Darcy, emboldened by her defiance, walks across a misty field at dawn. He finds Elizabeth walking alone. He is humble now. His pride is gone. He asks if her feelings have changed. She takes his hand.
Then comes the visit from Mr. Collins, their ridiculous clergyman cousin, who will inherit Longbourn. Episode Three delivers the season’s first great set-piece: he proposes to Elizabeth in the Longbourn parlor. It is a masterpiece of condescending absurdity. “My reasons for marrying are, first… secondly… thirdly…” He lists them like items on a grocery list. Elizabeth refuses, calmly, then firmly. Her mother is hysterical. Her father, hiding in his library, sighs with relief. “An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth,” he says. “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.” -s Pride and Prejudice -1995- All 6 Episodes
Episode Two sees the family plunged into crisis. Jane falls ill at Netherfield, and Elizabeth walks three muddy miles to tend to her. She arrives, petticoats caked in brown earth, a vision of vibrant defiance. Miss Bingley is aghast. Mr. Darcy, however, watches her from the window, and something in his chest unthaws. Darcy, emboldened by her defiance, walks across a
But the true blow of Episode Three falls not at Longbourn, but in the mess room of the militia. Wickham arrives. Handsome, charming, with a story of grievous wrongs suffered at Darcy’s hands. Elizabeth drinks it in, her prejudice confirmed. Darcy, she decides, is a monster. And Wickham? A wounded hero. His pride is gone
The story begins not with a whisper, but with a clatter. The clip-clop of hooves on the muddy lane to Netherfield Park announces to all of Meryton that the neighborhood has a new, wealthy tenant: Mr. Bingley. For Mrs. Bennet, it is the sound of destiny. For her second-eldest daughter, Elizabeth, it is merely the prelude to an evening of tolerable nonsense.
Episode Five is the turning point. The next morning, Darcy hands her a letter. She reads it in a sun-dappled grove, her face shifting from anger to confusion to horror. Wickham, he writes, was a gambler, a wastrel who tried to elope with Darcy’s fifteen-year-old sister, Georgiana, for her fortune. And Jane? Darcy admits he advised Bingley she did not love him, believing it a kindness. Elizabeth looks up from the letter, her world inverted. She has been a fool. Blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.
“My affections and wishes are unchanged,” she says. “But one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”