearest?

Willoughby, what is the matter?

I must...

Forgive me, Mrs. Dashwood. I'm sent...

That is to say, Lady Allen has exercised the privilege of riches... upon a dependent cousin and is sending me to London.

When? This morning?

Almost this moment. What a disappointment.

But your business will not detain you for long, I hope?

You're very kind, but...

I have no idea of returning immediately into Devonshire.

I'm seldom invited to Allenham more than once a year.

For shame. Can you wait for an invitation from Barton Cottage?

My engagements at present are of such a nature...

That is to say...

I dare not flatter my...

It is folly to linger. I will not torment myself further.

Willoughby, come back:

Margaret, ask Betsy to make a cup of hot tea for Marianne.

What is wrong, my love? Do not ask me questions.

Betsy: Please, let me be!

They must have quarrelled.

That is unlikely.

Perhaps this Lady Allen... disapproves of his regard for Marianne.... and has invented an excuse to send him away.

Then why did he not say as much?

It is not like Willoughby to be secretive.

What is it you suspect him of? I can hardly tell you.

But why was his manner so guilty? What are you saying?

That he's been acting a part for all this time?

No, he loves her. I'm sure. Of course he loves her!

Has he left her with any assurance of his return?

Cannot you ask her if he has proposed?

Certainly not. I cannot force a confidence, nor should you.

We must trust her to confide in us in her own time.

There was something so underhand in the manner of his leaving.

You are resolved to think the worst? I'm not resolved.

I prefer to give him the benefit of my good opinion.

He deserves no less from all of us!

Mama, I am very fond of Willoughby.

She would not let me in.


To sail us up the river.

How will we travel on land?

If only this rain would stop!

If only you would stop.

It was you who took her off my hands, Mr. Palmer.

And a very good bargain you made of it too.

Now I have the whip hand over you, for you cannot give her back.

Miss Marianne, come and play a round with us.

Looking out at the weather will not bring him back.

She ate nothing at dinner.

We're all a little forlorn.

London has swallowed our company.

Dear Miss Dashwood, perhaps we might have our discussion.

Our discussion?

There is a particular question I've long wanted to ask you.

But perhaps you'll think me impertinent?

I cannot imagine so. It is an odd question.

I have no wish to trouble you. Miss Steele...

If only Mr. Willoughby... had gone home to Combe Magna, we could have taken...

Miss Marianne to see him, for we live but half a mile away.

Five and a half. I cannot believe it.

You can see the place from our hill. Is it really? I cannot believe it.

Try.

You have my permission to ask any question, if that is of any help.

Thank you.

Are you at all acquainted with your sister-in-law's mother?

Mrs. Ferrars?

With Fanny's mother?

No, I have never met her.

You must think me strange for inquiring.

If only I dared tell it.

If she tells you aught of the famous Mr. F... you must pass it on.

Will you take a turn with me, Miss Dashwood?

Of course.

I had no idea... that you were at all connected with that family.

I am certainly nothing to Mrs. Ferrars at present... but the time may come... when we may be very intimately connected.

What do you mean?

Do you have an...

Do you have an understanding with Fanny's brother Robert?

The youngest?

No. I never met him in my life.

No, with Edward.

Edward and I have been secretly engaged... these five years.

You may well be surprised.

I should never have mentioned it if I could not trust you to keep our secret.

Edward would not mind... for he looks on you as his own sister.

I'm sorry. We... Surely we...

We surely do not mean the same Mr. Ferrars.

The very same.

He was four years under the tutelage of my uncle, Mr. Pratt, in Plymouth.

Has he never spoken of it?

I believe he has.

I was very unwilling... without his mother's approval.

But we loved each other with too great a passion for prudence.

Though you do not know him as well as I... you must have seen his ability... to make a woman sincerely attached to him.

I cannot pretend it has not been very hard on us both.

We can scarcely meet above twice a year.

You seem out of sorts. Are you well? Perfectly well. Thank you.

I've not offended you? On the contrary.

I cannot stand it.

I must know what you are saying.

If anyone finds out, it will ruin him.

Promise me you'll not tell.

Miss Dashwood is quite engrossed.

No secrets, Lucy. I give you my word.

What can have fascinated you to such an extent, Miss Dashwood?

Tell us all:

We were talking of London, ma'am, and of all its diversions.

Do you hear that, Charlotte? While you were whispering...

