Transcript
A (0:00)
Dude, did you order the new iPhone 17 Pro? Got it from Verizon, the best 5G network in America. I never looked so good.
B (0:07)
You look the same.
A (0:08)
But with this camera, everything looks better. Especially me.
C (0:10)
You haven't changed your hair in 15 years. Selfies check please with Verizon.
D (0:16)
Get the new iPhone 17 Pro. Designed to be the most powerful iPhone ever. Plus a new iPad and Apple One. No trade in needed. Offer ends November 5th with a new line on Unlimited Ultimate Best 5G Tours. Route Metrics Data United States 2020 25. All rights reserved. Additional terms apply for all offers. See verizon.com for details.
B (0:30)
The holidays mean more travel, more shopping, more time online, and more personal info in more places that could expose you more to identity theft. But LifeLock monitors millions of data points per second. If your identity is stolen, our US based restoration specialists will fix it, guaranteed or your money back. Don't face drained accounts, fraudulent loans or financial losses alone. Get more holiday fun and less holiday worry with Lifelock. Save up to 40% your first year. The visit lifelock.com specialoffer terms apply.
C (1:09)
Welcome to Jane Austen Stories. I'm Julie Andrews and from the Noiza Podcast Network. This is Pride and prejudice part 11 in in the previous episode, it was a lively and eventful Christmas for the Bennet family. They were joined by Elizabeth's favorite aunt and uncle, the likable Mr. And Mrs. Gardiner. Though one of them came with a strange caution about Lizzie's love interest, Mr. Wickham. Lizzie's aunt told our heroine that she should be on her guard with Wickham and that the dashing officer's romantic interest in her could never be serious, given Lizzie has no fortune to her name. Harsh words, but they were soon proven correct when Wickham turned his eye away from Elizabeth and towards an heiress who had come into a large inheritance. Does this mean we've seen the last of the roguish Mr. Wickham? Time will tell. After the festive period, Jane travelled to London. Perhaps the hustle and bustle of the big city would distract her from her heartbreak over Mr. Bingley. Or maybe she'd run into him in town. No such luck in either regard. Jane's happily ever after seems further away than ever now. We rejoin Elizabeth as spring approaches and she prepares to visit an old friend from the Noisa podcast network. This is Pride and prejudice, chapter 27. With no greater events than these in the Longbourn family and otherwise diversified by little beyond the walks to merrit on sometimes dirty and sometimes cold, did January and February pass away. March was to take Elizabeth to Hunsford. She had not at first thought very seriously at of going thither, but Charlotte, she soon found, was depending on the plan, and she gradually learned to consider it herself with greater pleasure as well as greater certainty. Absence had increased her desire of seeing Charlotte again and weakened her disgust of Mr. Collins. There was novelty in the scheme, and as with such a mother and such uncompanionable sisters, home could not be faultless. A little change was not unwelcome for its own sake. The journey would, moreover, give her a peep at Jane, and, in short, as the time drew near, she would have been very sorry for any delay. Everything, however, went on smoothly and was finally settled. According to Charlotte's first sketch, she was to accompany Sir William and his second daughter, Maria. The improvement of spending a night in London was added in time, and the plan became as perfect as plan could be. The only pain was in leaving her father, who would certainly miss her, and who, when it came to the point, so little liked her going that he told her to write to him and almost promised to answer her letter. The farewell between herself and Mr. Wickham was perfectly friendly on his side. Even more, his present pursuit could not make him forget that Elizabeth had been the first to excite and to deserve his attention, the first to listen and to pity, the first to be admired and in his manner of bidding her adieu, wishing her every enjoyment, reminding her of what she was to expect in Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and trusting their opinion of her, their opinion of everybody, would always coincide. There was a solicitude and interest which she felt must ever attach her to him with the most sincere regard, and she parted from him, convinced that, whether married or single, he must always be her model of the amiable and pleasing. Her fellow travellers the next day were not of a kind to make her think him less agreeable. Sir William and his daughter Maria, a good humoured girl, but as empty headed as himself, had nothing to say that could be worth hearing, and were listened to with about as much delight as the rattle of the chaise. Elizabeth loved absurdities, but she had known Sir Williams too long. He could tell her nothing new of the wonders of his presentation and knighthood, and his civilities were worn out like his information. It was a journey of only 24 miles, and they began it so early as to be in Gracechurch street by noon. As they drove to Mr. Gardiner's door, Jane was at a drawing room window watching their arrival. When they entered the passage, she was there to welcome them, and Elizabeth, looking earnestly in her face, was pleased to see it, healthful and lovely as ever. On the stairs were a troupe of little boys and girls, whose eagerness for their cousin's appearance would not allow them to wait in the drawing room. All was joy and kindness. The day passed most pleasantly away, the morning in bustle and shopping, and the evening at one of the theatres. Elizabeth then contrived to sit by her aunt. Their first subject was her sister, and she was more grieved than astonished to hear, in reply to her minute inquiries, that though Jane always struggled to support