October 20, 2025 • 9 mins
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter thirty nine. Could Sir Thomas have seen all his
niece's feelings when she wrote her first letter to her aunt,
he would not have despaired, for though a good night's rest,
a pleasant morning, the hope of soon seeing William again,
and the comparatively quiet state of the house from Tom
and Charles being gone to school, Sam on some project
of his own, and her father on his usual lounges,
(00:23):
enabled her to express herself cheerfully on the subject of home.
There were, still, to her own perfect consciousness, many drawbacks suppressed.
Could he have seen only half that she felt before
the end of a week, he would have thought mister
Crawford sure of her, and been delighted with his own sagacity.
Before the week ended, it was all disappointment. In the
(00:44):
first place, William was gone. The Thrush had had her orders,
the wind had changed, and he was sailed within four
days from their reaching Portsmouth. And during those days she
had seen him only twice, in a short and hurried way.
When he had come ashore on duty. There had been
no free conversation, no walk on the ramparts, no visit
to the dockyard, no acquaintance with the Thrush, nothing of
(01:07):
all that they had planned and depended on. Everything in
that quarter failed her except William's affection. His last thought
on leaving home was for her. He stepped back again
to the door to say, take care of Fanny, mother.
She is tender and not used to rough it like
the rest of us. I charge you take care of Fanny.
William was gone, and the home he had left her
(01:28):
in was Fanny could not conceal it from herself, in
almost every respect, the very reverse of what she could
have wished. It was the abode of noise, disorder, and impropriety.
Nobody was in their right place. Nothing was done as
it ought to be. She could not respect her parents
as she had hoped on her father, her confidence had
(01:49):
not been sanguine, but he was more negligent of his family.
His habits were worse and his manners coarser than she
had been prepared for. He did not want abilities, but
he had no curiosity and no information beyond his profession.
He read only the newspaper and the navy list. He
talked only of the dockyard, the harbor, spithead, and the motherbank.
(02:10):
He swore and he drank. He was dirty and gross.
She had never been able to recall anything approaching to tenderness.
In his former treatment of herself. There had remained only
a general impression of roughness and loudness, And now he
scarcely ever noticed her, but to make her the object
of a coarse joke. Her disappointment in her mother was greater. There.
(02:32):
She had hoped much and found almost nothing. Every flattering
scheme of being of consequence to her soon fell to
the ground. Missus Price was not unkind, but instead of
gaining on her affection and confidence, and becoming more and
more dear, her daughter never met with greater kindness from
her than on the first day of her arrival. The
(02:52):
instinct of nature was soon satisfied, and Missus Price's attachment
had no other source. Her heart and her time were
all ready quite full. She had neither leisure nor affection
to bestow on Fanny. Her daughters never had been much
to her. She was fond of her sons, especially of William,
But Betsy was the first of her girls whom she
had ever much regarded. To her, she was most injudiciously indulgent.
(03:17):
William was her pride, Betsy her darling, and John Richard,
Sam Tom and Charles occupied all the rest of her
maternal solicitude, alternately her worries and her comforts. These shared
her heart. Her time was given chiefly to her house
and her servants. Her days were spent in a kind
of slow bustle, always busy without getting on, always behindhand,
(03:40):
and lamenting it, without altering her ways, wishing to be
an economist without contrivance or regularity, dissatisfied with her servants,
without skill to make them better, and whether helping or
reprimanding or indulging them, without any power of engaging their respect.
Of her two sisters, Missus Price very much more resembled
(04:01):
Lady Bertram than Missus Norris. She was a manager by necessity,
without any of Missus Norris's inclination for it or any
of her activity. Her disposition was naturally easy and indolent,
like Lady Bertram's, and a situation of similar affluence and
do nothingness would have been much more suited to her
capacity than the exertions and self denials of the one
(04:23):
which her imprudent marriage had placed her in. She might
have made just as good a woman of consequence as
Lady Bertram, but Missus Norris would have been a more
respectable mother of nine children on a small income. Much
of all this Fanny could not but be sensible of.
She might scruple to make use of the words, but
she must, and did feel that her mother was a partial,
(04:45):
ill judging parent, a dawdle, a slattern, who neither taught
nor restrained her children, whose house was the scene of
mismanagement and discomfort from beginning to end, and who had
no talent, no conversation, no affection towards herself, no curiosity
to know her better, no desire of her friendship, and
no inclination for her company that could lessen her sense
(05:08):
of such feelings. Fanny was very anxious to be useful,
and not to appear above her home, or in any
way disqualified or disinclined by her foreign education from contributing
her help to its comforts, and therefore set about working
for Sam immediately, and by working early and late, with
perseverance and great dispatch, did so much that the boy
(05:29):
was shipped off at last with more than half his
linen ready. She had great pleasure in feeling her usefulness,
but could not conceive how they would have managed without her.