Charlotte and I have concocted a plan.

It is the best plan in the world!

I make for London shortly, and I invite you, Lucy... and both the Misses Dashwood to join me.

Splendid idea. London:

Can I go? You're too young.

I shall convey you to Chelsea, and we will taste the delights of the season.

What say you? Please can I go? I'm 12 soon:

Mr. Palmer, do you not long to have the Misses Dashwood come to London?

I came into Devonshire with no other view.

Mrs. Jennings, you are very kind.

But we cannot leave our mother. Your mother can spare you very well!

Of course I can! Of course she can!

I could not be more delighted. It is exactly what I would wish.

I will brook no refusal, Miss Dashwood.

Let us strike hands on the bargain.

And if I do not have the three of you... married by Michaelmas, it will not be my fault.

I was never so grateful in all my life as I am to Mrs. Jennings.

I shall see Willoughby, and you will see Edward!

Are you asleep?

With you in the room?

I do not believe you feel as calm as you look. Not even you.

I will never sleep tonight.

What were you and Miss Steele talking about so long?

Nothing of significance.

You must look after Mama:

We will!

Good-bye:

How do you think I live, poking about... in that house by myself when I have been used to having Charlotte... until she had the baby?

I have written to Edward.

And yet I do not know how much I may see of him.

Secrecy is vital. He'll never be able to call.

I should imagine not.

It's so hard. I believe my only comfort... has been the constancy of his affection.

You're fortunate, over such a lengthy engagement... never to have had any doubts on that score.

Oh. I'm of rather a jealous nature.

If he talked more of one young woman than any other...

But he's never given a moment's alarm on that count.

Imagine how glad he'll be to learn that we are friends.

There you are. Have you missed me? Very much, ma'am.

You always say so, and I never believe you. I trust everything's in order?

In good order, ma'am, though I might suggest the ordering of coal.

Don't talk to me of coals.

There you are, Pooter. Still alive, I see.

Tea, Pigeon. Tea. Yes, ma'am.

Well, you do not waste any time.

Give it to Pigeon. He'll see to it.

Come along dear. A letter. They're definitely engaged.

Mrs. Jennings says your sister will buy her wedding clothes in town.

I know of no such plan.

John and Fanny are in town. I think we shall be forced to see them.

See.

I think it was for next door. Yes, you are right.

Marianne, do sit down for two seconds together.

You're making me nervous.

Good afternoon, sir. Is Miss Marianne here?

Shh. Who shall I say is calling?

Very good, sir.

Oh, Elinor, it is Willoughby.

Indeed, it is.

Excuse me, Colonel.

Colonel.

What a pleasure to see you.

Have you been in London all this while? Forgive me, Miss Dashwood.

I have heard reports through town... that...

Tell me once and for all.

Is everything finally resolved between your sister and Mr. Willoughby?

Colonel, though neither one has informed me... of their understanding...

I have no doubt of their mutual affection.

Thank you, Miss Dashwood.

To your sister, I wish all imaginable happiness.

To Mr. Willoughby... that he may endeavour to deserve her.

What do you mean?

Forgive me, I...

Where is dear Edward, John? We expect to see him daily.

Who is "dear Edward," may I ask? Who, indeed?

My brother, Mrs. Jennings. Mr. Edward Ferrars.

Indeed: Is that Ferrars with an "F"?

Are there any messages, Pigeon?

No messages at all? No cards? None, ma'am.

I notice you do not inquire for your messages.

No, indeed, for I do not expect any.

I have no... very little acquaintance in town.

I don't want to hear another word about the ham bone, Pigeon.

You and Cartwright must sort that out between you.

No messages, ma'am.

Now, do not fret, my dear. I have been told that this good weather... is keeping many of our sportsmen in the country at present.

But the frost will soon drive them to town. Depend on it.

Of course. I had not thought of that.

Thank you, Mrs. Jennings.

And Miss Dashwood may set her heart at rest... for I overheard your sister-in-law say... she is to invite the elusive Mr. F to the ball tonight!

Do be careful, dears. The horses have been here.

Careful. It's beginning to rain also.

Now follow me.

Whoops.

Steady.

This is madness! This is dribbling, babbling madness!

This is very merry!

Oh, do you spy anyone we know? Not a soul.

Ask Mr. Palmer to look. He has a better view.

