I hope, my dear, you have ordered a good dinner today,
because I have reason to expect an addition to our family party.
Mr Bingley!
Why, Jane, you sly thing, you never dropped a word!
And not a bit of fish to be got!
Lydia, my love, ring the bell. I must speak to Hill directly!
It is not Mr Bingley.
It is a person I never saw in the whole course of my life.
- Colonel Forster! - Captain Carter!
No, I know. Denny!
About a month ago I received this letter.
About a fortnight ago, I answered it,
for it was a case of some delicacy and requiring early attention.
It is from my cousin, Mr Collins,
who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.
Oh, my dear, pray don't mention that odious man!
I do think it is the hardest thing in the world,
that your estate should be entailed away from your poor children.
Indeed, my dear, nothing can clear Mr Collins
of the iniquitous crime of inheriting Longbourn,
but if you'll listen to his letter,
you may be softened by his manner of expressing himself.
"My dear sir,"
"the disagreement subsisting between yourself and my late honoured father"
"always gave me much uneasiness,"
"and since I have had the misfortune to lose him..."
"to lose him, I have frequently wished to heal the breach."
There, Mrs Bennet. "My mind, however, is now made up on the subject..."
For having received my ordination at Easter,
I've been so fortunate as to be distinguished
by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh,
whose bounty and beneficence
has preferred me to the valuable rectory at Hunsford,
where it's my easnest endeavour to demean myself
with grateful respect towards her Ladyship.
As a clergyman, moreover, I feel it my duty to promote and establish
the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence,
and on these grounds I flatter myself
that my present overtures of goodwill are highly commendable,
and will not lead you to reject the offered olive branch.
I am, sir, keenly conscious
of being the means of injuring your amiable daughters,
and assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends.
I propose myself the satisfaction
of waiting on you and your family on Monday the 18th...
Have a care, Dawkins!
...and shall probably trespass on your hospitality
till the Saturday sevenight following.
I shall travel as far as the turnpike in my own modest equipage,
where I hope to catch the Bromley Post at 35 minutes past ten,
and thence to Watford,
from whence I shall engage a hired carriage to Longbourn.
Where, God willing, you may expect me by four in the afternoon.
And here he comes.
He must be an oddity, don't you think?
If he's disposed to make our girls any amends,
I shan't be the person to discourage him.
- Can he be a sensible man, sir? - Oh, I think not, my dear.
Indeed, I have great hopes of finding him quite the reverse.
Mr Collins!
You are very welcome!
My dear Mr and Mrs Bennet!
You seem very...
fortunate in your patroness, sir.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Indeed I am, sir.
I have been treated with such affability, such condescension,
as I would never have dared to hope for.
I have been invited twice to dine at Rosings Park.
That so? Amazing.
Does she live near you, sir?
The garden, in which stands my humble abode,
is separated only by a lane from Rosings Park.
Only a lane, eh? Fancy that, Lizzy.
I think you said she was a widow, sir? Has she any family?
She has one daughter, ma'am.
The heiress of Rosings, and of very extensive property.
And has she been presented at court?
She is unfortunately of a sickly constitution,
which unhappily prevents her being in town.
And by that means, as I told Lady Catherine myself one day,
she has deprived the British Court of its brightest ornament.
You may imagine, sir, how happy I am
on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments,
which are always acceptable to ladies.
That is fortunate for you, Mr Collins,
that you possess such an extraordinary talent for flattering with delicacy.
May I ask whether these pleasing attentions
proceed from the impulse of the moment,
or are they the result of previous study?
They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, sir.
I do sometimes amuse myself by writing down
and arranging such little compliments
as may be adapted to ordinary occasions.
But I try to give them as unstudied an air as possible.
Excellent.
I must confess myself quite overwhelmed
with the charms of your daughters, Mrs Bennet.
Oh, you're very kind, sir. They are sweet girls, though I say it myself.
Perhaps especially the eldest Miss Bennet?
Ah, yes, Jane is admired wherever she goes.
But I think I should tell you, Mr Collins,
I think it very likely she will be very soon engaged.
- Ah. - As for my younger daughters,
now, if any of them... in their case
I know of no prior attachment at all.
Ah.
We are all going to Meryton, mamma, to see if Denny is returned from town!
Perhaps you would care for a little exercise, Mr Collins?