her spirits, there were periods of dejection. It was reasonable, however, to hope that they would not continue long. Mrs. Gardiner gave her the particulars also of Miss Bingley's visit in Gracechurch street, and repeated conversations, occurring at different times between Jane and herself, which proved that the former had, from her heart, given up the acquaintance. Mrs. Gardiner then rallied her niece on Wickham's desertion, and complimented her on bearing it so well. But, my dear Elizabeth, she added, what sort of girl is Miss King? I should be sorry to think our friend mercenary. Pray, my dear aunt, what is the difference in matrimonial affairs between the mercenary and the prudent motive? Where does discretion end and avarice begin? Last Christmas you were afraid of his marrying me because it would be imprudent. And now, because he's trying to get a girl with only £10,000, you want to find out that he is mercenary. If you will only tell me what sort of girl Miss King is, I shall know what to think, said Mrs. Gardiner. She is a very good kind of girl, I believe, replied Lizzie. I know no harm of her. But he paid her not the smallest attention to her grandfather's death. Made her mistress of this fortune? Inquired Mrs. Gardiner. Well, no. Why should he, Replied Lizzie, if it were not allowable for him to gain my affections because I had no money, what occasion could there be for making love to a girl whom he did not care about and who was equally poor? But there seems indelicacy in directing his attentions towards her so soon after this event, said Mrs. Gardiner. A man in distressed circumstances has not time for all those elegant decorums which other people may observe. If she does not object to it, why should we ask? Lizzie? Her not objecting does not justify him. It only shows her being deficient in something herself, sense or feeling, replied Mrs. Gardiner. Well, cried Elizabeth, have it as you choose. He shall be mercenary, and she shall be foolish. No, Lizzy, that is what I do not choose. I should be sorry, you know, to think ill of a young man who has lived so long in Derbyshire. Oh, if that is all said, Lizzie, I have a very poor opinion of young men who live in Derbyshire. And their intimate friends who live in Hertfordshire are not much better. I am sick of them all. Thank heaven I am going tomorrow, where I shall find a man who has not one agreeable quality, who has neither manners nor sense to recommend him. Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all. Take care, Lizzie. That speech savors strongly of disappointment. Before they were separated by the conclusion of the play, she had the unexpected happiness of an invitation to accompany her uncle and aunt in a tour of pleasure which they proposed taking in the summer. We have not quite determined how far it shall carry us, said Mrs. Gardiner, but perhaps to the lakes. No scheme could have been more agreeable to Elizabeth, and her acceptance of the invitation was most ready and grateful. My dear, dear aunt, she rapturously cried, what delight, what felicity you give me. Fresh life and vigor. Adieu to disappointment and spleen. What amen to rocks and mountains. Oh, what hours of transport we shall spend. And when we do return, it shall not be like other travellers. Without being able to give one accurate idea of anything, we will know where we have gone, we will recollect what we have seen. Lakes, mountains and rivers shall not be jumbled together in our imaginations, nor when we attempt to describe any particular scene will we begin quarreling about its relative situation. Let our first effusions be less insupportable than those of the generality of travellers. Chapter 28. Every object in the next day's journey was new and interesting to Elizabeth, and her spirits were in a state of enjoyment, for she had seen her sister looking so well as to banish all fear for her health. And the prospect of her northern tour was a constant source of delight. When they left the high road for the lane to Hunsford, every eye was in search of the parsonage, and every turning expected to bring it in view. The paling of Rosings park was their boundary on one side. Elizabeth smiled at the recollection of all that she had heard of its inhabitants. At length the parsonage was discernible, the garden sloping to the road, the house standing in it, the green pails and the laurel hedge, everything declared they were arriving. Mr. Collins and Charlotte appeared at the door, and the carriage stopped at the small gate, which led by a short gravel walk to the house. Amidst the nods and smiles of the whole party, in a Moment they were all out of the chaise, rejoicing at the sight of each other. Mrs. Collins welcomed her friend with the liveliest pleasure, and Elizabeth was more and more satisfied with coming when she found herself so affectionately received. She saw instantly that her cousin's manners were not altered by his marriage. His formal civility was just what it had been, and he detained her some minutes at the gate to hear and satisfy his inquiries. After all, her family they were then, with no other delay than his pointing out the neatness of the entrance, taken into the house, and as soon as they were in the parlour, he welcomed them a second time with ostentatious formality to his humble abode, and punctually repeated all his wife's offers of refreshment. Elizabeth was prepared to see him in his glory, and she could not help fancying that in displaying the good proportion of the room, its aspect and its furniture, he addressed himself particularly to her, as if wishing to make her feel what she had lost in refusing him. But though everything seemed neat and comfortable, she was not able to gratify him by any sigh of repentance, and rather looked with wonder at her friend that she could have so cheerful an air with such a companion. When Mr. Collins said anything of which his wife might reasonably