Mr. Palmer, do you see anyone of our acquaintance?

Unfortunately not. How can you be such a tease?

There is Mrs. John Dashwood. I can see her for myself.

Hello: Come along, my dears.

There you are!

Mrs. Jennings. Goodness, how hot it is.

Indeed. You're not alone, I trust?

Indeed, no. John is just gone to fetch my brother.

They've been eating ices.

Your brother! I declare!

This is good news, indeed. At long last.

I declare, I shall faint clean away.

Mrs. Jennings, I am pleased to see you.

May I present my brother-in-law...

Mr. Robert Ferrars.

My dear ladies, we meet at last.

You must be the younger brother.

Is Mr. Edward not here?

Miss Dashwood here was counting on him.

He's far too busy... for such gatherings and has no special acquaintance here... to make his attendance worthwhile.

I declare, I do not know what the young men are about these days.

Are they all in hiding?

Come, Mr. Robert. In the absence of your brother... you must dance with our lovely Miss Dashwood here.

It would be my honour.

And perhaps Miss Steele... might consider reserving the allemande.


You reside in Devonshire, I believe, Miss Dashwood?

In a cottage?

I am excessively fond of a cottage.

If I had any money to spare, I should build one myself.

How do you do, Miss Dashwood?

I'm very well, thank you.

How's your family? They're all extremely well.

Thank you for your kind inquiry.

Who is it?

She came in with Mrs. Jennings.

With Mrs. John Dashwood.

Good God, Willoughby.

Will you not shake hands with me?

How do you do, Miss Marianne?

What is the matter?

Why have you not come to see me?

Were you not in London? Have you not received my letters?

I had the pleasure of receiving the information you sent me.

For heaven's sake, Willoughby. Tell me what is wrong.

Thank you. I'm most obliged.

If you will excuse me, I must rejoin my party.

Ah, Willoughby.

Go to him, Elinor. Force him to come to me instantly.

Marianne, you must come away.

Do you know them?

Acquaintances from the country.

Indeed. Wearing their country fashions, I see.

Come away, dearest.

I do not understand.

I must speak to him. There you are, my dear!

Oh, my goodness! Come, dear. You need some air.

She called out his name. John Dashwood's sisters.

Come, dear. We must go. We're leaving so soon?

If I might be so bold, it would be our pleasure to escort your charge home.

How very kind. That is very handsome of you.

She actually sent him messages during the night?

Yes, indeed. Mr. Pigeon was not himself all day.

Marianne, please tell me.

Do not ask me questions.

You have no confidence in me.

This reproach from you? You who confide in no one?

I have nothing to tell.

Nor I. Neither of us have anything to tell.

I, because I conceal nothing, and you, because you communicate nothing.

I wish Lady Charteris would limit her invitation list. It was so warm.

I'm glad we left early.

There, now.

Lovers' quarrels are swift to heal.

That letter will do the trick. Mark my words. I must be off.

I do hope he doesn't keep her waiting much longer.

It hurts to see her looking so forlorn.

Pigeon!

What a welcome I had from Edward's family.

I'm surprised you never mentioned how agreeable your sister-in-law is.

And Mr. Robert. All so affable.

It is perhaps fortunate that none of them knows of your engagement.

Excuse me.

"My dear madam, I'm at a loss... to discover how I could have offended you.

My esteem for your family is very sincere... but if I have given rise to a belief of more than I felt or meant to express...

I shall reproach myself for not having been more guarded.

My affections have long been engaged elsewhere.

It is with great regret that I return your letters and the lock of hair... which you so obligingly bestowed upon me.

I am..." Etcetera. "John Willoughby."

Dearest.

It is best to know what his intentions are at once.

Think how you would have felt if your engagement had continued for months... before he chose to put an end to it.

We're not engaged.

But you wrote to him. I thought he left you with some kind of understanding.

No, he's not so unworthy as you think him.

Not so unworthy? Did he tell you that he loved you?

Yes.

No. Never absolutely.

It was every day implied, but never declared.

Sometimes I thought it had been, but it never was.

He has broken no vow.

He's broken faith with all of us! He made us all believe he loved you:

He did.

He loved me as I loved him.

I had to come straight up. How are you, Miss Marianne?

Oh, poor thing. She looks very bad.

'Tis no wonder, for 'tis but too true.

