In literature a drama genre deserves your attention. Dramas are usually called plays. Every person is made up of two parts: good and evil. Due to life circumstances, the human reveals one or another side of his nature. In drama we can see the full range of emotions : it can be love, jealousy, hatred, fear, etc. The best drama books are full of dialogue. This type of drama is one of the oldest forms of storytelling and has existed almost since the beginning of humanity. Drama genre - these are events that involve a lot of people. People most often suffer in this genre, because they are selfish. People always think to themselves first, they want have a benefit.Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (most interesting books to read .txt) 📖
- Author: Jane Austen
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Martha.
[Enters with a letter.] Here is a letter, Miss. The express has just brought it.
Elizabeth.
A letter? For me?
Maid.
Yes, Miss—[She gives Elizabeth the letter; curtsies and goes out.]
Elizabeth.
[Looking at the letter.] Why, it is from Jane! What can be the matter? [She opens the letter hurriedly and reads.] "Dearest Lizzy—I have bad news for you, and it cannot be delayed. An express came to us last night from Colonel Forster. He told us that Lydia had run away from Brighton with one of his officers:—to own the truth—with Wickham!"
Elizabeth.
Oh! Wickham! [Going on with the letter.] "He first thought they had gone to Scotland, but, oh, Lizzy, it is far worse than that! We now know that Wickham never intended to go there, or to marry Lydia at all!"
Elizabeth.
Oh! [Reading again.] "Colonel Forster has been here to-day. He says Wickham is not a man to be trusted! He has left Brighton terribly in debt, and his record is bad in every way. Oh, Lizzy, our distress is very great! My father is going to London with Colonel Forster instantly to try to discover the fugitives. It is hard to ask you to shorten your visit, but we are in such distress that——" [Darting from her seat.] Oh where—where is the express? I must write. No—I must go. Oh, Lydia and Wickham! I must go at once! I must send someone for a carriage. [She rushes to the garden door calling.] Martha, Martha! The express! [Suddenly she calls again.] Oh, Colonel Fitzwilliam, is that you?
Colonel Fitzwilliam.
[Appearing in the garden.] What is the matter, Miss Bennet?
Elizabeth.
[Wildly.] Oh, Colonel Fitzwilliam—the express—or can you get me a carriage? I have bad news from home. I must return at once and Mr. Collins is away. Will you be so kind? [She falls, half-fainting, upon a chair near the door.]
Colonel Fitzwilliam.
[With concern.] Certainly, my dear Miss Bennet—of course—but—— [Calling off.] Darcy, don't wait for me. I can't join you now. Miss Bennet is in distress.
Darcy.
[Entering.] Miss Bennet? Good God! What is the matter?
Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Miss Bennet has just had bad news from home. She wishes to return, and desires a carriage.
Darcy.
[In a decided tone.] Do you go for the carriage, Fitzwilliam. Get one from the stables. [Fitzwilliam hesitates.]
Darcy.
Go. I will remain with Miss Bennet.
[Fitzwilliam goes out.]
Darcy.
[To Elizabeth very gently.] Shall I call the maid, Miss Bennet? A glass of wine? Shall I get it for you? You are very ill.
Elizabeth.
[Hardly able to speak.] No, I thank you: there is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn. [She bursts into tears.]
Darcy.
[Helplessly.] I am sorry, very indeed!
Elizabeth.
[After a short silence.] I have just had a letter from Jane with such dreadful news! It cannot be concealed from anyone.
Darcy.
I am grieved, Miss Bennet. Grieved indeed!
Elizabeth.
Oh, Mr. Darcy, you were right. If I had only believed you! You, and others! But I could not believe it. [She sobs.]
Darcy.
[Greatly moved.] What is it, my dear Miss Bennet? What has happened?
Elizabeth.
[Wildly.] Oh, I cannot tell it, and yet everyone must know! My sister Lydia—has—has eloped—has thrown herself into the power of—of Mr. Wickham! She has no money, nothing that can tempt him to—she is lost forever! [She sobs again.]
Darcy.
Good God, Miss Bennet! Your sister and Wickham! Oh, this is my fault. I should have realised this danger—I should have spoken. My own wretched experience with this man should have been told.
Elizabeth.
[Wonderingly.] Your experience!
Darcy.
Yes—I—you remember. I hinted it to you—to-day. But I should long ago have spoken boldly.
Elizabeth.
What do you mean?
Darcy.
Mr. Wickham attempted this same plan with my own sister—two years ago. She was an ignorant, innocent, trusting girl of fifteen. Happily, his villainy was discovered and prevented. But oh, I should have told you! Had his character been known, this could not have happened.
Elizabeth.
You tried to tell me, Mr. Darcy. Everybody has tried to warn me. But I could not believe it, and now—it is too late, too late!
Darcy.
Let us hope not. Is what you have told me certain—absolutely certain?
Elizabeth.
Oh, yes. They left Brighton together on Sunday night. They are certainly not gone to Scotland.
Darcy.
And what has been done, or attempted, to recover your sister?
Elizabeth.
My father has gone to London. He will beg my uncle Gardiner's assistance. But nothing can be done! I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they ever to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is all horrible!
Darcy.
Miss Bennet, I have made a wretched mistake in all this. Would to Heaven that anything could be said or done on my part that might make you reparation, or offer consolation to such distress!
[Elizabeth sinks sobbing into a chair while Darcy walks up and down in deep thought. In a moment a carriage is heard outside—then voices.]
Darcy.
[Looking out.] Mr. and Mrs. Collins are returning. What would you wish me to do?
Elizabeth.
Oh, I do not know! I do not know!