Indeed I would, Mrs Bennet.
Cousin Elizabeth!
Would you do me the great honour of walking with me into town?
You visit your Aunt Philips in Meryton frequently, I understand?
Yes, she is fond of company,
but you'll find her gatherings poor affairs
after the splendours of Rosings Park.
No, I think not. I believe I possess the happy knack,
much to be desired in a clergyman,
of adapting myself to every kind of society, whether high or low.
That is fortunate indeed.
Yes, indeed, and though it is a gift of nature,
constant study has enabled me, I flatter myself,
to make a kind of art of it.
There! I'm sure that's new in since Friday.
Isn't it nice? Don't you think I'd look well in it?
- Not as well as me. Come on! - No, I shan't.
Jane! Come here. Look at this!
Jane, I'm determined to have this bonnet!
Look, there's Denny!
- Where? - There. Look!
- Who's with him? - Don't know.
He's fearful handsome!
He might be if he were in regimentals.
A man looks nothing without regimentals!
They're looking over.
Lizzy, isn't he mightily good-looking?
- Denny! - Lydia!
What a fine joke! We thought you were still in town!
There was nothing amusing enough to hold us there.
Allow me to introduce my good friend? George Wickham.
Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet,
Miss Catherine Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet.
This is our cousin, Mr Collins.
Do you stay long in Meryton, Mr Wickham?
All winter, I'm happy to say.
I've taken a commission in Colonel Forster's regiment.
There, Lydia! He will be dressed in regimentals.
And lend them much distinction, I dare say.
Outswagger us all, eh, Wickham?
You misrepresent me to these young ladies.
Shall you come with us to Aunt Philips tonight?
Denny is coming, you know!
It's only supper and cards, but we shall have some laughs.
Well, I am afraid, I haven't been invited by Mr and Mrs Philips.
No one cares about that nowadays!
If Mrs Philips extended the invitation to include me, I should be delighted.
Look, Jane. It's Mr Bingley!
How very fortunate!
We were just on our way to Longbourn to ask after your health.
You're very kind, sir. I'm quite recovered, as you see.
Yes? I'm very glad to know it.
I was hoping you might come to have tea with us.
I shall be very happy to, Miss Bennet.
- Look, there's Denny! - And Chamberlayne.
...Such a variety of social intercourse.
What a charming apartment you have here, Mrs Philips.
Upon my word, it reminds me greatly
of the small summer breakfast room at Rosings!
Does it indeed, sir? I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure.
I'm sure Mr Collins wishes to pay a compliment, Aunt.
Does he? I see.
Rosings Park, we must understand, is very grand indeed.
Indeed it is!
My dear Madam, if you thought I intended any slight
on your excellent and very comfortable arrangements, I am mortified!
Rosings Park is the residence of my noble patroness,
Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Oh, now I understand.
The chimney piece in the second drawing room alone cost 800 pounds!
Now I see, it's clear there's no offence at all.
Will you oblige me and sit down to a game of whist?
I must confess I know little of the game, madam,
but I shall be glad to improve myself.
If my fair cousin will consent to release me?
With all my heart, sir.
Oh, Mr Collins!
- What were trumps again? - Hearts, Mr Collins! Hearts.
I must confess I thought I'd never escape your younger sisters.
They can be very determined. Lydia especially.
But they're pleasant girls.
Indeed,
I find that society in Hertfordshire quite exceeds my expectations.
I don't see Mr Bingley and his friends here this evening.
I think some of Mr Bingley's friends would consider it beneath their dignity.
Really?
Have you known Mr Darcy long?
- About a month. - I've known him all my life.
- We played together as children. - But...
Yes, you're surprised.
Perhaps you noticed the cold manner of our greeting?
I confess I did.
Do you...
Are you much acquainted with Mr Darcy?
As much as I ever wish to be.
I've spent three days in the same house with him,
and I find him very disagreeable.
I fear there are few who would share that opinion... except myself.
But he's not at all liked in Hertfordshire.
Everybody is disgusted with his pride.
Do you know...
Does he intend to stay long at Netherfield?
I do not know.
I hope his being in the neighbourhood will not affect your plans to stay.
Thank you. But it is not for me to be driven away by Mr Darcy.
If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go.
We are not on friendly terms,
but I have no reason to avoid him but one: he's done me great wrong.