I was told by Miss Morton, a friend, he is to be married this month... to a Miss Grey with £50,000:

Said I, "If 'tis true, he is a good-for-nothing... who's used my young friend abominably ill... and I wish with all my soul that his wife... might plague his heart out."

Oh, my dear.

He's not the only young man worth having.

With your pretty face, you'll never want for admirers.

There.

Better let her have her cry out and have done with it.

I will go look out something to tempt her.

Does she care for olives?

I cannot tell you.

Apparently, they never were engaged.

Miss Grey has £50,000. Marianne is virtually penniless.

She cannot have expected him to go through with it.

But I feel for Marianne. She will lose her bloom... and end a spinster, like Elinor.

I think we might consider having them stay with us for a few days.

We are, after all, family. My father... My love.

I would ask them with all my heart, but...

I've already asked Miss Steele for a visit.

We cannot deprive Mrs. Jennings of all her company at once.

We can invite your sisters some other year, you know.

Miss Steele will profit far more from your generosity.

Poor girl. Excellent notion.

Colonel Brandon to see you, Miss Dashwood.

Colonel.

Thank you so much for coming.

How is your sister?

I must get her home as quickly as possible.

The Palmers can take us to their home, which is but a day from Barton.

Permit me to accompany you and take you straight on from Cleveland to Barton.

I confess that is precisely what I had hoped for.

Marianne suffers cruelly.

What pains me most is how hard she tries... to justify Mr. Willoughby, but you know her disposition.

Perhaps... I...

Would you allow me... to relate some circumstances which nothing but a desire of being useful...

You have something to tell me of Mr. Willoughby?

When I quitted Barton last...

No, I must go further back.

No doubt...

No doubt, Mrs. Jennings has apprised you... of certain events in my past.

The sad outcome of my connection with a young woman named Eliza.

What is not commonly known is that... twenty years ago, before she died, Eliza bore an illegitimate child.

The father, whoever he was, abandoned them.

As Eliza lay dying... she begged me to look after the child.

I had failed Eliza in every other way.

I could not refuse her now.

I took the child... Beth is her name... and placed her with a family in the country where she would be looked after.

I saw her whenever I could.

She grew up so headstrong, and God forgive me...

I indulged her, I allowed her too much freedom.

Almost a year ago, she disappeared.

Disappeared? I instigated a search.

But for eight months I was left to imagine the worst.

At last, on the day of the Delaford picnic...

I received the first news of her.

She was with child.

And the blackguard who had left her with no hint of his whereabouts...

Oh, good God.

Do you mean Willoughby?

Before I could confront him...

Lady Allen had learned of his behaviour and turned him from the house.

He fled to London. He left us without any explanation.

Lady Allen had annulled his legacy. He was left with next to nothing... and in danger of losing Combe Magna... and all the money that remained to his debtors.

So he abandoned Marianne... for Miss Grey and her £50,000.

Is Beth still in town?

She has chosen to return to the country for her confinement.

I would not have burdened you, Miss Dashwood... had I not, from my heart believed it might in time... lessen your sister's regrets.

I have described Mr. Willoughby... as the worst of libertines.

But I have learned from Lady Allen... that he did mean to propose that day, and therefore...

I cannot deny that his intentions towards Marianne... were honorable, and...

I feel certain that he would have married her... had it not been...

For the money.

Dearest, was I right to tell you?

Of course.

Whatever his past actions... whatever his present course... at least you may be certain that he loved you.

But not enough.

Here is someone to cheer you up, Miss Dashwood.

Oh, how is your dear sister, Miss Dashwood?

Poor thing.

I do not know what I should do if a man treated me with so little respect.

How are you enjoying your stay with John and Fanny, Miss Steele?

I was never so happy in my entire life, Miss Dashwood.

I believe your sister-in-law has taken quite a fancy to me.

I had to come, for you cannot imagine what has happened.

No, I cannot. Yesterday...

I was introduced to Edward's mother:

She was a vast deal more than civil.

I have not yet seen Edward, but I feel sure to very soon.

Come in.

There's a Mr. Edward Ferrars to see you, Miss Dashwood.

Do ask him to come in.

This way, sir.


What a pleasure to see you.

Miss Dashwood, how can I... You know Miss Steele, of course.

Indeed. How do you do, Miss Steele?

I am well, thank you, Mr. Ferrars.

Do sit down.

You must be surprised to find me here.

I expect you thought I was at your sister's house.

