Lost in Austen (2008): Season 1, Episode 4 - Episode #1.4 - full transcript

The uproar in Pemberley is increased with the announcement of Darcy's engagement to Caroline Bingley. At the same time the news that Lydia has gone off with Bingley causes distress in the Bennet family. After Amanda's fervent words, Mr Bennet feels obliged to duel Bingley and is hurt in the event of it. In an effort to get help and find Elizabeth, Amanda unexpectedly returns to her twenty-first century. Darcy, on following Amanda into the present-day London, feels at a lost and face to face with his alleged wife-to-be. Elizabet now works as a nanny is quite familiar with the technological inventions of our time and even the Mr Darcy-Colin Firth phenomenon - and thus realizes that she has just met her intended husband-to-be. Elizabeth is informed of her father's injury and with Amanda and Darcy she sets of to Georgian England to enter the Bennet home once again.

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So, I've ruined everything with Darcy

and I have absolutely nowhere to go.

But that's all right. The worst
that can happen is that I just... die.

The worst is
I never see Darcy again... ever.

Happy face.

Happy face.

Why does Sweller-endo summon his guests?

Do we know?

Oh.

Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen,

'tis a poor host who neglects to keep
his guests abreast of local news.



I have asked Miss Bingley to be my wife
and she has consented to the task.

Thank you for your attention.
Dinner is at six.

You must come.

Come.

May I be the first to congratulate.

- She's gone where?
- It does not say. It says with whom.

Lydia doesn't run off with Bingley!
She goes with Wickham.

"Charles and I are afflicted
by the same ennui.

"Society bores us. Our conversations
with Miss Price have persuaded us..."

- Oh, no.
- Oh, yes, Miss Price!

".. have persuaded us
that more inspiriting company

"is to be found elsewhere."

- Silly girl.
- How dare you?

How dare you sneer at my daughters



when it is you,
you who has infected their minds!

With what, Mrs Bennet?
what have I said...

- That you would marry Mr Darcy!
- Mamma, Mr Bingley is a gentleman.

If he has gone away with Lydia,
it can only mean one thing.

He intends to make her his wife.

An elopement!

Well...

Mrs Lydia Bingley...

She has no hat fit for town.

Oh! I must return
to Longbourn immediately.

Shoes! Shoes!

What shoes does she have?

Oh! Mr Bennet shall feel
the weight of this excite!

- She cannot be allowed to believe that.
- She can till she is delivered home.

Then my father shall have charge of it.

'Tis time he rose from his chair
for the good of the family.

I urged Bingley to love another.

That he should choose my little sister
did not occur to me.

In unguarded moments, you are given
to the queerest ejaculations.

- Uh?
- You protest things should be other.

Lizzy should be here for Darcy,
Lydia should be with Wickham...

She should marry Wickham, ultimately.

Good Lord.

I should now be married to Bingley.

Yes.

I consider our lives
and I find I prefer your version.

- will you escort my mother home?
- I thought you would want to.

Mr Collins does not care for me
to be apart from him.

Longbourn is no longer my home,
Miss Price.

I am no longer my mother's child.

I am my husband's wife.

Mrs Bennet is indisposed?

She is excited by the prospect
of a double marriage.

- Mr Bingley and Lydia.
- I think that unlikely.

Me too. Let's hope we're both wrong
because he's run off with her.

What?

Why do you suppose
Bingley has done this?

Any ideas? Any little twinges of guilt
about this situation?

No. You don't really do guilt, do you?

You do whatever the hell you want
and afterwards call it principle.

- Bye, then.
- Do you have the grace to wish me well?

- Good luck.
- That I already have.

Clearly. You and Caroline
are made for each other.

(Mrs Bennet) lf Mr Bennet is in the garden,
I shall pursue him like a harpy.

- Hanom. Hanom!
- whoa!

I shall press the door myself.

Oh, Mr Bennet!

- The most extraordinary thing...
- However extraordinary, madam,

it cannot match the adventure
that awaits you in your drawing room.

Lady Catherine sends us gifts.

Gentlemen!

