Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Pride & Prejudice (2005)



My dear Mr Bennet, have you heard?

Netherfield Park is let at last.

Do you not want to know who has taken it?

As you wish to tell me, my dear, I doubt I have any choice in the matter.

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

There's a Mr Bingley arrived from the North.

- Five thousand a year!

- Really?

- He's single!

- Who's single?

A Mr Bingley, apparently.


How can that possibly affect them?

Mr Bennet, how can you be so tiresome?

You know he must marry one of them.

That is his design in settling here?

You must go and visit him at once.

Good heavens.


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

- Are you listening?

You never listen.

- You must, Papa!

At once!

There's no need.

I already have.

- You have?

- When?

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

Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?

You mistake me, my dear.

I have the highest respect for them.

They've been my constant companions these twenty years.


- Is he amiable?

- Who?

- Is he handsome?

- He's sure to be.

With 5,000 a year, it would not matter if he had warts.

Who's got warts?

I will consent to his marrying whichever girl he chooses.

- So will he come to the ball tomorrow?

- I believe so.

- Mr Bennet!

- I have to have your muslin!

- I'll lend you my green slippers!

- They were mine.

- I'll do your mending for a week.

- I'll retrim your new bonnet.

Two weeks I'll do it for.

It's not the same!

It's not the same.

I can't breathe.

I think one of my toes just came off.

If every man does not end the evening in love with you, then I'm no judge of beauty.

- Or men.

- No, they are far too easy to judge.

They're not all bad.

Humourless poppycocks, in my limited experience.

One day, someone will catch your eye, and then you'll have to watch your tongue.

How good of you to come.

Which of the painted peacocks is our Mr Bingley?

He's on the right.

On the left is his sister.

- The person with the quizzical brow?

- That is his good friend, Mr Darcy.

- He looks miserable, poor soul.

- He may be, but poor he is not.

Tell me.

and he owns half of Derbyshire.

The miserable half.

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

Smile at Mr Bingley.



Mr Bingley, my eldest daughter you know.

Mrs Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet, Elizabeth and Miss Mary Bennet.

It is a pleasure.

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

I'm delighted to make your acquaintance.

And may I introduce Mr Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.

How do you like it here in Hertfordshire?

Very much.

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

It fills me with guilt.

I'm not a good reader.

I prefer being out of doors.

Oh, I mean, I can read, of course.

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

I wish I read more, but there seem to be so many other things to do.

That's exactly what I meant.

Mama, Mama!

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

- Tell me!

- She's going to take the veil.

- The regiment are coming!

- Officers?

They're going to be stationed the whole winter, right here.

- Officers?

- As far as the eye can see.

Oh, look.

Jane's dancing with Mr Bingley.

Mr Bennet.

- Do you dance, Mr Darcy?

- Not if I can help it.

I didn't know you were coming to see me.

What's the matter?

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

I've never seen so many pretty girls.

You were dancing with the only handsome girl.

She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld.

- But her sister Elizabeth is agreeable.

- Perfectly tolerable.

Not handsome enough to tempt me.

Return to your partner and enjoy her smiles.

You're wasting your time with me.

Count your blessings, Lizzie.

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


I wouldn't dance with him for all of Derbyshire, let alone the miserable half.


- I enjoyed that so much, Miss Lucas.

- How well you dance, Mr Bingley.

I've never enjoyed a dance so much.

My daughter Jane is a splendid dancer, is she not?

She is indeed.

Your friend Miss Lucas is a most amusing young woman.

Oh, yes, I adore her.

- It is a pity she's not more handsome.

- Mama!

Oh, but Lizzie would never admit that she's plain.

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

Mama, please!

When she was 15, a gentleman was so much in love with her, I was sure he would make her an offer.

However, he did write her some very pretty verses.

And that put paid to it.

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

- I thought poetry was the food of love.

- Of a fine, stout love.

But if it is only a vague inclination, one poor sonnet will kill it.

So, what do you recommend to encourage affection?


Even if one's partner is barely tolerable.

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

- Sensible, good-humoured...

- Handsome, conveniently rich...

Marriage should not be driven by thoughts of money.

Only deep love will persuade me to marry.

- Which is why I'll end up an old maid.

- Do you really believe he liked me?

He danced with you most of the night, and stared at you the rest.

I give you leave to like him.

You've liked many stupider.

You're a great deal too apt to like people in general.

All the world is good in your eyes.

Not his friend.

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

Mr Darcy?

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

But no matter.

I doubt we shall ever speak again.

He danced with Miss Lucas.

We were all there, dear.

It is a shame she's not more handsome.

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

The fourth with a Miss King of little standing, and the fifth again with Jane.

If he had any compassion, he would've sprained his ankle.

The way you carry on, you'd think our girls look forward to a grand inheritance.

When you die, which may be very soon, they will be left without a roof over their head nor a penny to their name.

- Please, it's ten in the morning.

- A letter to Miss Bennet, ma'am.

From Netherfield Hall.

Praise the Lord.

We are saved!

Make haste, Jane, make haste.

Oh, happy day!

It is from Caroline Bingley.

She has invited me to dine with her.

- Her brother will be dining out.

- Dining out?

- Can I take the carriage?

- Let me see.

- It is too far to walk.

- This is unaccountable of him.

Mama, the carriage for Jane?

Certainly not.

She'll go on horseback.



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

Good grief, woman, your skills in the art of matchmaking are positively occult.

Though I don't think, Mama, you can take credit for making it rain.