be ashamed, which certainly was not seldom, she involuntarily turned her eye on Charlotte. Once or twice she could discern a faint blush, but in general, Charlotte wisely did not hear. After sitting long enough to admire every article of furniture in the room, from the sideboard to the fender, to give an account of their journey and of all that had happened in London, Mr. Collins invited them to take a stroll in the garden, which was large and well laid out, and to the cultivation of which he attended himself. To work in his garden was one of his most respectable pleasures, and Elizabeth admired the command of countenance with which Charlotte talked of the healthfulness of the exercise and owned. She encouraged it as much as possible here, leading the way through every walk and crosswalk, and scarcely allowing them an interval to utter the praises he asked. For every view was pointed out with a minuteness which left beauty entirely behind. He could number the fields in every direction and could tell how many trees there were in the most distant clump. But of all the views which his garden, or which the country or the kingdom could boast, none were to be compared with the prospect of Rosings afforded by an opening in the trees that bordered the park nearly opposite the front of his house. It was a handsome modern building well situated on rising ground from his garden, Mr. Collins would have led them round his two meadows, but the ladies, not having shoes to encounter the remains of a white frost, turned back, and while Sir William accompanied him, Charlotte took her sister and friend over the house, extremely well pleased probably to have the opportunity of showing it without her husband's help. It was rather small, but well built and convenient, and everything was fitted up and arranged with a neatness and consistency of which Elizabeth gave Charlotte all the credit. When Mr. Collins could be forgotten, there was really a great air of comfort throughout, and by Charlotte's evident enjoyment of it, Elizabeth supposed he must be often forgotten. She had already learnt that Lady Catherine was still in the country. It was spoken of again while they were at dinner, when Mr. Collins, joining in, observed, yes, Miss Elizabeth, you will have the honour of seeing Lady Catherine Dubourg on the ensuing Sunday at church, and I need not say you will be delighted with her. She is all affability and condescension, and I doubt not, but you will be honoured with some portion of her notice when service is over. I have scarcely any hesitation in saying that she will include you and my sister Maria in every invitation with which she honours us during your stay here. Her behaviour to my dear Charlotte is charming. We dine at Rosings twice every week and are never allowed to walk home. Her ladyship's carriage is regularly ordered for us. I should say one of her ladyship's carriages, for she has several. Lady Catherine is a very respectable, sensible woman. Indeed, added Charlotte, and a most attentive neighbour. Very true, my dear, replied Mr. Collins. That is exactly what I say. She is the sort of woman whom one cannot regard with too much deference. The evening was spent chiefly in talking over Hertfordshire news and telling again what had been already written. And when it closed, Elizabeth, in the solitude of her chamber, had to meditate upon Charlotte's degree of contentment, to understand her address in guiding and composure in bearing with her husband, and to acknowledge that it was all done very well. She had also to anticipate how her visit would pass, the quiet tenor of their usual employments, the vexatious interruptions of Mr. Collins, and the gaieties of their intercourse with Rosings. A lively imagination soon settled it all. About the middle of the next day, as Elizabeth was in her room getting ready for a walk, a sudden noise below seemed to send the whole house into confusion, and after listening a moment, she heard somebody running upstairs in a violent hurry and calling loudly after her, Lizzie. Lizzie. She opened the door and met Maria in the landing place, who, breathless with agitation, cried out, oh. Oh, my dear Lizzie. Pray make haste and come into the dining room, for there is such a sight to be seen. I will not tell you what it is. Make haste and come down this moment. Elizabeth asked questions in vain. Maria would tell her nothing more. And down they ran into the dining room, which fronted the lane in quest of this wonder. It was two ladies stopping in a low carriage at the garden gate. And is this all? Cried Elizabeth. I expected at least that the pigs were got into the garden, and here is nothing but Lady Catherine and her daughter. Now, my dear, said Maria, quite shocked at the mistake. It is not Lady Catherine. The old lady is Mrs. Jenkinson, who lives with them. The other is Ms. Dubourg. Only look at her. She is quite a little creature. Who would have thought she could be so thin and small? She. She is abominably rude to keep Charlotte out of doors in all this wind. Why does she not come in? Oh, Charlotte says she hardly ever does. It is the greatest of favours when Mr. Bourgh comes in. I like her appearance, said Elizabeth, struck with other ideas. She looks sickly and cross. Yes, she will do for him very well. She will make him a very proper wife. Mr. Collins and Charlotte were both standing at the gate in conversation with the ladies, and Sir William, to Elizabeth's high diversion, was stationed in the doorway in earnest contemplation of the greatness before him and constantly bowing whenever Ms. Dubourg looked that way. At length, there was nothing more to be said. The ladies drove on, and the others returned into the house. Mr. Collins no sooner saw the two girls than he began to congratulate them on their good fortune, which Charlotte explained by letting them know that the whole party was asked to dine at Rosings the next day.