艾玛1996

经典+精致的英伦喜剧小品， Emma和 Mr. Knightley都是极品，身边几乎就没有可与之条件匹配的异性追求者，所以最终这两人是得走到一块的。谈恋爱就像过招，段位不对称，三下五除二直接被对方拿下的，多半不久之后也就被弃入蔽履了，所以关键还在平衡二字。奥斯丁把皆大欢喜的美好结局留给了她的作品，自己却终身未嫁。

自诩终身不嫁，却又热衷于为周围人牵线搭桥，偏偏总是YY过头，自以为是地干涉友人终身大事。说到底，还是因为没有看到自己的那杯茶，不知情为何物。

Smart,kind,beautiful,outgoing,life-loving.....
What else can u imagin and Emma don't have?

She's lucky to have such kind of man as Mr Knightley to take her to peace and happy life.

Sometimes,
maybe there's nothing basically wrong with us,
We just need somebody but always blind on the way of finding.

How lucky it is to have some one
who's more reasonable than we are,
and finally give us another chance to make the right choice.

He's bright,
he's quiet,
he knows how to appreciate and how to love,how to make choice.

Emma,
to be honest,
I envy you...

我整理的一部分剧本
喜欢这部电影的朋友可以用得上
Narrator: In a time when one's town was one's world, and the actions at a dance excited greater interest than the movement of armies, there lived a young woman who knew how this world should be run.
Emma: The most beautiful thing in the world is a match well made and a happy marriage to you both.
Mrs. Weston: Thank you, Emma. Your painting grows more accomplished every day.
Emma: You are very kind, but it would be all the better if I practiced my drawing more as you urged me.
Mrs. Weston: It's very beautiful.
Mr. Elton: I should never take side against you, Miss Woodhouse, but your friend is right. It is indeed a job well done.
Emma: A job well done, Mr. Elton, was yours in performing the ceremony.
Mr. Woodhouse: Must the church be so drafty, Mr. Elton? It is very difficult to surrender the soul when one is worried about one's throat.
Mr. Elton: Perhaps some tea and cake would revive you, Mr. Woodhouse?
Mr. Woodhouse: Miss Taylor, surely you're not serving cake at your wedding? Far too rich. You put us all at peril. And I am not alone in feeling so.
Where is Mr. Perry, the apothecary? He will support me.
Mrs. Weston: He is over there, Mr. Woodhouse, having some cake.
Mr. Woodhouse: What?
Emma: I have to take Father home. But dear Miss Taylor--Oh, no! You are "Dear Miss Taylor" no more! You are dear Mrs. Weston now, and how happy this must make you. Such happiness this brings to all of us.
Mrs. Weston: My dear Emma!
Mr. Woodhouse: Poor Miss Taylor. She was so happy here. Why should she give up being your governess only to be married?
Emma: I am grown now. She cannot put up with my ill humors forever. She must wish for children of her own.
Mr. Woodhouse: You have no ill humors. Your own mother, God rest her, could be no more real than Miss Taylor. Can she truly wish to give life to a mewling infant who will import disease each time it enters the house? No! I said poor Miss Taylor and poor, indeed, she is.
Knightley: As an old friend of the family, I had to ask as soon as I got back: Who cried the most at the wedding?
Mr. Woodhouse: [Chuckling]
Emma: And how is my sister? Is your brother giving her the respect we Woodhouse ladies deserve?
Mr. Woodhouse: Poor Isabella. She was the first to leave me. No doubt, that is where Miss Taylor got the notion to go.
Knightley: Don't be too hard on Miss Taylor. It must be easier for her to have only one to please than two.
Emma: Especially when one of us is such a troublesome creature.
Mr. Woodhouse: Yes, I am... most troublesome.
Emma: [Giggles] Dear Papa, I could never mean you. Mr. Knightley loves to find fault with me, that's all. It's his idea of a joke.
Knightley: I'm practically a brother to you, Emma. Is it not a brother's job to find fault with his sister?
Mr. Woodhouse: But where is the fault with you?
Emma bears it well. But she is most sorry to lose Miss Taylor.
Knightley: We would not like Emma so well as we do if she did not miss her friend.
Mr. Woodhouse: Thank you.
Emma: I shall miss her so. I do not know what I shall do without her.
Knightley: She's not far.
Mr. Woodhouse: Almost half a mile!
Emma: Her obligations are there now. She cannot sit and talk with me in the old way, or walk with me, or urge me to better myself.
Knightley: That should not matter as you always did just as you pleased.
Emma: Yes. But I shall miss her urging me. She was as selfless a friend as I have ever had. I hope to say someday I have done half as much for someone as Mrs. Weston did for me.