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

Excepting a sore throat, a fever and a headache, nothing is wrong with me." If Jane does die it will be a comfort to know it was in pursuit of Mr Bingley.

People do not die of colds.

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

I must go to Netherfield at once.

Lady Bathurst is redecorating her ballroom in the French style.

A little unpatriotic, don't you think?

Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Good Lord, did you walk here?

I did.

- I'm so sorry.

How is my sister?

- She's upstairs.

Thank you.

My goodness, did you see her hem?

Six inches deep in mud.

She looked positively mediaeval.

I feel such a terrible imposition.

They're being so kind to me.

I don't know who is more pleased at your being here, Mama or Mr Bingley.

Thank you for tending to my sister so diligently.

She's in far better comfort than at home.

It's a pleasure.

I mean, it's not a pleasure that she's ill.

Of course not.

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

Not going to be famous, our pig.

Black on the back, but not related to the learned pig of Norwich.

- Now that pig is...

- Mr Bennet.

It's all going to plan.

He's half in love with her already.

- Who is, blossom?

- Mr Bingley.

He doesn't mind that she hasn't a penny.

He has more than enough for the two of them.

- How will we meet them?

- Easy!

Wait for me!

You drop something.

They pick it up.

And then you're introduced.


You write uncommonly fast, Mr Darcy.

You're mistaken.

I write slowly.

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

Letters of business.

How odious I should think them.

It is fortunate, then, they fall to me and not you.

Tell your sister I long to see her.

- I've already told her once.

- I do dote on her.

I was quite in raptures at her beautiful design for a table.

Perhaps you will give me leave to defer your raptures.

I have not room enough to do them justice.

You young ladies are so accomplished.

- What do you mean?

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

I never heard of a lady, but people say she's accomplished.

The word is applied too liberally.

I do not know more than half a dozen women - that are truly accomplished.

- Nor I.

Goodness, you must comprehend a great deal in the idea.

- I do.

- Absolutely.

She must have a knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing and the modern languages to deserve the word.

And something in her air and manner of walking.

And she must improve her mind by extensive reading.

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

- I wonder at you knowing any.

- Are you so severe on your own s*x?

I never saw such a woman.

She would certainly be a fearsome thing to behold.

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

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

It is a small kind of accomplishment, I suppose.

Will you not join us, Mr Darcy?

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

What can he mean?

The surest way to disappoint him would be to ask him nothing.

Do tell us, Mr Darcy.

Either you are in each other's confidence and you have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage by walking.

If the first, I should get in your way.

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

How shall we punish him for such a speech?

- We could laugh at him.

- No.

Mr Darcy is not to be teased.

Are you too proud, Mr Darcy?

And would you consider pride a fault or a virtue?

- I couldn't say.

- We're trying to find a fault in you.

I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offences against me.

My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.

Oh, dear.

I cannot tease you about that.

What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.

A family trait, I think.

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

Are we to receive every Bennet in the country?

What an excellent room you have, sir.

Such expensive furnishings.

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

Absolutely, I find the country very diverting.

Don't you agree, Darcy?

I find it perfectly adequate.

Even if society is a little less varied than in town.

Less varied?

Not at all.

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

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

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

Mr Bingley, is it true you will hold a ball here?

A ball?

It would be an excellent way to meet new friends.

You could invite the militia.

- Oh, do hold a ball!

- Kitty!

When your sister recovers, you shall name the day.

I think a ball is an irrational way to gain new acquaintance.

It would be better if conversation, not dancing, were the order of the day.

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

Thank you, Mary.

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

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

- Mr Darcy.

- Miss Bennet.

- There she is.

- I don't know how to thank you.

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

Thank you for your stimulating company.

Most instructive.

Not at all.

The pleasure is all mine.

- Mr Darcy.

- Miss Elizabeth.

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

Ask Mrs Hill to order us a sirloin, Betsy.

Just the one, mind.

We're not made of money.

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

I've reason to expect an addition to our family party.

His name's Mr Collins, the dreaded cousin.

- Who is to inherit?

- Everything.

Even my piano stool belongs to Mr Collins.


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

The estate passes directly to him and not to us poor females.

Mr Collins, at your service.

What a superbly featured room and what excellent potatoes.

It's many years since I've had such an exemplary vegetable.

To which fair cousin should I compliment the excellence of the cooking?

We are perfectly able to keep a cook.


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

I'm honoured to have as my patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

You've heard of her, I presume?

My small rectory abuts her estate, Rosings Park, and she often condescends to drive by my humble dwelling in her little phaeton and ponies.

Does she have any family?

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

I've often observed to Lady Catherine that her daughter seemed born to be a duchess, for she has all the superior graces of elevated rank.

These kind of compliments are always acceptable to the ladies, and which I conceive myself particularly bound to pay.

How happy for you, Mr Collins, to possess the talent for flattering with such delicacy.

Do these attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment or are they the result of previous study?

They arise from what is passing at the time.

And though I do sometimes amuse myself with arranging such little compliments, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible.

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

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

I have with me Fordyce's Sermons which speak very eloquently on all matters moral.

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

Mrs Bennet, I have been bestowed by the good grace of Lady Catherine de Bourgh a parsonage of no mean size.

I have become aware of the fact.

It is my avowed hope that soon I may find a mistress for it.

And I have to inform you that the eldest Miss Bennet has captured my special attention.

Oh, Mr Collins.