Let me fetch Marianne.

She would be most disappointed to miss you.

Edward! I heard your voice.

At last you found us. Forgive me, Marianne.

My visit is shamefully overdue. You're pale!

You've not been unwell, I hope.

Do not think of me. Elinor is well, you see.

That must be enough for both of us.

Indeed. And how do you enjoy London, Miss Marianne?

Not at all. The sight of you is all the pleasure it has afforded.

Is that not so, Elinor?

Why have you not come before?

I have been much engaged elsewhere.

Engaged elsewhere?

But what was that when there were such friends to be met?

Perhaps you think young men never honor their engagements, little or great.

No, indeed.

Edward is the most incapable of being selfish... of anyone I ever saw.

Edward, will you not sit?

Elinor, help me to persuade him.

Forgive me. I must take my leave.

You've only just arrived. If you would excuse me...

I have an urgent commission to attend to on Fanny's behalf.

In that case, perhaps you might escort me back to your sister's house.

It would be an honour.


Why did you not urge him to stay?

He must have had his reasons for going.

His reason was, no doubt, your coldness!

If I were Edward, I would assume you did not care for me at all.

Poor Miss Marianne looked very badly the other day. If frightens me... to think that I shall never marry.

Nonsense. You will marry far better than either of the Dashwood girls.

But I have no dowry.

There are qualities which will always make up for that... and you have them in abundance.

It would not surprise me if you were to marry far and away... beyond your expectations.

I wish that might be so.

There is a young man.

Aha. I'm glad to hear of it.

Is he of good fortune and breeding?

Of both.

But his family would certainly oppose the match.

Tush. They will allow it as soon as they see you, my dear.

It is a very great secret.

I've told nobody in the world... for fear of discovery.

I am the soul of discretion.

If I dared tell...

I can assure you, I am as silent as the grave.

It's your brother Edward.

Viper in my bosom:

Get out:

Stop this!

Oh, my dears. What a commotion:

Mr. Edward Ferrars, the very one I used to joke you about... is engaged these five years... to Lucy Steele.

Poor Mr. Ferrars. His mother... who by all accounts is very proud... has demanded that he break the engagement on pain of disinheritance.

But he has refused to break his promise to Lucy.

He has stood by her, good man... and is cut off without a penny.

She has settled it all irrevocably on Mr. Robert.

But I cannot stop. I must go to Lucy. Your sister-in-law... scolded her like any fury, drove her to hysteria.

How long have you known?

Pigeon, I need the carriage this instant!

Since the night Mrs. Jennings offered to take us to London.

Why did you not tell me?

Lucy told me in strictest confidence.

I could not break my word. But Edward loves you.

He made me no promises. He tried to tell me about Lucy.

He cannot marry her.

Would you have him treat her even worse than Willoughby has treated you?

But nor would I have him marry where he does not love.

Edward made his promise long ago... long before he met me.

Though he may harbor some regret...

I believe that he will be happy in the knowledge... that he kept his word.

After all that is bewitching... in the idea of one's happiness entirely depending on one person... it is not always possible, we must accept.

Edward will marry Lucy... and you and I will go home.

Always resignation and acceptance.

Always prudence and honour and duty.

Elinor, where is your heart?

What do you know of my heart?

What do you know of anything but your own suffering?

For weeks, Marianne, I've had this pressing on me... without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature.

It was forced on me by the very person whose prior claims... ruined all my hope.

I have endured her exaltation again and again... whilst knowing myself to be divided from Edward forever.

Believe me, Marianne, had I not been bound to silence...

I could have produced proof enough of a broken heart even for you.


I have heard that owing to his engagement... your friend Mr. Ferrars has lost his fortune Irrevocably to his brother.

Have I been rightly informed? Is it so?

It is indeed so.

Are you acquainted with Mr. Ferrars?

No, we have never met.

But I know only too well the cruelty... the impolitic cruelty... of dividing two young people long attached to one another.

I have a proposal to make... that should enable him to marry Miss Steele immediately.

Since the gentleman is close to your family... perhaps you would be good enough to mention it to him.

Colonel, I am sure he would be only too delighted... to hear it from your own lips.

I think not.

His behaviour has proved him proud.

In the best sense.

I feel certain this is the right course.

Mr. Edward Ferrars.

Thank you for responding so promptly to my message.

I was most grateful to receive it.