Knightley: You must be happy that she settled so well.
Emma: Indeed! One matter of joy in this is that I made the match myself. People said Mr. Weston would never marry again, and what a triumph.
Knightley: Triumph? You made a lucky guess.
Emma: Have you never known the triumph of a lucky guess? Had I not promoted Mr. Weston's visits, and given encouragement where encouragement was needed, we might not have had a wedding today.
Mr. Woodhouse: Then please, my dear, encourage no one else.
Marriage is so disrupting to one's social circle.
Emma: Only one more, Papa. When Mr. Elton joined their hands today, he looked very much as if he would like the same kind office performed for him.
Mr. Woodhouse: [Sighs] Invite him for dinner. That is kindness enough.
Knightley: Mr. Elton is a man of 26. He knows how to take care of himself.
Emma: One does not like to generalize about so many people all at once, Mr. Knightley, but you may be sure that men know nothing about their hearts whether they be six and twenty or six and eighty. Excepting you, of course, Father.
Mr. Woodhouse: [Chuckles]
Emma: No. Mr. Elton will be the next person to benefit from my help.
Knightley: Poor Miss Taylor, indeed! It is Mr. Elton who deserves our pity.
Mr. Woodhouse: [Chuckling]
Emma: Mr. Elton! Welcome to our party.
Mr. Elton: Miss Woodhouse, thank you indeed for including me. A party is a party. But a party on a summer's eve, mmm!
Emma: It relieves my mind very much that you are here, for there is someone new in our group. Her name is Harriet Smith. And she is a former pupil of Mrs. Goddard's. I had never met Miss Smith before this evening and I'm already struck by her charm. I wondered if I might ask you to make certain she is at ease throughout the evening.
Mr. Elton: If helping Miss Smith would help Miss Woodhouse, then I'm happy to be of service.
Emma: Come. I shall make the introduction.
Miss Bates: Miss Woodhouse, we come quite overpowered.
Emma: Oh, Mrs. Bates, Miss Bates. So happy you could come.
Miss Bates: No! We are the happy ones. W-Well, how do you do, Mr. Elton? We are the happy ones, not only to be here tonight, but for the beautiful hindquarter of pork you sent us. It has been heaven itself. What a happy porker it must have come from! We're so obliged for your sending it to us. Pork! And we're so obliged for your having us tonight, very much indeed. I was just saying to Mother, we should be obliged and indeed we are.
Oh, doesn't your hair look pretty? Just like an angel. Angel, Mother! Oh, speaking of angels, Mr. Elton, your sermon on Daniel in the lion's den was so inspiring, so powerful in all its particulars. It left us speechless. Quite speechless, I tell you. We have not stopped talking of it since. Isn't this a lovely party? Lovely! Lovely! Lovely!
Knightley: Where will you live now that you've completed your education?
Harriet: Mrs. Goddard has been kind enough to let me stay on with her.
Mrs. Goddard: She's a great help to me. If you'll excuse me.
Mr. Woodhouse: Mrs. Goddard.
Emma: Mr. Knightley.
Knightley: Ah, Emma. I wondered where you were. But now I see you've been hard at work making Mr. Elton comfortable.
Emma: Yes, Mr. Knightley, but I've been remiss in doing the one thing that shall bring him the greatest enjoyment. Mr. Elton. May I present Miss Smith?
Mr. Elton: Any friend of Miss Woodhouse is-
Emma: Mr. Weston, have you had any news of your son?
Mr. Weston: Oh, indeed. Miss Smith, I was married many years ago to a woman whose life was lost to illness just three years after the birth of our son, Frank. As I could not see to my business and care for the infant, I allowed him to be brought up by my wife's brother and his wife, the Churchills. He lives in London now, a young man, and has never been here. His aunt is not well and she does not care to be without him.
Mrs. Weston: His coming would be the final blessing for our marriage.
Harriet: How lucky to have been twice blessed in marriage. It has been my belief that one loves only once. I'm happy to be wrong.
Mr. Weston: Not so happy as I, Miss Smith.
Mrs. Weston: I had the most pleasing letter from him on the occasion of our marriage. I have it here if anyone would care to see it.