Unfortunately, it is incumbent upon me to hint that the eldest Miss Bennet is very soon to be engaged.


But Miss Lizzie, next to her in age and beauty, would make anyone an excellent partner.

Do not you agree?

Mr Collins?



A very agreeable alternative.

Mr Collins is a man who makes you despair at the entire s*x.

- Yours, I believe.

- Oh, Mr Wickham, how perfect you are.

He picked up my handkerchief.

Did you drop yours on purpose?

Mr Wickham is a lieutenant.

- An enchanted lieutenant.

- What are you up to, Liddy?

- We happened to be looking for ribbon.

- White, for the ball.

Shall we all look for some ribbon together?

- Good afternoon, Mr James.

- Miss Lydia, Miss Bennet.

I shan't even browse.

I can't be trusted.

I have poor taste in ribbons.

Only a truly confident man would admit that.

No, it's true.

And buckles.

When it comes to buckles, I'm lost.

- You must be the shame of the regiment.

- The laughing stock.

What do your superiors do with you?

Ignore me.

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

- Lizzie, lend me some money.

- You already owe me a fortune.

- Allow me to oblige.

- No, Mr Wickham, please...

I insist.

- I pity the French.

- So do I.

- Look, Mr Bingley.

- Mr Bingley!

I was just on my way to your house.

How do you like my ribbons for your ball?

- Very beautiful.

- She is.

Look, she's blooming.

Oh, Lydia.

Be sure to invite Mr Wickham.

He is a credit to his profession.

You can't invite people to other people's balls.

Of course, you must come, Mr Wickham.

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

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


How long has Mr Darcy been a guest there?

About a month.

Forgive me, but are you acquainted with him, with Mr Darcy?

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

You may well be surprised, given our cold greeting this afternoon.

I hope your plans in favour of Meryton will not be affected - by your relations with the gentleman.

- It is not for me to be driven away.

If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go, not I.

I must ask, what is the manner of your disapproval of Mr Darcy?

My father managed his estate.

We grew up together, Darcy and I.

His father treated me like a second son, loved me like a son.

We were both with him the day he died.

With his last breath, his father bequeathed me the rectory in his estate.

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

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

- But why?

- Jealousy.

His father...

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

- How cruel.

- So now I'm a poor foot-soldier.

Too lowly even to be noticed.

- Breathe in!

- I can't anymore.

You're hurting.



- There must've been a misunderstanding.

- Jane, you never think ill of anybody.

How could Mr Darcy do such a thing?

I will discover the truth from Mr Bingley this evening.

Let Mr Darcy contradict it himself.

Till he does, I hope never to encounter him.

Poor, unfortunate, Mr Wickham.

Wickham is twice the man Darcy is.

And, let us hope, a rather more willing dancer.

There they are, look.

- Oh, yes.

- Billy.

Jane Martin is here.

May I say what an immense pleasure it is to see you again.

- Mrs Bennet.

- Miss Bingley.


I'm so pleased you're here.

So am I.

And how are you?

Miss Elizabeth?

Are you looking for someone?

No, not at all, I was just admiring the general splendour.

- It is breathtaking, Mr Bingley.

- Good.

You might have passed a few pleasantries with Mr Bingley.

I've never met a more pleasant gentleman in all my years.

Did you see how he dotes on her?

Dear Jane, always doing what's best for her family.

- Charlotte!

- Lizzie!

- Have you seen Mr Wickham?

- No.

Perhaps he's through here.

Lizzie, Mr Wickham is not here.

Apparently, he's been detained.

Detained where?

He must be here.

- There you are.

- Mr Collins.

Perhaps you will do me the honour, Miss Elizabeth.

Oh, I did not think you danced, Mr Collins.

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

Several people, her Ladyship included, have complimented me on my lightness of foot.

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

Dancing is of little consequence to me, but it does...

...but it does afford the opportunity to lavish...

...upon one's partner attentions...

- My informer tells me...

...that he would be less inclined to be engaged, were it not for...

...the presence of a certain gentleman.

Which is my primary object.

That gentleman barely warrants the name.

It is my intention, if I may be so bold, to remain close to you throughout the evening.

May I have the next dance, Miss Elizabeth?

You may.

- Did I agree to dance with Mr Darcy?

- I dare say you will find him amiable.

It would be most inconvenient since I've sworn to loathe him for all eternity.

- I love this dance.

- Indeed.

Most invigorating.

It is your turn to say something, Mr Darcy.

I talked about the dance.

Now you ought to remark on the size of the room or the number of couples.

I'm perfectly happy to oblige.

What would you like most to hear?

That reply will do for present.

Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones.

For now, we may remain silent.

Do you talk as a rule while dancing?


No, I prefer to be unsociable and taciturn.

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

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

Yes, we often walk to Meryton.

It's a great opportunity to meet new people.

When you met us, we'd just had the pleasure of forming a new acquaintance.

Mr Wickham's blessed with such happy manners, he's sure of making friends.

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

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

That is irreversible?

- It is.

Why do you ask such a question?

- To make out your character.

- What have you discovered?

- Very little.

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

I hope to afford you more clarity in the future.

- Is that Mr Darcy of Pemberley?

- I believe so.

I must make myself known to him.

He's a nephew of my patroness, Lady Catherine.

He will consider it an impertinence.

Mr Darcy.

Mr Darcy.

Mr Darcy.

Good evening...

What interesting relatives you have.

Mary, dear, you've delighted us long enough.