His father, Miss Bennet, the late Mr Darcy, was my Godfather,
and one of the best men that ever breathed.
My father was his steward,
and when he died, old Mr Darcy cared for me,
provided for me, loved me, I believe,
as though I were his own son. He intended me for the church.
And it was my dearest wish to enter into that profession.
But after he died, and the living he'd promised me fell vacant,
the son refused point blank to honour his father's promises.
And so, you see, I have to make my own way in the world.
This is quite shocking!
I had not thought Mr Darcy as bad as this.
To descend to such malicious revenge - he deserves to be publicly disgraced!
Some day he will be, but not by me.
Till I can forget his father, I can't defy or expose him.
I wonder at the pride of this man. How abominable!
You're more temperate than I'd be in your situation.
Well, I have not the resentful temper that some men have.
And my situation, you know, is not so bad.
At present I have every cause for cheer! I can't bear to be idle,
and my new profession gives me active employment.
My fellow officers are excellent men.
And now I find myself in a society as agreeable as any I've ever known.
You see, I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me!
Lizzy? Lizzy, why should you feel sorry for Mr Wickham?
Why? Because...
Because I've not had a dance these three months together!
Poor Mr Wickham! Well, you shall have one now.
Mary, Mary! The Barley Mow!
Oh, Mr Collins!
I cannot believe it, Lizzy!
Mr Darcy wouldn't have far too high a respect for his father’s wishes
to behave in such an unchristian way.
And Lizzy, consider, how could his most intimate friends be so deceived in him?
I could more easily imagine Mr Bingley being imposed upon,
than to think that Mr Wickham could invent such a history!
I believe you like Mr Wickham, Lizzy.
I confess I do like him.
I do not see how anyone could not like him.
There's something very open and artless in his manner.
He feels deeply, I believe,
and yet has a natural merriment and energy, despite all this.
Yes, Jane, I confess I like him very much.
But after so short an acquaintance,
do you think we should believe in him so implicitly?
How could he be doubted?
He gave me all the circumstances, Jane. Names, facts.
And everything without ceremony.
If it is not so, let Mr Darcy contradict it!
Besides, there was truth in all his looks.
It is difficult, indeed.
It is distressing. One does not know what to think.
I beg your pardon, one knows exactly what to think!
Oh, girls! Girls, we have all been invited to a ball at Netherfield!
- Oh, good! I love a ball! - So do I!
All this will be a compliment to you, Jane, you know.
The invitation includes you, Mr Collins.
But shall you accept, sir?
Would it be entirely proper? Would your bishop approve?
Your scruples do you credit, my dear cousin.
I am of the opinion that a ball of this kind,
given by a man of good character to respectable people,
can have no evil tendency.
And I am so far from objecting to dancing myself,
that I shall hope to be honoured
with the hands of all my fair cousins during the evening!
And I take this opportunity of soliciting yours... Miss Elizabeth,
for the first two dances!
I dare say you'll be able to imagine the scope of the whole, Mr Wickham,
when I tell you that the chimney piece alone,
in the second drawing room, cost all of 800 pounds!
800 pounds, sir! I hazard a guess it must be a very large one?
It is very large, indeed, sir.
Her Ladyship is fond of a good blaze, then?
Oh...
Mr Collins!
How fortunate! I must claim you for my sister Mary.
She's found a passage in Fordyce's Sermons that she can't make out at all.
Well, I...
I believe it is of great doctrinal import, sir.
- In that case... - You're very kind, sir.
She's in the drawing room.
Mr Collins' conversation is very...
wholesome.
And there is plenty to be had of it, I assure you!
Have you made Mr Bingley's acquaintance yet?
No.
But I'm already disposed to approve of him.
He has issued a general invitation to the officers for his ball at Netherfield,
which has caused great joy in more than one quarter.
- He must be a very amiable gentleman. - Oh, yes.
He is eager to approve of everyone he meets,
but he's a sensible man, with taste and judgement.
I wonder very much how Mr Darcy could impose upon him.
He cannot know what Mr Darcy is.
Probably not.
Mr Darcy can please what he chooses, if he thinks it worth his while.
Among his equals in wealth and consequence,
he can be liberal-minded,
honourable, even agreeable.
I wonder you can speak of him so tolerantly.
He is not wholly bad.
Tell me, what sort of girl is Miss Darcy?