Miss Bates: A most charming and kindly letter. Don't you think so, Mother? Have, have you ever read such a letter, Mr. Knightley? Do you know, this, this reminds me of Jane's style somewhat. It's a very delicate style which is more usual in a woman, but a good sign in a man, I think.
Mr. Woodhouse: Nicely expressed. But it sounds as though he eats a worrisome amount of custard.
Mrs. Goddard: It's not merely the feeling in it. The penmanship is so confident.
Mrs. Weston: Isn't Miss Smith delightful?
Emma: I watched her with continuous pleasure. She is uncertain in these surroundings, yet I thought perhaps I could be of service to her, undertake her introduction into Highbury society. I could never presume to guide her as you did me.
Mrs. Weston: Oh!
Emma: But I might be able to share a little of what I know. Mrs. Weston: She could ask for nothing better. Come, Mr. Weston, I must write to your son. Good night, Mr. Woodhouse.
Mr. Weston: Good night, Mr. Woodhouse. Good night, Emma. Thank you for a wonderful dinner.
Mr. Woodhouse: Good night, Miss Taylor.
Emma: Good night, Mrs. Weston, Mr. Weston.
Mr. Weston: Good night.
Mr. Woodhouse: Poor Miss Taylor. She so obviously wanted to stay.
Emma: How interesting, Miss Smith. And what kind of people are your parents?
Harriet: I do not know. Mrs. Goddard has said that I cannot know them and so I have left it at that. Because of her attentions over the years, Mrs. Goddard has been my true guardian.
Emma: [Gasps] Hurry along, dear. It's Miss Bates coming.
As it is Tuesday, she will have a letter from her niece Jane Fairfax, and she will want to read us every word.
Harriet: Oh, I do not know Miss Fairfax.
Emma: There's not much to be said for her. When pressed, I say she is elegant.
[Miss Bates Giggles]
[Miss Bates Chatting]
Harriet: Besides you and Mrs. Goddard, the only other people I know here are the Martins of Abbey Mill Farm. Mrs. Martin had two parlors and an upper maid and eight cows! Mr. Martin used to cut fresh flowers every day. [Gasps]
Emma: How lucky for Mrs. Martin to have such an agreeable husband !
Harriet: Oh, Miss Woodhouse, Mr. Martin is not her husband. He is her son.
Emma: Ahh! I see. And he is unmarried.
Harriet: Mmm. Though I cannot understand why he seems perfect in every particular. He brought me walnuts once, and went three miles to get them just because he heard me say I liked them. Wasn't that kind? [Gasps]
Emma: Tell me more about Mr. Martin. Is he a man of information?
Harriet: Oh, yes. He reads the agricultural reports. And I recommended he read The Romance of the Forest, and he said he would.
Emma: And what sort of looking man is he?
Harriet: Mmm. I thought him very plain at first, but I do not think so now. Have you never seen him when he is in town? Emma: Families like the Martins are precisely the sort of people with whom I have nothing to do. A degree or two lower, and I might be useful to their families. But a farmer needs none of my help and is therefore as much above my notice as he is below it. In fact--
Harriet: Miss Woodhouse, there he is now! How do I look?
Emma: Fine, dear. Good enough I'm sure for Mr. Martin.
Mr. Martin: Good day. This is a bit of a chance, isn't it?
Harriet: Good day, Mr. Martin. Miss Woodhouse, may I present Mr. Martin?
Harriet: This is Miss Woodhouse.
Mr. Martin: Good day. How do you do?
Harriet: Oh. Were you able to find The Romance of the Forest?
Mr. Martin: Oh, blast! I forgot. But I go again tomorrow, and I will make every effort to get that thought into my head.
Harriet: How's your mother?
Emma: [Thinking] Really, Harriet, we can do better than this. lf you pull this way, dear, you'll find it makes a neater stitch.
Harriet: Of course! May I ask what you thought of my friend, Robert Martin?
Emma: Well, dear, I imagined him a degree nearer gentility.
Harriet: True. He's not so genteel as Mr. Knightley, but--
Emma: No! Not one in a hundred men has "gentleman" so plainly written across him as Mr. Knightley. But let us judge him next to another man. Oh, say... Mr. Elton. Mr. Elton is a fine man. Thoughtful in ways Mr. Martin can never be.
Harriet: Miss Woodhouse, whatever his faults, Mr. Martin is thoughtful.
Emma: I see. Did he take your advice and get the book you asked him to read?