Allow me to introduce you to Mrs Bennet.

Mr Probity Collins, currently resting
after his exertions at the dining table.

Dr Elysium Collins, favouring us
with a tobacco mix of his own devising.

And Mr Cymbal Collins,
enlivening a dull Tuesday evening

with his amusing trousers.

I trust, madam,
you shall come to call me "Tinkler".

Mrs Bennet
will dedicate herself to that end.

Ah! Oh, I'm delighted to find
Miss Amanda Price of Hammersmith.

I cannot yet hear Lydia,
which is unusual, but nevertheless...

She is to be married!

Mr Bennet, that is what I tried to say.

Married, madam? Anyone we know?

Mr Charles Bingley.

This is extraordinary.

Mr Bennet, might we speak a moment,
with Mrs Bennet?

It's so off-piste, it is just insane.

Lydia is to be married?

Goodness. It seems barely plausible that
she is old enough to cut a slice of cake,

Iet alone keep a husband.

Where is this marriage to be?
I suppose I am obliged to attend.

Mr Bennet, may I speak frankly?
I think Mrs Bennet may be mistaken.

- what?
- Let him read the letter. Please.

Poor old Tinkler.

He will not want her after this.

You are of the opinion

that Mr Bingley means
to despoil Lydia and not marry her?

I am of that opinion, madam, yes.

The girl has thrown herself away,
my dear. It is a shame.

But her dissent cannot be arrested

by intemperate demonstrations
of contrition in my library.

Mr Bennet, you can't just... read a book.

- You must do something.
- what do you recommend, Miss Price?

I don't know, but...

You're her father! I'm not suggesting
you challenge Bingley to a duel,

which is the thing in the novel
your wife dreads, but you must try

to stop Lydia just flinging
her maidenhood out the window.

Lydia writes of a place unfettered
by convention. will you take me there?

Hammersmith, Miss Price.

It is time we visited your house.

- Where are we?
- Hammersmith, Miss Price.

This is where you live.

Mr and Mrs Bennet,
I think the time has probably come...

There you are!

Welcome, all. How was the road?

Mr Wickham. How unexpected.

Is it?

Did Miss Price not tell you she asked me
to ride ahead to make arrangements?

I quite forgot.

Sir Reginald and Lady Nora
are safely on their way to Bath.

Uh... Good.

Who, pray, is Sir Reginald?

Miss Price's father, Mrs Bennet.

The house, alas, is quite locked up.

The servants insist on travelling
with Sir Reginald and Lady Nora

which is inconvenient,
of course, but most devoted.

Lady Nora?

A good name for the wife
of a successful fishmonger.

What are you doing here?
what's the point in helping me?

Because your face
is most amusing when surprised.

I do as you do.
I have to see Bingley.

- Where is Lizzy?
- At Bath.

When Mamma and Papa go on their
expeditions they take their guests.

Mr Wickham, I speak to you
as one gentleman to another

with the expectation of discretion
that entails.

I understand, sir. whatever you confide
shall die inside me.

My youngest daughter Lydia
has run away with Charles Bingley.

I do not know how to proceed.

I cannot think how to find my daughter.

Surely they have gone to The Jerusalem.

That is the inn of note here,
is it not, Miss Price?

If they have come here, we must
go immediately to prevent wrongdoing.

Mr Bennet, sir,
permit me to be your guide.

Oh, Mr Wickham!
How fortunate we are to find you here.

Hear that sound, George?

That's Jane Austen spinning in her grave
like a cat in a tumble dryer.

My child! Oh, my child!

Oh, excellent.

Look at this.
You find me making a spear.

Rousseau, you know.

Noble savage, so forth.
The book you lent me.

Why does my daughter weep,
Mr Bingley?

Fundamental skills
we have forfeited through privilege.

I expect it's because she's bored.

Bored?

Our social experiment has proved
dispiritingly unchallenging.

Hammersmith is not the Amazon.

You brought my daughter here alone?

To spend the night with you alone?
Tell me, what species of experiment is that?