I wish I could call her amiable.
As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and fond of me.
I've devoted hours to her amusement,
but she is grown too much like her brother.
Very... very proud. I never see her now.
Since her father's death, her home has been in London.
She is but 16 years old. Your sister Lydia's age.
Lydia is 15.
I was amused by your cousin's reference to Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
She's Mr Darcy's aunt, and her daughter Anne, you know,
who will inherit a large fortune, is destined to be Mr Darcy's bride.
Really?!
Poor Miss Bingley.
Ah, you look very well, Lizzy!
You'll never be as pretty as your sister Jane,
but I will say you look very well indeed!
Thank you, mamma.
I hope you will pay Mr Collins every courtesy tonight,
because he's been very attentive to you!
Your gown is very unbecoming, too!
Then I shall ask Lizzy! She will bear me out!
Lydia, child, what are you doing?
Go back in your room and dress yourself!
I have to ask Lizzy something!
Lizzy, look. What do you think?
Kitty says not, but I think it becomes me very well.
- I wonder that you ask me then. - You look very nice.
Thank you.
Lizzy, I hope you wouldn't keep Wickham to yourself all night.
Kitty and I want to dance with him as well, you know.
I promise I shall not. Even if I wished to, I could not.
I have to dance at least the first two with Mr Collins.
Lord, yes. He's threatened to dance with us all!
My dear Jane, how delightful to see you, and so well recovered!
Louisa and I have been quite desolate without you, haven't we?
- Mr Hurst? - What?
- Oh, Mrs Bennet! - Delighted.
Mr Bennet.
Mrs Bennet, Mr Bennet! Quite delighted.
- And all your daughters. - There's Denny!
- And Chamberlayne! - And my cousin Mr Collins.
May I congratulate you on your very elegant arrangements, ma'am?
It puts me to mind greatly of...
Perhaps you may have visited Rosings Park?
Miss Bennet.
Miss Bennet. You look quite remarkably well this evening.
Thank you.
I'm instructed to convey my friend Wickham's most particular regrets
that he's been prevented from attending the ball.
He's gone to town on a matter of an urgent business.
Though I don’t imagine it would have been so urgent
if he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman.
Denny! I hope you're prepared to dance with us tonight!
Forgive the intrusion.
I would dance with both of your sisters at once if I could, but as it is...
Never mind that. Come on, Denny!
Charlotte!
I have so much to acquaint you with!
Charlotte, may I present our cousin, Mr Collins? My friend, Miss Lucas.
- How do you do, sir? - Miss Lucas.
I'm indeed honoured to meet any friend of my fair cousins.
So many agreeable young ladies!
I'm quite enraptured!
- Other way, Mr Collins! - Madam, a thousand apologies...
My dear cousin, I apologize.
It's extraordinary! And are you sure it's true?
Charlotte, how could it be otherwise?
Every circumstance confirms it.
And Mr Darcy has boasted to me himself of his resentful, implacable…
- Lizzy! - What?
If you're not otherwise engaged,
would you do me the honour of dancing the next with me, Miss Bennet?
Why I... had not...
I thank you. Yes.
Why couldn't I think of an excuse? Hateful man!
I promised myself I'd never dance with him.
He pays you a great compliment in singling you out, Lizzy.
Think what you are doing.
You'd be a simpleton indeed if you let your fancy for Wickham
lead you to slight a man of ten times his consequence.
I believe we must have some conversation, Mr Darcy.
A very little will suffice.
You should say something about the dance, perhaps.
I might remark on the number of couples.
Do you talk by rule, then, when you're dancing?
Sometimes it's best.
Then we may enjoy the advantage of saying as little as possible.
Do you consult your own feelings in this case, or seek to gratify mine?
Both, I imagine.
We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak,
unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room.
This is no striking resemblance of your own character, I'm sure.
- Do you often walk into Meryton? - Yes, quite often.
When you met us there the other day,
we had just been forming a new acquaintance.
Mr Wickham has the happy manners that enable him to make friends.
Whether he is equally capable of keeping them, is less certain.
He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship
in a way which he is likely to suffer from all his life.
Allow me to congratulate you, sir!
Such superior dancing is rarely to be seen.
I'm sure you will own your fair partner is well worthy of you.
I hope this pleasure is repeated often,
especially when a certain desirable event takes place.