Darcy.
[Returning to Elizabeth, speaks quickly and in deep concern.] You really wish to return home at once?
Elizabeth.
[Rising from her chair.] Oh, yes, yes—at once. [Reaching her hand to him appealingly.] Take me home, Mr. Darcy! Take me home!
[At this instant Mr. and Mrs. Collins appear at the garden door, and, transfixed with astonishment, stand gazing at Darcy and Elizabeth.]
ACT IVThe Lawn and Shrubbery at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet is seated in a garden chair with pillows at her back. She has an umbrella over her head. Near her stands a table on which are bottles, dishes, etc. She wears a big cap, and is gowned in a widely-flowing, flowered chamber-robe, over which is fastened a shawl; across her knees is a lap-robe. Her entire get-up is grotesque and laughable. About her hover the housekeeper, Hill and Jane.
Jane.
Dear mamma, do try and take some of this nice gruel. You will be ill if you do not eat something.
Hill.
Yes, do, I beg of you, Madam. Now that you are once more in the air, if you will only take some food you will feel much better.
Mrs. Bennet.
[Fretfully.] How can I feel better? I must be ill. It is all very well for the rest of you, now that this disgrace has been brought upon me—but if I had been able to carry my point—if I could have gone to Brighton with all my family, this would never have happened. But poor dear Lydia had nobody to take care of her. Oh, that villainous Wickham! I am sure there was some great neglect or other somewhere, for Lydia is not the kind of girl to run away with a man. But no one would listen to me. I was overruled, as I always am. Poor Lydia! Poor dear child!
Jane.
[Soothingly.] Oh, mamma, try to be calm.
Hill.
Yes, Madam, this excitement is so bad for you.
Mrs. Bennet.
How can I help being excited? You have no feelings. Here is Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight that abominable Wickham and be killed. And then what is to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out before Mr. Bennet is cold in his grave.
Jane.
Oh, mamma, do not have such terrific ideas.
Mrs. Bennet.
[Weeping.] If my brother Gardiner is not kind to me, I do not know what we shall do.
Jane.
Yes, yes. My Uncle Gardiner is very kind. He is doing everything in his power for us. He is helping my father now in London, you know. I hope he will find Lydia, and perhaps he may be able to arrange a marriage after all. You must not give up so, dear mamma.
Hill.
No indeed, Madam. You must not indeed.
Mrs. Bennet.
[Brightening.] Yes, Jane, that is true. My brother may be able to see that they are married. Write to him at once, Jane. Tell him to find them out wherever they may be, and if they are not married already, make them marry. Oh, I do think that Wickham is the wickedest young man in the world to so deceive my poor innocent Lydia. But, Jane, go and write my brother and tell him that Lydia need not wait for wedding clothes—don't let her even give directions till she has seen me, for she doesn't know which are the best warehouses. And oh, Jane, tell my brother to keep your father from fighting that hateful Wickham. Tell him what a dreadful state I am in.
Jane.
Yes, mamma. [She is about to go.]
Mrs. Bennet.
Where are you going?
Jane.
Why, to write the letter, mamma.
Mrs. Bennet.
[Fretfully.] Oh, not just this minute. Don't leave me alone. Where is Lizzy?
Jane.
She has gone down the road to meet the post. She hopes to bring you good news.
Mrs. Bennet.
[Lamenting.] She had better stay here and be of some help. She has only just got home and now she leaves me. But nobody thinks of me. Nobody knows what I suffer. I am frightened out of my wits. I have such tremblings and flutterings all over me—such spasms in my side—and pains in my head, and such beatings at my heart. Oh, I can get no rest by night or by day! [To Hill.] You might try and do something, Hill. Where is my soothing draught?
Hill.
[Looking.] Here, Madam. No, I must have left it in your room. I will run fetch it. [She goes out quickly.]
Jane.
[Who has been looking off toward the driveway during part of this tirade.] Oh, mamma—mamma! Lizzy's running up the drive. She is smiling! She has some good news, I am sure.
Mrs. Bennet.
Take care, Jane. You are exciting me. Oh, my poor nerves.
[Elizabeth enters, breathless. She has a letter in her hand.]
Elizabeth.
Oh, good news—good news, Jane!—mamma! They are married!
Jane.
Oh, Lizzy—Lizzy!
Mrs. Bennet.
You are sure, Lizzy? Don't excite me. You are sure?
Elizabeth.
[Half laughing and half crying.] Oh, yes, 'tis certain. My dear Aunt Gardiner has written me all about it. They are really married! Oh, how good my uncle is! [She kisses the letter.]
Mrs. Bennet.
Oh, Jane—Oh, Lizzy! My dear, dear Lydia! She is really married! I shall see her again! Oh, my good, kind brother! But how did it happen, Lizzy?
Jane.
Yes, tell us all about it. Let me read it. [She reaches for the letter.]
Elizabeth.
[Keeping the letter.] No, I will tell you. Well, my father and my uncle succeeded in finding Lydia. My aunt does not tell me just how it was done.
Mrs. Bennet.
[Triumphantly.] And your father found that they were married after all. I told him——
Elizabeth.
No, mamma. They were not married, and they had no idea of being—but my father and uncle insisted upon it. They took Lydia away at once to my aunt's house and from there, they were married only yesterday at St. Clement's Church.
Mrs. Bennet.
St. Clement's—fine!
Elizabeth.
My dear good uncle has arranged to have all Mr. Wickham's debts paid and my father is to settle an allowance on Lydia.
Jane.
But where are they? What are they going to do?
Elizabeth.
My father is coming home at once. He
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