Ah, well met. Bingley, Miss Lydia and I
have just now returned from the opera...

- Darcy...
- And the problem with the opera is...

Sir, will you have done?

Your subterfuge is well meaning,
but it is puerile and demeans us all.

There is no opera in Hammersmith.
You've just arrived, that much is plain.

Miss Lydia and I came yesterday and
have spent our hours philosophising.

Huh.

Her father thinks we've been making
the beast with two backs.

Time to take the weapons from the wall,
Mr Bingley.

Pick up your damn spear and take guard!

- Oh, Mr Bennet!
- Take up your stick, damn you!

You drivelling, anorchus imbecile!

- No! Darcy, do something!
- Imbecile?

- Charles, put that down.
- Drivelling, snivelling imbecile!

Oh!

Number 18 Clifford Street.
Quick as you can.

Go!

I have sent for my physician.
He will be here within the hour.

In an hour he could be dead. He's lost
half a pint of blood in two minutes.

You do the maths.

Mr Bennet!

Shocking business, bleeding on
a fellow's rugs this time of year.

What would Lady Catherine say!

- Your physician, can he do stitches?
- Stitches?

He is not a dressmaker.

Oh, God, I've let the woman I love
run through my fingers like mercury

and now her father
lies dying by my hand!

He needs stitches.
Please tell me you understand that.

There's a woman here. She's arranged
medical matters for me in the past.

- we should bring her here.
- Wickham, you are a bastard,

- but the right one at the right time.
- One does one's best.

Everyone you know, Miss Price,

will one day prise your fingers from
the raft and watch you drown. Everyone.

Except me.

Miss Price?

I have to find Elizabeth. She must be
with her father. Nothing else matters.

I believe if I am compelled
to hear that name again...

Be there, partner, please.

Please.

- where the hell have you been?
- Hello, Michael.

75 bloody texts.
An hour and a half of voicemail.

I was in a place
that didn't have very good coverage.

Sorry.

- You've lost weight.
- You haven't. Your bum's got bigger.

My bum has not got bigger,
it's the dress that makes it look big.

I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is
to be discussing the size of my bum.

I know you have a lot of shouting
that you need to do,

but right now I need to find Elizabeth.

- Where is she?
- Pirhana got her a job. Nannying.

- She cleans the kids' teeth with chalk.
- I have to find her.

Please, take me on your bike.

- I sold it.
- You sold the Ducati?

- Why?
- To buy us a holiday in Barbados.

The original idea was that it should be
a honeymoon. Let's go anyway, yeah?

Skip the getting married bit
because that seems to be a problem.

Have the honeymoon and...

see how we get on.

Thank you.

Is that thank you, yes,
or thank you, no?

Thank you, but right now, can you
lend me 20 quids for a taxi to find this girl

so I can tell her something terrible?

I said I'd sold the Ducati,
I didn't say I hadn't got wheels.

Stop! Stop, stop, stop!

Darcy.

- You followed me.
- Are my wits disordered by opium?

- What is this dreadful place?
- This is London.

My London.

I will tell you this, Miss Price,

and it is true.

The assembly rooms at Meryton,

I danced with you,
not in order to spare my friend,

but because I wanted to dance with you.

Our acquaintance has been informed
by my refusal to acknowledge this,

for I have been blinded by pride.

Charles, Georgiana, Wickham, you.

I was calamitously mistaken
in my judgment of you all.

A fellow less pig-headed
would have realised from the start

that what I felt for you was...

what I felt for you was... Iove.

I love you.

I followed you to this infernal place
because I would follow you anywhere.

I would harrow hell to be with you.

- What about Caroline?
- I cannot marry Caroline Bingley.

- Because she is not a maid?
- Of course she is a maid.

I cannot marry her
because I do not love her.

I love you.

OK.

Before we go any further,
there is someone you have to meet.

Right now, take my hand.

We're going to find Elizabeth Bennet.

I told him not to mess with me.
And what colour's he?

- Excuse me, love.
- Oh, sorry.

Surfeit of negroes.

Tourette's. Sorry.