Eh, Miss Lizzy?
What congratulations will then flow in!
Sir, I don't...
Nay, I understand!
I'll not detain you longer from your bewitching partner, sir!
A great pleasure, sir. Capital! Capital!
I remember hearing you once say that you hardly ever forgave.
That your resentment once created was implacable.
You're very careful, aren't you, in allowing resentment to be created?
I am.
And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?
I hope not.
May I ask to what these questions tend?
Merely to the illustration of your character. I'm trying to make it out.
- What is your success? - I don't get on at all.
I hear such different accounts of you as to puzzle me exceedingly.
I wish that you wouldn't attempt to sketch my character at the present moment.
I fear the performance should reflect no credit on either of us.
But if I don't take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity!
I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.
So, Miss Eliza, I hear you're quite delighted with George Wickham.
No doubt he forgot to tell you, among his other communications,
that he was merely the son of old Wickham,
the late Mr Darcy's steward!
But, Eliza, as a friend,
let me recommend you not to give credit to all his assertions.
Wickham treated Darcy in an infamous manner.
Has he? How?
I don't remember the particulars,
but I do know that Mr Darcy was not in the least to blame.
I pity you, Eliza, for the discovery of your favourite's guilt,
but really, considering his descent, one could not expect much better.
His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same.
You accuse him only of being the son of Mr Darcy's steward,
which he informed me of himself.
I beg your pardon.
Excuse my interference. It was kindly meant.
- Insolent girl! - Lizzy!
I see nothing in her paltry attack
but her own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr Darcy!
Yes, but Lizzy...
Mr Bingley said, that though he doesn't know the whole history,
he fears that Mr Wickham is by no means a respectable young man.
- Does he know Mr Wickham? - No, not at all.
Well, then he just had his account from Mr Darcy.
I have not the least doubt of Mr Bingley's sincerity.
Of course he would believe his friend, and it does him credit.
As to the other two gentlemen,
I shall venture to think of them both as I did before.
Shall we not have some music? I have a great desire for a song!
Caroline, can we persuade you?
Miss Mary Bennet.
I see you've anticipated me.
# Slumber, dear maid
# Green bows will cover thee
# Cometh breathe over thee
# Where thou art laid
# Slumber, dear maid...
Lizzy! Look.
But they haven't been introduced!
- Can we not prevent him? - Too late.
Mr Darcy. I have made a remarkable... I must say, an amazing discovery!
I understand that you are the nephew
of Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park!
Well, Mr Darcy, I am on the happy position of being able to inform you,
that her Ladyship was in the best of health...
eight days ago.
I'm glad to hear it.
- And what is your name, sir? - My name is William Collins, Mr Darcy.
And I have a very great honour to...
Well. Well.
# Green bows will cover thee
# Cometh breathe over thee
Rowley!
# Where thou art laid
# My Mother bids me bind my hair
# With bands of rosy hue
That'll do extremely well, child. You've delighted us long enough.
Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit.
If I were so fortunate as to be able to sing,
I should have great pleasure I'm sure in obliging the company with an air.
Indeed I should, for I consider music as a very innocent diversion,
and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman!
Mr Collins is such a sensible, respectable young man.
He's taken quite a fancy to Lizzy,
and I don't think he could find a better wife.
He favoured Jane at first, but Bingley was there before him.
Now there will be a great marriage!
And, of course, that will throw the girls into the path of other rich men!
Lydia!
Lord! Denny, fetch me a glass of wine. I can scarce draw breath, I'm so fagged!
And Chamberlayne and Denny again!
Lydia only danced with him twice!
- I thought Mary sang very ill. - Oh, yes. Poor Mary.
- But she is determined to do it. - More fool her, I say.
Mr Collins trod on my frock and tore it, you know.
Lizzy, my dear!
No, Mr Collins, I'm sure there can be no objection!
Kitty, don't leave me.
Lizzy, dear!
What's the matter? It's only Mr Collins.
Come, Kitty. I want you upstairs.
Mr Collins has something to say to Lizzy!
Dear mamma, don't go. Mr Collins must execuse me.
He can have nothing to say that anyone could not hear.
Lizzy. I insist that you stay where you are and hear Mr Collins!
Come, Kitty! Come along.
Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth,
that your modesty adds to your other perfections.
