Mansfield Park Page #6

Forgive me.

Enjoy your stay in Portsmouth,

Miss Price.

May it be long...

and up to your standards.

Henry...

Are you certain?

I have no talent for certainty, Susy.

Fanny, come quickly.

Fanny...

Who's to pay for all this paper, Fanny?

Come, come.

Edmund...

I've come to take you back

to Mansfield. You're needed there.

- What's happened?

- Tom was celebrating and fell ill.

The group he was travelling with

left him to recover with Yates...

...who then deserted him as well.

He was found almost dead

two days ago.

The situation is very grave.

We must hurry.

If you wish to, that is.

Fanny, I cannot tell you how much l...

- I shall see you soon, Susy, I feel it.

- Go on, now!

Remember:
"Run mad as often

as you choose, but do not faint!"

I trust, other than this tragedy,

you're well?

Yes...

As I intimated in my last letter,

I believe Mary has almost reconciled

herself to marrying a stodgy clergyman.

I understand Crawford paid you a visit.

Yes.

And was he attentive?

Yes... Very.

And has your heart changed

towards him?

Yes...

Several times.

I have... I find that l...

I find that...

Surely you and I are beyond speaking,

when words are clearly not enough.

I missed you.

And I you.

- Fanny, you're back.

- Yes, sir.

Good. We've had our fill

of estrangement at Mansfield Park.

Water.

The light...please.

- Morning, sir.

- Dear Mr Crawford.

Thank you for joining us at this difficult

time. Maria will be joining us later.

Mr Rushworth is detained

with improvements to Sotherton.

- Miss Julia is due within the hour.

- Welcome.

- Fanny.

- Thank you for coming.

Fanny, I've been meaning to ask you,

how long are you staying?

I'm not certain, Aunt Norris.

And how long are you staying?

Mrs Rushworth...

- I trust you are well?

- I'm fine.

And Mr Rushworth?

Maria...

Is this the behaviour of friends?

Maria... Please...

How's Fanny?

She's a good little girl.

And you've become a good little boy?

She's rejected me, Maria.

Would that this sigh were for me...

My son is mad.

Go to your room!

Get out!

Fanny, what is it? What?

What's wrong?

What?

Don't look at me like that.

Rushworth's a fool, and I can't get out.

Edmund...

I can't get out.

You all right?

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Good morning, Mansfield Park!

Come!

Get Edmund, Sir Thomas and Maria.

We have an important guest here.

Edmund! This is Mr Dixon

of the 'London Times'.

He is writing an article about modern

gardens and is interested in Sotherton.

Where's Maria?

He has noticed the influence of Gilpin.

He loves the new ruins.

Wake up, you degenerate lot!

Hello!

- Maria?

- Sir... Sir!

- Where's Maria?

- I could not say...

At this hour?

We'll speak to Crawford.

It was recommendation to remove

the avenue of oaks from the west front,

up to the top of the hill.

- Where is Crawford?

- At the parsonage with the Grants.

No, we...stopped there first.

Sir Thomas...

There's something you must read.

Oh, dear, dear...

It is...quite startling.

Here, in the society section.

Fanny...

You read it to us.

You have such a strong, clear voice.

"lt is with infinite concern

we have to announce that..."

"...a matrimonial fracas in the family

of Mr Rushworth of Wimpole Street."

Go on.

"The beautiful Mrs Rushworth,"

"who was to be so brilliant a leader

in the fashionable world,"

"has quitted her husband's roof

for the captivating Mr Crawford,"

"the intimate friend

of not only Mr Rushworth,"

"but Mrs Rushworth's father,

Sir Thomas Bertram of Mansfield Park."

"lt is not known even to the editor

whither they have gone."

May God help us.

The fools! Under this roof!

They should've known Rushworth

would bring in a newspaper man.

Under which roof

would it have been better, Mary?

I understand your bitterness,

but do not direct it at me.

Your brother is an actor.

A charming inscrutable actor,

through and through.

The temptation of quick pleasure was

too strong for one unused to sacrifices.

After all the cost and care of an

anxious and expensive education,

I do not feel I know

my own children at all.

Now, please, of course

you know them.

This is 1 806, for heaven's sake!

This is not the first time, nor the last,

such a thing will happen.

Look...

You are indeed a family in distress,

but you must recover

and survive gracefully.

If Henry does not choose

to marry Maria,

and if you also reject her,

she will be an outcast.

A leaf in the wind of other men's plans.

Or...

We can recover.

Here is my proposal...

We must persuade Henry

to marry Maria.

After a respectable period,

Edmund and I will accept them

into our acquaintance...

and household.

Then you all, after an appropriate

period, will properly support them, too.

The Bertrams, being people

of respectability, as they are,

she may recover her footing in society

to a certain degree.

In some circles, she'd never be

admitted, but with dinners and parties...

...some people will like her acquaintance.

Such a strategy.

And how will a poor clergyman

afford these dinners and parties?

Chance is not always unkind.

I beg your pardon.

If Tom is not able to recover,

Edmund will be the heir.

Wealth and consequence could fall

into hands no more deserving.

I understand you think

I should not say such things.

But one must prepare oneself

for every eventuality.

It is the mark of an evolved individual.

I advise that you, Sir Thomas, do not

injure your cause by interference.

Let things take their course.

That may be a difficult thing,

but although Tom, bless his heart, may

not be strong enough for this world,

the rest of us must be.

I speak merely of what must be done,

not what I feel.

You may wish to reconsider

your eagerness for Tom's death.

You may wish to reconsider

your thinly-veiled anger towards me!

If you'd accepted my brother,

you'd be now on the point of marriage,

and Henry would not be

on terms with Mrs Rushworth.

It would have ended

in a regular flirtation

in meetings at Sotherton

and Everingham.

It could all be construed as your fault.

Your startling adaptability

to my brother's possible demise

sends a chill through my heart.

A chill...

You're cheerfully planning parties

with his money!

You shush my father

like a dog at your table.

You attack Fanny for following her own

infallible guide on matters of the heart.

All this has grievously convinced me

that the person I've so dwelt on

has been a creature

of my own imagination!

Not you, Miss Crawford...

You are a stranger to me.

I do not know you, and I'm sorry to say,

I have no wish to.

Is there anything to be done?

Wait...

- Wait?

- Yes.

Time can do almost anything.

He'll be all right.

He survived brain fever

when he was six.

He used to play 'Tom the Knight'.

"Give me a mission, Father," he'd say.

I'd send him with a message to mother

about the tea or...

...to get Baddeley

to get the carriage ready.

"No, Father..."

"Give me a noble mission."

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