Harriet: Um--Well... no.
Emma: Yes.
Harriet: Yes! I wonder that he did not remember it.
Emma: Oh, well. Mr. Elton said something very kind about you the other day.
Harriet: Can you not tell me what it was?
Emma: Oh! It is not my place to intrude in personal matters. But, as your friend, I could make an exception if you wish.
Mr. Elton: Miss Smith was always a beautiful creature.
But the attractions you have added are far superior.
Emma: Oh, I have done very little. If it were admissible to contradict a lady
Emma: I cannot take credit for her beauty, or her sweetness, nor
Mr. Elton: An idea has just dropped into my mind, surely from heaven itself. What if you were to exercise your artistic talents and draw a portrait of Miss Smith? How I would love to watch you draw her.
Emma: Mr. Elton, my skills are slender indeed, and we must not forget how shy Miss Smith is.
Mr. Elton: Oh. Do you think it would help if I asked her to pose?
Mr. Elton: Oh, Miss Woodhouse, may I look, please? I cannot wait another second. Incredible.
You have expressed her completely.
Emma: Mr. Elton, really! You exaggerate.
Mr. Elton: Indeed, I do not. Nor cannot.
Emma: The reason I have not done a portrait in so long is because the spouse always complains. As there are no husbands or wives here, I trust I may proceed safely.
Mr. Elton: No husbands or wives at present, Miss Woodhouse.
Knightley: You've made her too tall.
Mr. Elton: It... may not be Miss Smith's height in terms of measurement, but it is surely the height of her character.
Mr. Woodhouse: My dear, I would paint a shawl on her as one can't help feeling that she will catch cold. Otherwise, it is quite splendid. It only wants a suitable frame. We will have to get it to London.
Mr. Elton: Might I be entrusted with such a commission?
I would be gratified more than words can express.
[People Chatting, Cows Mooing, Sheep Bleating]
[Tapping]
Harriet: He wants to marry me! Would you mind reading this?
Emma: Certainly not! I cannot believe Mr. Elton proposed! He surely is--
Harriet: Not Mr. Elton. Mr. Martin, my friend! Is it a good letter or too... short?
Emma: It is a good letter! One of his sisters must have helped him. Yet, it is not in the style of a woman. Well, it is a good letter, and you must answer it immediately. He must have his disappointment and move on.
Harriet: Well, you think I should refuse him?
Emma: You did not plan to return an answer favorable to this claim?
Harriet: No, I did not. That is, I did not mean--Um, well... I was not sure. That is why I came to you.
Emma: It's not my place to intrude!
Harriet: I depend so on what you think.
Emma: I would not advise you for the world! If you prefer Mr. Martin to every other person you know, or may ever know, if you think him the most agreeable man you have ever been or ever will be in company with, then why should you hesitate?
Harriet: But if you'll not influence me, I must do as well as I can by myself. So-- Well, I am determined to. And I have really almost made up my mind to refuse Mr. Martin? Oh, do you think that's right or wrong? Is it wrong?
Emma: Now that you have decided, I will share the feelings I kept you in suspense of. I think you are perfectly right.
Harriet: Yes. But--Oh, dear, it will make his mother and sisters most unhappy.
Emma: Let us think of other mothers and sisters who may be more cheerfully employed at this moment. I believe Mr. Elton is showing your picture to his mother and sisters telling them how the subject is more beautiful than the portrait.
Harriet: If he shows it, I am sure it is only to praise your artistry.
Emma: If you are sure, then you are surely wrong. By showing it to them, he is revealing his deeper intentions which may produce a letter of his own.
Harriet: Oh!
Knightley: Very well, I admit it. You have improved Harriet Smith.
Emma: I hope you're not the only man to have noticed.