Gentlemen here
tend not to speak on the bus.

Come along, Tixie.

- That's my dress.
- Uh, yes.

It looks well on you. It would not
fit me now. I'm macrobiotic.

You must go back, Miss Bennet.
Your father needs you urgently.

The gentleman on the bath chair.
I have seen his likeness.

Tinky winky.

I like to see the television,
but I do not care to hear it.

- What is this of my father?
- He needs you.

He's had an accident.
His life is in danger.

I'm sorry,
there isn't time to dress it up.

I must switch off the appliances.

My employers are most anxious
about the size of their footprint.

This gentleman
has just come through the door.

I hazarded as much.

Dr and Mr Rosenberg
have taken Rachel to the cinema.

I must leave a note.

- Doctor and mister?
- Dr Rosenberg is a lady, yes.

The world is greatly changed.

Michael!

Damn. I need to use the telephone.
I've got to call my boyfriend.

Yes, of course.

Elizabeth Bennet
is lending me her mobile...

I must close the appliances.

Elizabeth, leave that, we must go.

Darcy!

Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley?

I am your wife.

I do not recall marrying you, madam.

I think I would have noticed if I had.

We have been married nearly 200 years.

Look.

Elizabeth, leave this now.

Taxi! He's coming.

- I've got no money.
- He's already paid by credit card.

I summoned him by text.

I was born out of time, Miss Price.
Out of time and out of place.

Goodness, here is Pirhana.

- God Almighty, Amanda!
- I know.

I know, I know.

You're Darcy, yeah? Looks like
a Greek statue and talks like one.

What do you mean?

Darcy's some ponce in a book.
Some todger-twitching nancy boy.

- It's Darcy.
- What is this curious person?

Is it some sort of village idiot?

- Or a clown?
- Oh, clown! Yeah, that's me.

Oh, Michael! No, I do not want this!

I'm afraid, sir, I can consent
to be struck only by my friends.

You and I lack introduction.

Michael Dolan. How do you do?

Oh!

Stop this! Oh!

- How dare you lay hands upon her!
- I said stop!

All right,
this is what we're going to do.

You are taking him
through there right now.

The rest of us will say goodbye nicely

and watch you step through to fictional
Georgian England, and that'll be it.

- Then we'll spend our lives in therapy.
- Miss Price...

No! No "Miss Price" from anyone.
You're going or I'll swing at you myself.

- The door does not oblige.
- It bloody well does.

This is Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet
coming through, for God's sake.

There we go.

Oh!

It is your need that opens it.

This is ridiculous.

You should see this, Pirhana.

I'm talking ten minutes max.

I'm black. And I can't live without
chocolate, electricity or bog paper.

- They have chocolate.
- Even for ten minutes.

- OK.
- Sorry.

Amanda, you go through that door
and I'll be gone.

- And I will not be coming back.
- Please don't do this macho thing now.

I'm trying to send him home
so he can get married to her.

- I'm trying...
- You go through there and I'm gone.

This ends.

One way or the other.

You walk around like that,
you'll get beaten up. Come on.

- Amanda!
- I heard you, but what else can I do?

Ready?

Would you be so kind
as to direct me to a private room?

I'm experiencing
an overwhelming desire to sleep.

I bid you good night, madam.

The two of you are in the right place
at the right time.

- At the same time.
- Miss Price...

The necessary links that must be forged,
the connections of mutual understanding,

- they cannot be conjured so.
- I know.

I am so concerned for my father.

We must send for Charlotte Lucas.
Her comprehension of anatomy...

Charlotte's gone. She's not here.
Don't worry about Charlotte.

She's gone to be a missionary in Africa.

Africa?

- What have I done?
- You haven't done anything.

It's a joke between us,
when we were children,

that if life became
irreparably miserable...

and lonely,

one could always run away to Africa.

Papa.

Clever of you to know someone
so handy with the needle.

Less clever of you, sir,
to insist upon returning home.

Oh, I always prefer to die at home.

What are you holding on to?

Oh.

- Good gracious.
- Lizzy!