Let the other young ladies have a turn.

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

I have a beautiful grey.

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

Oh, yes.

We fully expect a most advantageous marriage.

And my Jane, marrying so grand, must throw her sisters in the way.

Clearly my family are seeing who can expose themselves to the most ridicule.

- At least Bingley has not noticed.

- No.

- I think he likes her very much.

- But does she like him?

Few of us are secure enough to be in love without proper encouragement.

Bingley likes her enormously, but might not do more if she does not help him on.

She's just shy.

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

We are all fools in love.

He does not know her character as we do.

She should move fast and snap him up.

There is plenty of time for us to get to know him afterwards.

I can't help feeling that someone's going to produce a piglet and make us chase it.

- Oh, dear!

- I do apologise, sir.

I'm awfully sorry.

Do forgive me.

Emily, please!

Mary, my dear Mary.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

- I've been practising all week.

- I know, my dear.

I hate balls.

Mr Bennet, wake up.

Oh, I've never had such a good time!

Charles, you cannot be serious.

We'll have a wedding here in less than three months if you ask me, Mr Bennet.

Mr Bennet!

Mary, please.

Thank you, Mr Hill.

Mrs Bennet, I was hoping, if it would not trouble you, that I might solicit a private audience with Miss Elizabeth.

Oh, certainly, Lizzie would be very happy indeed.

Everyone, out.

Mr Collins would like a private audience with your sister.

Wait, Mr Collins can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear.

I desire you will stay where you are.

Everyone else to the drawing room.

- Mr Bennet.

- But...


- Jane.

Jane, don't...


- Jane.

Papa, stay.

Dear Miss Elizabeth, My attentions have been too marked to be mistaken.

Almost as soon as I entered the house, I singled you out as the companion of my future life.

But before I am run away with my feelings, perhaps I may state my reasons for marrying.

Firstly, that it is the duty of a clergyman to set the example of matrimony in his parish.

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

And thirdly, that it is at the urging of my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine, that I select a wife.

My object in coming to Longbourn was to choose such a one from among Mr Bennet's daughters, for I am to inherit the estate and such an alliance will surely...

...suit everyone.

And now nothing remains but for me to assure you in the most animated language - of the violence of my affections.

- Mr Collins!

And no reproach on the subject of fortune - will cross my lips once we're married.

- You forget I have given no answer.

Lady Catherine will thoroughly approve when I speak to her of your modesty, economy and other amiable qualities.

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

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

Mr Collins, I am perfectly serious.

You could not make me happy.

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

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

Besides, despite manifold attractions, it is by no means certain another offer of marriage will ever be made to you.

I must conclude that you simply seek to increase my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females.

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

Please understand me, I cannot accept you.

Headstrong, foolish child.

Don't worry, Mr Collins.

We'll have this little hiccup dealt with immediately.



Mr Bennet, we're all in an uproar!

You must come and make Lizzie marry Mr Collins.

Mr Collins has proposed to Lizzie, but she vowed she will not have him, and now the danger is Mr Collins may not have Lizzie.

- What am I to do?

- Well, come and talk to her.


- Tell her you insist they marry.

- Papa, please.

You will have this house and save your sisters from destitution.

- I can't marry him.

- Go and say you've changed your mind.

- Think of your family.

- You cannot make me.

Mr Bennet, say something.

Your mother insists upon you marrying Mr Collins.

Yes, or I shall never see her again.

From this day onward, you must be a stranger to one of your parents.

Who will maintain you when your father is dead?

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

Thank you, Papa.

Ungrateful child!

I shall never speak to you again.

Not that I take much pleasure in talking.

People who suffer as I do from nervous complaints can have no pleasure in talking to anybody.


What's the matter?


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

Why does he not know when he'll return?

Read it.

"Mr Darcy is impatient to see his sister and we are scarcely less eager.

I do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance and accomplishment.

I hope to call her hereafter my sister." Is that not clear enough?

Caroline sees her brother in love with you and has taken him off to persuade him otherwise.

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

- It's more likely he does not love me.

- He loves you.

Do not give up.

Go to our aunt and uncle's in London, let it be known you are there and I am sure he will come to you.

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

Poor Jane.

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

It gives her something to think of and a sort of distinction amongst her companions.

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

- It's your turn now, Lizzie.

You've turned down Collins.

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

What about Mr Wickham?

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

- Father...

- And you have an affectionate mother who would make the most of it.

- Charlotte!

- My dear Lizzie.

I've come her to tell you the news.

Mr Collins and I are... engaged.

- Engaged?

- Yes.

- To be married?

- What other kind of engaged is there?

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

I should be as happy with him as any other.

- But he's ridiculous.

- Oh, hush.

Not all of us can afford to be romantic.

I've been offered a comfortable home and protection.

There's a lot to be thankful for.

I'm 27 years old.

I've no money and no prospects.

I'm already a burden to my parents.

And I'm frightened.

So dont judge me, Lizzie.

Don't you dare judge me.

Dear Charlotte, thank you for your letter.

I'm glad the house, furniture and roads are to your taste, and that Lady Catherine's behaviour is friendly and obliging.

What with your departure, Jane's to London and the militia to the North with the colourful Mr Wickham, I must confess, the view from where I sit has been rather grey.

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

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

Welcome to our humble abode.

My wife encourages me to spend time in the garden for my health.

I think our guest is tired after her journey.

I plan many improvements.

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

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

We shan't be disturbed here.