Knightley: I'm not. I believe your friend will soon hear something serious. Something to her advantage.
Emma: Who makes you his confidant?
Knightley: I have reason to believe that Harriet Smith will soon receive an offer of marriage from a man desperately in love with her. Robert Martin. He came here two evenings ago to consult about it. He's a tenant, you know, and a good friend. He asked whether it would be imprudent of him to settle so early. Whether she was too young or whether he was beneath her.
Emma: Better questions for Mr. Martin I could not have chosen myself.
Knightley: I never hear better sense from anyone than from Robert Martin. He proved he could afford to marry, and I said he could not do better.
Emma: No, indeed, he could not. Come. I will tell you something in return. He wrote to Harriet yesterday.
Knightley: Oh, yes?
Emma: Yes. He was refused.
Knightley: I'm not sure I understand.
Emma: He asked and she refused.
Knightley: Then she is a greater simpleton than I believed.
Emma: The most incomprehensible thing in the world to a man is a woman who rejects his offer of marriage.
Knightley: I do not comprehend it because it is madness. I hope you're wrong!
Emma: I could not be. I saw her answer.
Knightley: You saw her answer? Emma. You wrote her answer, didn't you?
Emma: If I did, I would have done no wrong. He is not Harriet's equal.
Knightley: I agree, he is not her equal.
Emma: Good.
Knightley: He is her superior in sense and situation. What are Harriet Smith's claims of birth or education that make her higher than Robert Martin? She is the natural daughter of nobody knows whom. The advantage of the match was entirely on her side.
Emma: What? A farmer? Even with all his merit, a match for my dear friend? It would be a degradation for her to marry a person whom I could not admit as my own acquaintance.
Knightley: A degradation? For illegitimacy and ignorance
to marry to a respected, intelligent farmer ?
Emma: She is a gentleman's daughter.
Knightley: Whoever her parents, they made no plans to introduce her into good society. She was left with Mrs. Goddard for an indifferent education. Her friends evidently thought this was good enough for her, and it was. And she thought so too until you began to puff her up! Vanity working on a weak mind produces every kind of mischief.
Emma: Hmm. You dismiss her beauty and good nature.
Yet I would be very much mistaken if your sex in general does not think those claims the highest a woman could possess.
Knightley: Men of sense, whatever you may say, do not want silly wives. Upon my word, Emma, better be without sense than misapply it as you do.
[Dog Whimpers]
Knightley: Try not to kill my dogs.
Emma: We see so differently on this point that there can be no use canvassing it. We shall only make each other angry! Ah, I see the tea is ready. Let's stop and have some.
Knightley: Clearly, Emma, you have someone else in mind for your friend. But if the gentleman you dream of is Mr. Elton, your labor is in vain. As vicar, Elton is unlikely to make an imprudent match, especially to a girl of obscurity who may bring him disgrace. In unreserved moments, when only men are present, I have heard him speak of a large family of young ladies from Bath who all have 20,000 pounds apiece. Believe me when I tell you that he may talk sentimentally, but he will act rationally.
Emma: If I had my heart set on Mr. Elton, then your opening my eyes would have been a kind service. But I care only to watch her grow.
Knightley: No more, please! No more.
[Applause]
Mr. Elton: Bravo.
Emma: Thank you, Charles. Mr. Elton.
Mr. Elton: Hmm?
Emma: Harriet is collecting riddles for a little book, and we knew you would come up with something cunning.
Mr. Elton: No, no, no. I'm not nearly clever enough.
Knightley: Emma, you didn't ask me to contribute a riddle.
Emma: Your entire personality is a riddle, Mr. Knightley. I thought you overqualified.
Mr. Elton: [Chuckling]