But you can hardly doubt the object of my discourse,
however your feminine delicacy may lead you to dissemble.
For, as 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 by my feelings on this subject,
perhaps it would be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying.
Mr Collins...
My reasons for marrying are:
First, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman
to set the example of matrimony in his parish.
Secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness.
And thirdly, which perhaps I should have mentioned first,
that it is the particular recommendation
of my noble patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh!
"Mr Collins," she said, "you must marry."
"Choose properly," she said. "Choose a gentlewoman for my sake,"
"and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person,"
"not brought up too high."
"Find such a woman as soon as you can,"
"bring her to Hunsford, and I will visit her!"
And your wit and vivacity,
I think, must be acceptable to her,
when tempered with the silence and respect
which her rank will inevitably excite.
Yes.
So much for my general intention in favour of matrimony.
Now, as to my particular choice:
My dear cousin,
being, as I am, to inherit all this estate after the death of your father,
I could not satisfy myself
without resolving to choose a wife from among his daughters.
And now... nothing remains,
but to assure you, in the most animated language,
of the violence of my affections!
- Mr Collins, please... - To fortune I am perfectly indifferent.
I'm well aware that 1,000 pounds in the four per cents
is all that you may be entitled to,
but rest assured, I shall never reproach on that score when we are married!
You are too hasty, sir!
You forget that I've made no answer. Let me do so now.
I thank you for your compliments.
I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but...
it is impossible for me to accept them.
I am by no means discouraged. Indeed not.
I understand that is usual with young ladies
to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept,
when he first applies for their favour,
and therefore I shall hope, my dear cousin,
to lead you to the altar before long.
Upon my word, your hope is an extraordinary one
in view of my declaration.
I was perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy,
and I am convinced I am the last woman in the world who could make you so.
My dear Miss Elizabeth,
my situation in life, my connection with the noble family of de Bourgh,
are circumstances highly in my favour.
You should consider that it is by no means certain
that another offer of marriage may ever be made to you.
You cannot be serious in your rejection.
I must attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense,
in the usual manner of elegant females.
I assure you, sir,
that I have no pretensions to the kind of elegance
which consists in tormenting a respectable man.
I thank you for the honour of your proposals,
but to accept them is absolutely impossible.
My feelings forbid it in every respect.
- Can I speak plainer? - You are uniformly charming!
And I am persuaded that when sanctioned by your excellent parents...
my proposals will not fail of being acceptable.
Oh, Mr Bennet! You are wanted immediately.
We are all in uproar!
You must come and make Lizzy marry Mr Collins.
She vows she won't have him, and if you don't make haste,
Mr Collins will change his mind and won't have her!
I have not the pleasure of understanding you. Of what are you talking?
Of Mr Collins and Lizzy!
Lizzy declares she will not have Mr Collins,
and Mr Collins begins to say he will not have Lizzy!
What am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business.
Speak to Lizzy about it yourself!
Tell her you insist upon her marrying him!
Let her come in.
Lizzy! Lizzy!
Your father wishes to speak to you.
Come here, my child.
I understand Mr Collins has made you an offer of marriage.
- Is this true? - Yes, sir.
Very well. And this offer of marriage you have refused?
- I have. - I see.
Right, we now come to the point.
Your mother insists on your accepting it.
- Is it not so, Mrs Bennet? - Yes, or I will never see her again!
An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth.
From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents.
Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr Collins.
And...
I will never see you again if you do.
Oh, Mr Bennet!
Sit down, Miss Lizzy! I insist upon you marrying Mr Collins!
- Why, Charlotte, what do you do here? - I am come to see Elizabeth.
Mr Collins has made Lizzy an offer, and what do you think?
She won't have him!
Then I am very sorry for him, though I couldn't say I'm surprised.
If you don't, Miss Lizzy, I will never speak to you again!
- I won't discuss the matter any longer. - Mr Collins! Mr Collins, wait!
Mamma's beside herself. He says he won't stay another night.
I wonder, should I invite him to dine with us this evening?
Aye, do! Do! Take him away and feed him.
For he's been in high dudgeon all morning!
- Oh, Mr Collins! - I am resigned.
Resignation is never so perfect,
as when the blessing denied begins to lose
somewhat of its value in our estimation.
Until tomorrow then, madam.
I take my leave.
Oh, Mr Collins!