This parlour is for my own particular use.

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

- Charlotte, come here!

- What's happened?

Has the pig escaped again?

Oh, it's Lady Catherine.

Come and see, Lizzie.

Great news.

We received an invitation to Rosings from Lady Catherine.

How wonderful!

Do not make yourself uneasy about your apparel.

Just put on the best you've brought.

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

One of the most extraordinary sights in all of Europe.

The glazing alone costs upwards of 20,000.

Come along.

Come along.

A little later we'll play cards.

Your Ladyship.

Miss de Bourgh.

- So, you are Elizabeth Bennet?

- I am, your Ladyship.

This is my daughter.

- It's kind of you to ask us to dine.

- The rug alone cost upwards of 300.

Mr Darcy.

What are you doing here?

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

- Miss Elizabeth, I'm a guest here.

- You know my nephew?

I had the pleasure of meeting your nephew in Hertfordshire.

Colonel Fitzwilliam.

How do you do?

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


Over there.

Harvey, I wonder, could you get me the fish course...

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

They are, thank you.

My eldest sister is in London.

Perhaps you saw her there.

I haven't been fortunate enough...

Do you play the pianoforte, Miss Bennet?

- A little, ma'am, and very poorly.

- Do you draw?

No, not at all.

Your sisters, do they draw?

Not one.

That's very strange.

I suppose you had no opportunity.

Your mother should've taken you to town for the benefit of the masters.

My mother wouldn't have minded, but my father hates town.

- Has your governess left you?

- We never had a governess.

No governess?

Five daughters brought up at home without a governess?

I never heard such a thing.

Your mother must've been a slave to your education.

Not at all, Lady Catherine.

Your younger sisters, are they out in society?

- Yes, ma'am, all.

- All?

What, all five out at once?

That's very odd.

And you second.

The younger ones out before the elders are married?

Your youngest sisters must be very young.

Yes, my youngest is not 16.

But it would be hard on younger sisters not to have their amusement because the elder is still unmarried.

It would hardly encourage sisterly affection.

Upon my word, you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person.

Pray, what is your age?

With three younger sisters grown up, you can hardly expect me to own to it.

Come, Miss Bennet, and play for us.

- No, I beg you.

- For music is my delight.

In fact, there are few people in England who have more true enjoyment of music.

Or better natural taste.

If I had ever learnt, I should've been a great proficient.

So would Anne, if her health would've allowed her.

I'm not afflicted with false modesty, when I say I play poorly...

Come, Lizzie, her Ladyship demands it.

How does Georgiana get along, Darcy?

- She plays very well.

- I hope she practises.

No excellence can be acquired without constant practice.

I've told Mrs Collins this.

Though you have no instrument, you're welcome to come to Rosings and play on the pianoforte in the housekeeper's room.

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

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

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

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

What was my friend like in Hertfordshire?

You really care to know?

Prepare yourself for something very dreadful.

The first time I saw him, he danced with nobody, though gentlemen were scarce and there was more than one lady without a partner.

- I knew nobody beyond my own party.

- Nobody can be introduced at a ball.

Fitzwilliam, I need you.

I do not have the talent of conversing easily with people I have never met before.

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

Dear Jane...

Mr Darcy.

Please, do be seated.

Mr and Mrs Collins have gone to the village.

This is a charming house.

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

I believe so.

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

- Shall I call for some tea?

- No, thank you.

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

What on earth have you done to poor Mr Darcy?

I have no idea.

Every mind must have some counsellor to whom it may apply for consolation in distress.

There are many conveniences which others can supply and we cannot procure.

I have in view those objects which are only to be obtained through intercourse...

Forgive me, through the intercourse of friendship or civility.

On such occasions, the proud man steps forth to meet you not with cordiality, but with the suspicion of one who reconnoitres an enemy...

- How long do you plan to stay?

- As long as Darcy chooses.

- I am at his disposal.

- Everyone appears to be.

I wonder he does not marry and secure a lasting convenience of that kind.

- She would be a lucky woman.

- Really?

Darcy is a most loyal companion.

He recently came to the rescue of one of his friends.

What happened?

He saved him from an imprudent marriage.

Who's the man?

His closest friend, Charles Bingley.

Did Mr Darcy give a reason for this interference?

There were apparently strong objections to the lady.

What kind of objections?

Her lack of fortune?

I think it was her family that was considered unsuitable.

- So he separated them?

- I believe so.

I know nothing else.

Miss Elizabeth.

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

These past months have been a torment.

I came to Rosings only to see you.

I have fought against judgement, my family's expectation, the inferiority of your birth, my rank.

I will put them aside and ask you to end my agony.

- I don't understand.

- I love you.

Most ardently.

Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.

Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain.

It was unconsciously done.

- Is this your reply?

- Yes, sir.

- Are you laughing at me?

- No.

Are you rejecting me?

I'm sure the feelings which hindered your regard will help you overcome it.

Might I ask why with so little civility I am thus repulsed?

I might enquire why you told me you liked me against your better judgement?

If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse.

- But you know I have other reasons.

- What reasons?

Do you think anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined the happiness of a most beloved sister?

Do you deny that you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to censure for caprice and my sister to derision for disappointed hopes, involving them both in acute misery?

- I do not deny it.

- How could you do it?

I believed your sister indifferent to him.

I realised his attachment was deeper than hers.

She's shy!

Bingley was persuaded she didn't feel strongly.

- You suggested it.

- For his own good.

My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me.