- Where is Papa?
- In this time of crisis

Longbourn requires a firm hand
on the tiller, so says Lady Catherine,

therefore, Ecce Homo.

Who is this?

This is my husband. Mr Collins.

Jiminy Cricket!

You cannot marry Collins.
That will not do at all.

- You must marry Bingley.

Lizzy!

- Get changed. Here. Quickly.
- She has married Collins.

I know. Cock-up from start to finish,
but your father can't see you like that.

My father is here?

Damn.

It is too late.

I have died.

I hesitate to dispute with you when
you have received a blow to the head,

but you speak nonsense.

Can it be Lizzy?

- My Lizzy?
- It can, sir.

But where is her hair?

She left it in Hammersmith.

And what is that infernal smell?

That she brought back. No nurse
should venture forth without it.

It may sting a little, like the devil,

but it is little more than you deserve.

Dearest, silliest Papa.

Lizzy.

Lizzy.

Got a house full, Miss Price.

Where am I to sleep?

I am grateful to you, George.

But where you put yourself tonight
is not my concern.

Perhaps you should address yourself
to Mr Collins.

I doubt if Mr Collins
is equipped to give me satisfaction

with regard to this inquiry.

Then you must take matters
into your own hands.

Mine are full.

Mr Darcy. Did you sleep?

I was troubled by dreams.

- I shall leave for Pemberley at once.
- Oh.

- But will you breakfast first?
- No.

Please extend me the kindness of
putting a carriage at my disposal. Now.

There is only one carriage, Mr Darcy,
and the coachman...

- This is intolerable.
- I can sent Elspeth to Meryton?

Yes, do. How kind.

I shall walk in the grounds until
arrangements are made. Thank you.

- Normal transmission is resumed.
- What an insufferable, rude man.

Walk with him. Go on.
He hates being cooped up.

Walk and talk.

It's your duty, Lizzy, to try.

But I am altered by what I have seen.

- He's seen it too.
- But he does not remember it.

He discards it as a dream.

I shall try.

Ah, ragwort. It is the very devil.

Ragwort is the devil,
but this is St John's wort, see?

The leaves are perforated.
Little pin pricks. This is also the devil,

but it is important to call a thing
by its proper name, however fiendish.

Lady Catherine is come!

Bingley is hiding in the garden!
His sister will not come out the carriage!

Mr Bingley,
there is a lady here for you.

I'm not drunk.

- Your father?
- His health improves apace.

Thank God for it.

Jane, I need to impart something to you.

In my behaviour to your sister,
there was never the very slightest...

For my selfishness and vanity,
I'm surely damned.

Charles...

Please, what is done cannot be undone.

- The worst of it was done by me.
- No, Jane...

Who married Mr Collins? You?

Here.

Every year, on this day, we will,
in our own separate lives,

pick a dog rose.

It shall be the only sign before God
that we were ever in love.

And always shall be.

The only sign but this.

This room is far too small.

How negligent I am to lack a room
fit for public assembly.

I shall say what I have to say
and then I shall leave immediately.

First, I made it pellucidly clear
to you, Mrs Bennet, over my salt,

that I considered the brothers Collins
a match for your daughters,

yet that you have done nothing
to promote the cause.

You have abandoned them to a house
run by criminally incompetent servants.

Well, what do you have
to say for yourself?

I say this.

You are a prig, madam. A pander.

And a common bully.

And you cheat at cards.

Do you suppose you may enter my house
and brandish your hat at me thus?

I have a mind to turn you upside down
and use you to scrape out Ambrosia's sty.

Madam, I take my leave of you.

Do! Or I shall take you out
and set to scraping.

Scrape, scrape, scrape, I shall go!

Tally-ho, wife!

- Mrs Bennet, you must desist.
- Oh, be quiet, you silly man.

Do you suppose Mamma would permit
her daughters to marry your brothers

When before her very eyes
is the specimen of you?

Jane! Jane!

Mrs Bennet, that was bloody marvellous.

It was refreshing.

You, come with me.

Tonight, Mrs Bennet,
with your permission,

I think I shall sleep in our bedroom.