God knows what you must think of me. I have no right to speak, I know.

I have... I have good news.

Do please sit down.

I think you know of our friend Colonel Brandon.

Yes, I've heard his name. Colonel Brandon desires me to say... that understanding you wish to join the clergy... he has great pleasure in offering you the parish... on his estate at Delaford... in the hope that it may enable you and Miss Steele to marry.

Colonel Brandon?

He is concerned for the cruel situation in which you now find yourselves.

Colonel Brandon give me a parish?

Can it be possible?

The unkindness of your family makes you astonished to find friendship elsewhere.

Not to find it in you.

I cannot be ignorant that it is certainly to you that I owe this.

I'd... I feel it.

I would express it if I could, but, as you know, I am no orator.

You are mistaken. You owe it almost entirely to your own merit.

I've had no hand in it.

Colonel Brandon must be a man of great worth and respectability.

Yes, he is the kindest and best of men.

May I ask why the colonel did not tell me himself?

I think he felt it would be better coming from a friend.

Your friendship has been the most important of my life.

You will always have it.

Forgive me.

You honour your promises. That is more important than anything else.

I...

I wish you both very happy.

Miss Dashwood.


What a stroke of luck for Lucy and Edward to find a parish close to Barton!

We'll meet very often. That will cheer you up, Miss Marianne.

I have never disliked a person so much as Mr. Willoughby. Insufferable man!

To think we can see his insufferable house from our hill!

I shall ask Jackson to plant some very tall trees.

You will do nothing of the sort.

I hear Miss Grey's bridal gown was everything of the finest.

Made in Paris, no less.

Oh, Mrs. Bunting: We're in desperate need of tea!

Thank you, Colonel. Mrs. Bunting, I am glad to see you.

What a journey we've had. My bones are rattling still.

How goes things? Very well.

I do not think she drew breath from the moment we left London.

I should have found another way. There was no other way.

But I will take a stroll. A moment's peace, Elinor.

I think it is going to rain. Miss Dashwood! Come and have some tea:

It will not rain. You always say that, and then it does.

I shall keep to the garden, near the house.

How can you say such a thing?

We're very proud of our little Thomas, Colonel.

His papa has such a way with him.

I have seldom seen a father take to a child so. Do not fear, Mrs. Bunting.

Hush: Oh, there you are, Miss Dashwood.

Come and meet little Thomas.

I cannot see Marianne.

Oh, there.


"Love is not love... which alters when it alteration finds... or bends with the remover to remove.

Oh, no.

It is an ever-fixed mark... that looks on tempests... and is never shaken."

She'll be wet through when she returns.

Thank you for pointing that out, my dear.

Do not worry, Miss Dashwood. Brandon will find her.

I think we can all guess where she went.

Oh, thank you.

She's not hurt, but we must get her warm.

Charlotte. The fire is lit in my room. Do hurry.

Higgins, fetch us some blankets.

And brandy.


I think Marianne may need a doctor.


You'll wear yourself out, Colonel.

Do not worry. A day or two in bed will soon set her to rights.

You can rely upon Harris, Colonel. I've never found a better physician.

What is the diagnosis? It is an infectious fever... that has taken far more serious hold... than I would have expected in one so young.

I would recommend the hasty removal of your child, Mrs. Palmer.

Mrs. Bunting:

My dear Miss Dashwood.

I am more sorry than I can say.

If you would prefer me to stay, I am at your service.

Mr. Palmer, that is very kind, but Colonel Brandon... and Dr. Harris will look after us.

Thank you for everything you have done.


She is not doing as well as I would like.

What can I do?

Colonel, you have done so much already.

Give me an occupation, Miss Dashwood, or I shall run mad.

She would be easier if her mother were here.

Of course.


I must fetch more laudanum.

I cannot pretend that your sister's condition is not very serious.

You must prepare yourself.

I will return very shortly.


Marianne, please try.


I cannot...

I cannot do without you.

Oh, please.

I have tried to bear everything else.

I will try.

Please, dearest.

Beloved Marianne.

Do not leave me alone.


My mother.

She is out of danger.

Oh, there, there, my love.

Oh, my Marianne.

Where is Elinor? I'm here.

Dearest, I am here.

Colonel Brandon.

Thank you.


"Or weigh the thought...

But if the weight of these thou canst not show, weigh but one word... which from thy lips doth fall."