I suppose his fortune had some bearing?

I wouldn't do your sister the dishonour.

- It was suggested...

- What was?

It was clear an advantageous marriage...

- Did my sister give that impression?

- No!

- No.

There was, however, your family...

- Our want of connection?

- No, it was more than that.

- How, sir?

The lack of propriety shown by your mother, younger sisters and your father.

Forgive me.

You and your sister I must exclude from this.

And what about Mr Wickham?

Mr Wickham?

What excuse can you give for your behaviour?

- You take an eager interest.

- He told me of his misfortunes.

- Oh, they have been great.

- You ruin his chances yet treat him with sarcasm.

So this is your opinion of me?

Thank you.

Perhaps these offences might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by my scruples about our relationship.

I am to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?

And those are the words of a gentleman.

Your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realise you were the last man in the world I could ever marry.

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

I came to leave you this.

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

But if I may, I will address the two offences you have laid against me.

My father loved Mr Wickham as a son.

He left him a generous living.

But upon my father's death, Mr Wickham announced he had no intention of taking orders.

He demanded the value of the living, which he'd gambled away within weeks.

He then wrote, demanding more money, which I refused.

After which, he severed all acquaintance.

He came back to see us last summer, and declared passionate love for my sister, whom he tried to persuade to elope with him.

She is to inherit 30,000.

When it was made clear he would never receive a penny of it, he disappeared.

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

She was 15 years old.

As to the other matter, of your sister and Mr Bingley, though the motives which governed me may appear insufficient, they were in the service of a friend.


Are you all right?

I hardly know.


How fortunate you have arrived.

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

- How is Jane?

- She's in the drawing room.

I'm quite over him.

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

London is so diverting.

It's true.

There's so much to entertain.

What news from Kent?


At least not much to entertain.

Lizzie, tell Mama!

Stop making such a fuss.

- Why didn't she ask me as well?

- Because I'm better company.

- What's the matter?

- I've just as much right.

Let's all go.

Lydia's been invited to Brighton with the Forsters.

Sea-bathing would set me up nicely.

I shall dine with the officers every night.

Papa, don't let her go.

Lydia will never be easy until she's exposed herself in some public place.

And we could never expect her to do it with so little inconvenience.

If you do not check her, she'll be fixed as the silliest flirt who ever made her family ridiculous.

And Kitty will follow, as always.

Lizzie, we shall have no peace until she goes.

Is that really all you care about?

Colonel Forster is a sensible man.

He will keep her out of any real mischief.

And she's too poor to be an object of prey to anyone.

It's dangerous.

I am certain the officers will find women better worth their while.

Let us hope, in fact, that her stay in Brighton will teach her her own insignificance.

At any rate, she can hardly grow any worse.

If she does, we'd be obliged to lock her up for the rest of her life.

Lizzie, you're welcome to accompany us.

The Peak District is not Brighton.

Officers are thin on the ground which may influence your decision.

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

The glories of nature.

What are men compared to rocks and mountains?

Men are either eaten up with arrogance or stupidity.

If they are amiable, they have no minds of their own.

Take care, my love.

That savours strongly of bitterness.

I saw Mr Darcy when I was at Rosings.

Why did you not tell me?

Did he mention Mr Bingley?


No, he did not.

Oh, what are men compared to rocks and mountains?

Or carriages that work?

Where exactly are we?

Quite close to Pemberley.

- Mr Darcy's home?

- That's the fellow.

Very well-stocked lake.

I've a hankering to see it.

Oh, no, let's not.

Well, he's so...

I'd rather not, he's so...

he's so...

- So what?

- So rich.

By heavens, Lizzie, what a snob you are!

Objecting to Mr Darcy because of his wealth.

The poor man can't help it.

He won't be there anyway.

These great men are never at home.

Keep up.

- Is your master much at home?

- Not as much as I would wish.

He dearly loves it here.

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

He's a lot like his father.

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

He just organised the servants for me.

This is he, Mr Darcy.

A handsome face.

Lizzie, is it a true likeness?

Does the young lady know Mr Darcy?

Only a little.

Do you not think him a handsome man, miss?


Yes, I dare say he is.

This is his sister, Miss Georgiana.

She sings and plays all day long.

Is she at home?

Miss Elizabeth.

- I thought you were in London.

- No.

No, I'm not.


- We would not have come...

- I came back a day early...

I'm with my aunt and uncle.

And are you having a pleasant trip?

Very pleasant.

- Tomorrow we go to Matlock.

- Tomorrow?

- Are you staying at Lambton?

- Yes, at the Rose and Crown.


I'm so sorry to intrude.

They said the house was open for visitors.

I had no idea.

- May I see you back to the village?

- No.

- I'm very fond of walking.

- Yes.

Yes, I know.

Goodbye, Mr Darcy.

This way, sir.

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

We've just met Mr Darcy.

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

He's asked us to dine with him tomorrow.

He was very civil, was he not?

- Very civil.

- Not at all how you'd painted him.

To dine with him?

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

You don't mind delaying our journey another day?

He particularly wants you to meet his sister.

His sister.

Miss Elizabeth!

My sister, Miss Georgiana.

My brother has told me so much about you, - I feel as if we are friends already.

- Thank you.

- What a beautiful pianoforte.

- My brother gave it to me.

- He shouldn't have.

- I should have.

- Very well then.

- Easily persuaded, is she not?

He once had to put up with my playing.

- He says you play so well.

- Then he has perjured himself.