I am not here to pollute the marriage
of those torpid priests

to those vulgar little girls.

The propagation of the Bennets
is a tumour that society must cut out.

I am come to deal with you, Miss Price.

You were told that
you should not have Darcy,

yet still you hurl yourself at his feet

in the hope that he will stumble
over you, proposing as he falls.

Who has been your tutor? Wickham?
I should have drilled you better.

Less fan, more brain.

Land, blood, property.

Nothing else matters.

Bodily needs can be accommodated,
the needs of the heart are expendable.

Who is that woman?

That's Elizabeth Bennet.

And the interesting thing about her is,

she's the one who's
actually going to marry Darcy.

What is it that you want?

I want Jane not to be married to Collins,
but that can't be changed.

- Tell me why I should change it.
- What do you mean? You're not God.

- Has the marriage been consummated?
- No, it hasn't. Not yet.

Many a man has capacious stables

containing nothing but a barrow
with a wheel that squeaks.

Naturally, one knows
the necessary signatories.

- It could be done.
- An annulment?

- Why? Why would you do that?
- To amuse myself.

To have from you the assurance that,
even from the corner of my eye,

I should never glimpse you,
Miss Price, ever.

For here and now, you shall undertake
to remove yourself from society.

Entirely.

Are my terms acceptable?

You should have been my creature.

Quit this house, Fitzwilliam.
Repudiate its spawn,

or I will see you snubbed and cut to
the length and breadth of Christendom.

Are we to leave?
But I have not yet spoke to Darcy.

- Drive on!
- But my brother...

Your brother is a poodle-faking ninny.
Let him walk.

Drive on!

Gaiety, Miss Price.
Always gaiety.

Chase it.

Will you abort that disgusting noise.

Forgive me, Lady Catherine, I have no...

- Could we pause the carriage here?
Wickham is a reptile.

I will be shunned.

Society will call me despoiled.

I shall be the woman
who could not inspire her husband

to consummate his marriage.

But you will be free to be with Charles.

Oh, truly, Miss Price,
you understand nothing. Nothing!

I could never be with Charles.

Why not?

Because of society?

I'm through with it.

Society can go hang.

Jane, the day
you are at liberty from Collins

is the day I take you to America.

- America?
- It shall be our new-found-land.

John Donne, don't you know?
"Licence my roving hands" and so forth.

In America, we shall be recreated,

married by liberal Episcopalians.

We shall have 25 children
and name them all Amanda.

Even the boys.

- Until Pemberley.
- Until Pemberley.

I am decided what to do.
You told me once to mind my duty.

I know not why this is my duty,
but I acknowledge it.

And so goodbye.

Goodbye.

Mr Darcy returns to Pemberley.

I am to visit him there anon.

He wishes for me to clarify
the types of wort in his meadows.

And to meet his sister.

Good.

I can learn to love him.

I'm sorry, it's just I see Jane and I...

You think marriage to Darcy
would be like marriage to Collins?

Look, in the book,
you don't exactly hit it off...

to begin with.

Just... keep talking.

From the talking...

comes the love.

Where are you going?

Home.

Darcy!

Not one heartbeat do I forget.

If I went away again,

to Hammersmith,

should you mind?

It would break your mother's heart.

Then I cannot go.

You face a terrible dilemma, Lizzy.

If you return to Hammersmith, you will
dismay your mother, if you remain here,

you will disappoint your father.

I cannot cling to you all my life, Lizzy.

I am dressed as an adult.

Sooner or later
I will have to comport myself as one.

The time has come
for me to tie you well...

and let you go.

Miss Price.

Yes.

We should celebrate.

You asked me a question, I answered it,
and we didn't have an argument about it.

I did not ask you a question.
I made an observation - Miss Price.

The confirmation of your identity
was entirely superfluous.

As a result, we are now arguing
about it and, therefore, you are wrong.

That's so sweet.

You're actually trying to make me laugh.

Yes.

It shall not occur again.

- And you're smiling.
- No, no.

I only smile in private...

when nobody is looking.