He certainly is not so dashing as Willoughby... but he has a far more pleasing countenance.

There was something, if you remember, in Willoughby's eyes at times... that I did not like.

"It is no more at all.

Nor is the earth the lesse, or loseth aught.

For whatsoever from one place doth fall... is with the tide unto another brought.

For there is nothing lost... that may be found... if sought."

Shall we continue tomorrow?

No, for I must away.

Away? Where?

That I cannot tell you.

It is a secret.

You will not stay away long?

There.

There I fell, and there I first saw Willoughby.

Poor Willoughby. He will always regret you.

But does it follow that having chosen me he would have been content?

He would've had a wife he loved but no money... and might soon have learned to rank the demands of his pocketbook... far above the demands of his heart.

If his present regrets are half as painful as mine, he will suffer enough.

Do you compare your conduct with his?

I compare it with what it ought to have been.

I compare it with yours.

Oh, Thomas. I fetched those beef fillets for you.

Beef is far less expensive in Exeter.

Anyway, it's for Marianne. Thank you.

Was Exeter crowded? It was indeed.

I spoke to Mrs. Braintree. She told me Miss Pothington's had another stroke.

She has no sense or feeling.

Miss Murden has been obliged to turn away Coles for his drunkenness.

Oh, and Mr. Ferrars is married, but you know that.

But, Elinor, I Th...

Who told you that Mr. Ferrars was married?

I seen Mrs. Ferrars myself:

Miss Lucy Steele as was.

She and Mr. Ferrars were stopping in a chaise at the New London Inn.

I looked up as I passed by, and I see it was Miss Steele... so I took off my hat.

She inquired after you, ma'am, and all you young ladies... especially Miss Dashwood... and begged me to give you her and Mr. Ferrars' best compliments... and how they'd send you a piece of the cake.

Did Mrs. Ferrars seem well? Oh, yes.

She was vastly contented, and since she was always a very affable young lady...

I made free to wish her joy.

Thank you.

I can't...

It's for us:

What is it? I'm not sure, but it's right heavy.

"I have found a small enough instrument to fit the parlour.

I shall follow in a day or two, and I'll expect you to have learnt the enclosed.

Your devoted friend, Christopher Brandon."

Oh, my darling, look.

Oh, it fits perfectly.

Here you are.

Fetch some tea.

He must like you very much.

It is not just for me. It is for all of us.

Or scorn or pity On me take I must The true relation make I am undone Tonight Love in a subtle dream disguised Hath both my heart and me surprised

Whom never yet He doth attempt awake Here is Colonel Brandon.

When will he fell me For whose sake

I don't think it is the colonel.

It must be. He said he would arrive today. You must play your new song.

It is Edward.

Calm. We must be calm.

Edward's here. Sit down.

Sit. Shh. Not a word.

Good afternoon, Mr. Ferrars. Good afternoon. Are the ladies home?

They are indeed. Come this way.

Mr. Ferrars for you.

What a pleasure to see you.

I trust I find you all well?

Thank you. We all are very well.

We've been enjoying very fine weather.

Well, we have.

Well, I'm glad to hear it. The roads were very dry.

May I wish you great joy.

Thank you.

I hope you have left Mrs. Ferrars well.

Tolerably. Thank you.

Is Mrs. Ferrars at the new parish?

No, my mother is in town.

I meant to inquire after Mrs. Edward Ferrars.

Well, then you... You've not heard?

I think you mean my brother. You mean Mrs. Robert Ferrars.

Mrs. Robert Ferrars?

Yes.

I...

I received a letter... from Miss Steele...

Mrs. Ferrars, I should say... communicating to me... the transfer of her affections to my brother, Robert.

It seems they were much thrown together in London... and in view of the change in my circumstances, I felt it... only right that she be released from our engagement.

At any rate, they were married last week in Plymouth.

Then you...

are not married?


I met Lucy when I was very young.

Had I had an active profession, I should never have felt... such an idle and foolish inclination.

My behaviour at Norland was very wrong... but I convinced myself that you felt only friendship for me... and that it was my heart alone that I was risking.

I've come here with no expectations... only to profess now that I am liberty to do so... that my heart is...

and always will be...

yours.

He's sitting with her.

Come down.

Will you stop that? What else?

Tell us.

Wait. He's kneeling down.


Throw the coins. Throw the coins.