- I said "quite well".

- "Quite well" is not "very well".

I'm satisfied.

- Mr Gardiner, are you fond of fishing?

- Very much.

Would you accompany me to the lake this afternoon?

Its occupants have been left in peace too long.

- I would be delighted.

- Do you play duets, Miss Elizabeth?

- Only when forced.

- Brother, you must force her.

Splendid fishing, good company.

What a capital fellow.

Thank you so much, Mr Darcy.

A letter for you, madam.

Oh, it's from Jane.

It is the most dreadful news.

Lydia has run away...

...with Mr Wickham.

They are gone to Lord knows where.

She has no money, no connections.

I fear she is lost forever.

This is my fault.

If only I had exposed Wickham when I should.

No, this is my fault.

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

Has anything been done to recover her?

My father has gone to London, but I know nothing can be done.

We have not the smallest hope.

Would I could help you.

Sir, I think it is too late.

This is grave indeed.

I will leave you.


We must go at once.

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

Why did the Forsters let her out of their sight?

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

- And now she is ruined.

- You are all ruined.

Who will take you now with a fallen sister?

Poor Mr Bennet will now have to fight the perfidious Wickham and then be killed.

He hasn't found him yet, Mama.

Mr Collins will turn us out before he is cold.

Do not be so alarmed.

Our uncle is in London helping in the search.

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

Such flutterings and spasms all over me!

My baby Lydia, my baby!

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

- You can't do that!

- Don't be such a baby.

- Kitty, give it to me.

- Who's it for?

It's addressed to Papa.

It's in Uncle's writing.

Papa, there's a letter.

- Let me catch my breath.

- It's in Uncle's writing.

- He's found them.

- Are they married?

- I can't make out his script.

- Give it to me.

Are they married?

They will be if Father settles 100 a year on her.

That is his condition.

- You will agree to this, Father?

- Of course.

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

What do you mean?

No man would marry Lydia under so slight a temptation as 100 a year.

Your uncle must've been very generous.

Do you think it a large sum?

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

- Heaven forbid!

- Father!

Lydia married and at 15 too!

Ring the bell, Kitty.

I must put on my things and tell Lady Lucas.

Oh, to see her face.

Tell the servants they will have a bowl of punch.

- We should thank our uncle.

- So he should help.

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

Daughter married!

Is that really all you think about?

When you have five daughters, tell me what else will occupy your thoughts.

Then perhaps you'll understand.

You don't know what he's like.

- Lydia!

- Oh, Mama!

We passed Sarah Sims in her carriage.

So I took off my glove so she might see the ring.

Then I bowed and smiled like anything...

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

You must all go to Brighton.

That is the place to get husbands.

I hope you have half my good luck.


I want to hear every little detail, Lydia, dear.

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

Glad to hear it.

Near Newcastle.

We travel there next week.

- Can I come and stay with you?

- That is out of the question.

Monday morning came and I was in such a fuss.

I don't want to hear.

There was my aunt preaching away as if reading a sermon.

- She was horrid unpleasant.

- Can't you understand why?

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

I longed to know if he'd be married in his bluecoat.

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

So I thought, who is to be our best man if he doesn't come back?

Lucky, he did, or I would've had to ask Mr Darcy.

- Mr Darcy!

- I forgot!

- But I shouldn't have said a word.

- Mr Darcy was at your wedding?

He was the one that discovered us.

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

But he told me not to tell.

- Mr Darcy?

- Stop it, Lizzie.

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

Kitty, have you seen my ring?

Write to me often, my dear.

Married women never have much time for writing.

I dare say you won't.

When I married your father, there didn't seem to be enough hours in the day.

My sisters may write to me, for they'll have nothing else to do.

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

One seems so forlorn without them.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye, Lydia.

Goodbye, Mr Wickham.

Bye, Kitty.

Bye, Papa.

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

Mrs Bennet.

Did you hear the news, madam?

Mr Bingley is returning to Netherfield.

Mrs Nichols is ordering a haunch of pork.

She expects him tomorrow.


Not that I care.

Mr Bingley's nothing to us.

I'm sure I never want to see him again, no.

We shan't mention a word about it.

Is it quite certain he's coming?

Yes, madam.

I believe he's alone.

His sister remains in town.

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

Come along, girls.

We better go home at once and tell Mr Bennet.

The impudence of the man.

I wonder he dare show his face.

It's all right, Lizzie.

I'm just glad he's alone because we shall see less of him.

Not that I'm afraid of myself.

But I dread other people's remarks.

Oh, I'm sorry.

He's here.

He's here.

He's at the door.

- Mr Bingley!

- Mr Bingley?

Oh, my goodness!

Everybody behave naturally.

And whatever you do, do not appear overbearing.

There's someone with him.

Mr Whatsisname, the pompous one.

Mr Darcy?

The insolence of it.

What does he think of, coming here?

Keep still, Jane.

Mary, put that away at once.

Find some useful employment.

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


- We can't have this here.

- Mary, the ribbons, the ribbons.

Mary, sit down at once.


Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley, ma'am.

How glad we are to see you, Mr Bingley.

There have been many changes since you went away.

Miss Lucas is married and settled.

And one of my own daughters too.

You will have seen it in the papers, though it was not put in as it ought to have been.

Very short.

Nothing about her family.

Yes, I did hear of it.

I offer my congratulations.

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

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

Will you stay long in the country?

Just a few weeks.

For the shooting.

