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 £ .


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 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.


Lizzie.


Are you all right?


I hardly know.