When you've killed all your own birds, I beg you will come here and shoot as many as you please.

Mr Bennet will be vastly happy to oblige and will save the best coveys for you.


- Are you well, Mr Darcy?

- Quite well, thank you.

I hope the weather stays fine for your sport.

- I return to town tomorrow.

- So soon?

My Jane looks well, does she not?

She does indeed.

Well, we must be going, I think.


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

Miss Elizabeth.

Miss Bennet.

You must come again.

Last winter, you promised to have a family dinner with us.

I've not forgot, you see.

At least three courses.

Excuse me.

Most extraordinary.

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

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

It's been...

- Miss Bennet.

- Mr Bingley.

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

Yes, exactly.

I'm glad that's over.

Now we can meet as indifferent acquaintances.

Oh, yes.

You cannot think me so weak as to be in danger now.

You are in great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever.

- I'm sorry he came with Mr Darcy.

- Don't say that.

Why ever not?


- I've been so blind.

- What do you mean?

Look, it's him.

He's back.

He's come again.

I know this is all very untoward, but I would like to request the privilege of speaking to Miss Bennet.


Everybody to the kitchen immediately.

Except you, Jane, dear, of course.

Oh, Mr Bingley, it's so good to see you again so soon.

First, I must tell you I've been the most unmitigated and comprehensive ass.

Kitty, be quiet.


A thousand times yes.

Thank the Lord for that.

I thought it would never happen.

I am confident they will do well together.

Their tempers are much alike.

They will be cheated assiduously by their servants.

And be so generous with the rest, they will always exceed their income.

Exceed their income?

He has 5,000 a year.

I knew she did not be so beautiful for nothing.

"...must be free from all insincerity.

She only can address herself effectually to the feelings of others whose mind glows with the warmth of sensibility and whose arguments result from conviction.

She must feel the influence of those passions and emotions which she wishes to inspire..." Can you die of happiness?

He was ignorant of my being in town in the spring.

- How did he account for it?

- He thought me indifferent.

- Unfathomable.

- No doubt poisoned by his sister.


That's the most unforgiving speech you've ever made.

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

If there was such a man for you.

Perhaps Mr Collins has a cousin.

- What is that?

- What?

Maybe he's changed his mind.



Lady Catherine.

The rest of your offspring, I presume?

All but one.

The youngest has been lately married, your Ladyship.

My eldest was proposed to only this afternoon.

- You have a very small garden.

- Could I offer you a cup of tea?

Absolutely not.

I need to speak to Miss Elizabeth Bennet alone.

As a matter of urgency.

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

I cannot account for this honour at all.

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

A most alarming report has reached me.

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

I know this to be a falsehood.

Though not wishing to injure him by supposing it possible, I instantly set off to make my sentiments known.

If you believed it impossible, I wonder that you came so far.

To hear it contradicted.

Your coming will be a confirmation if such a report exists.


You pretend to be ignorant of it?

Has it not been industriously circulated by yourself?

I have never heard of it.

Can you declare there is no foundation for it?

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

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

Has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?

Your Ladyship has declared it to be impossible.

Mr Darcy is engaged to my daughter.

Now what have you to say?

If that is the case, you cannot suppose he would make an offer to me.

Selfish girl.

This union has been planned since their infancy.

Do you think it can be prevented by a woman of inferior birth whose own sister's elopement resulted in a scandalously patched-up marriage only achieved at the expense of your uncle.

Heaven and Earth!

Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?

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

I am not.

Will you promise never to enter into such an engagement?

I will not and I certainly never shall.

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

I must ask you to leave immediately.


I have never been thus treated in my entire life!

- What is going on?

- Just a small misunderstanding.

For once in your life, leave me alone!

- I couldn't sleep.

- Nor I.

My aunt...

Yes, she was here.

How can I ever make amends for such behaviour?

After what you've done for Lydia and, I suspect, for Jane, it is I who should be making amends.

You must know.

Surely you must know it was all for you.

You are too generous to trifle with me.

You spoke with my aunt last night and it has taught me to hope as I'd scarcely allowed myself before.

If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once.

My affections and wishes have not changed.

But one word from you will silence me for ever.

lf, however, your feelings have changed...

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

I love...

I love you.

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

Well, then.

Your hands are cold.

Shut the door, please.

Lizzie, are you out of your senses?

I thought you hated the man.

- No, Papa.

- He is rich, to be sure.

And you will have more fine carriages than Jane.

But will that make you happy?

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

None at all.

We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of fellow.

But this would be nothing if you liked him.

I do like him.

I love him.

He's not proud.

I was wrong.

I was entirely wrong about him.

You don't know him, Papa.

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

What has he done?

But she doesn't like him.

I thought she didn't like him.

So did I.

So did we all.

We must have been wrong.

- It won't be the first time, will it?

- No, nor the last, I dare say.

Good Lord.

- I must pay him back.

- No.

You mustn't tell anyone.

He wouldn't want it.

We misjudged him, Papa.

Me more than anyone.

In every way.

Not just in this matter.

I've been nonsensical.

But he's been a fool about Jane, about so many other things.

But then, so have I.

You see, he and I are...

He and I are so similar.

We're both so stubborn.

Papa, I...

You really do love him, don't you?

Very much.

I cannot believe that anyone can deserve you.

But it seems I am overruled.

So I heartily give my consent.

I could not have parted with you, my Lizzie, to anyone less worthy.

Thank you.

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

I'm quite at my leisure.