Sam loud and overbearing as he was, she rather regretted
when he went, for he was clever and intelligent, and
glad to be employed in any errand in the town.
And though spurning the remonstrances of Susan, given as they were,
(05:53):
though very reasonable in themselves, with ill timed and powerless
Warmth was beginning to be influenced by Fanny's service and
gentle persuasions, and she found that the best of the
three younger ones was gone in him. Tom and Charles,
being at least as many years as they were his juniors,
distant from that age of feeling and reason, which might
suggest the expediency of making friends and of endeavoring to
(06:16):
be less disagreeable. Their sister soon despaired of making the
smallest impression on them. They were quite untamable by any
means of address, which she had spirits or time to attempt.
Every afternoon brought a return of their riotous games all
over the house, and she very early learnt to sigh
at the approach of Saturday's constant half holiday. Betsy, too,
(06:38):
a spoilt child trained up to think the alphabet her
greatest enemy, left to be with the servants at her pleasure,
and that encouraged to report any evil of them, She
was almost as ready to despair of being able to
love or assist, and of Susan's temper. She had many doubts.
Her continual disagreements with her mother, her rash squabbles with
Tom and Charles, and with Betsy, were at least so
(07:02):
distressing to Fanny that, though admitting they were by no
means without provocation, she feared the disposition that could push
them to such length must be far from amiable and
from affording any repose to herself. Such was the home
which was to put Mansfield out of her head and
teach her to think of her cousin Edmund with moderated feelings.
(07:22):
On the contrary, she could think of nothing but Mansfield,
its beloved inmates, its happy ways. Everything where she was
now was in full contrast to it. The elegance, propriety, regularity, harmony,
and perhaps above all, the peace and tranquility of Mansfield
were brought to her remembrance every hour of the day
by the prevalence of everything opposite to them. Here, the
(07:45):
living and incessant noise was to a frame and temper
delicate and nervous like Fanny's, an evil which no superadded
elegance or harmony could have entirely atoned. For it was
the greatest misery of all. At Mansfield, no sounds of contention,
no raised voice, no abrupt bursts, no tread of violence
(08:06):
was ever heard. All proceeded in a regular course of
cheerful orderliness. Everybody had their due importance. Everybody's feelings were consulted,
if tenderness could be ever supposed, wanting, good sense and
good breeding supplied its place. And as to the little
irritations sometimes introduced by Aunt Norris, they were short, they
(08:27):
were trifling. They were as a drop of water to
the ocean compared with the ceaseless tumult of her present abode.
Here everybody was noisy, Every voice was loud, excepting perhaps
her mother's, which resembled the soft monotony of Lady Bertram's,
only worn into fretfulness. Whatever was wanted was hallooed for,
and the servants hallooed out their excuses from the kitchen.
(08:50):
The doors were in constant banging, the stairs were never
at rest. Nothing was done without a clatter. Nobody sat still,
and nobody could command attention when they spoke in a
review of the two houses as they appeared to her
before the end of a week. Fanny was tempted to
apply to them doctor Johnson's celebrated judgment as to matrimony
and celibacy, and say that though Mansfield Park might have
(09:14):
some pains, Portsmouth could have no pleasures. End of Chapter
thirty nine.
Chapter thirty nine. Could Sir Thomas have seen all his
niece's feelings when she wrote her first letter to her aunt,
he would not have despaired, for though a good night's rest,
a pleasant morning, the hope of soon seeing William again,
and the comparatively quiet state of the house from Tom
and Charles being gone to school, Sam on some project
of his own, and her father on his usual lounges,
(00:23):
enabled her to express herself cheerfully on the subject of home.
There were, still, to her own perfect consciousness, many drawbacks suppressed.
Could he have seen only half that she felt before
the end of a week, he would have thought mister
Crawford sure of her, and been delighted with his own sagacity.
Before the week ended, it was all disappointment. In the
(00:44):
first place, William was gone. The Thrush had had her orders,
the wind had changed, and he was sailed within four
days from their reaching Portsmouth. And during those days she
had seen him only twice, in a short and hurried way.
When he had come ashore on duty. There had been
no free conversation, no walk on the ramparts, no visit
to the dockyard, no acquaintance with the Thrush, nothing of
(01:07):
all that they had planned and depended on. Everything in
that quarter failed her except William's affection. His last thought
on leaving home was for her. He stepped back again
to the door to say, take care of Fanny, mother.
She is tender and not used to rough it like
the rest of us. I charge you take care of Fanny.
William was gone, and the home he had left her
(01:28):
in was Fanny could not conceal it from herself, in
almost every respect, the very reverse of what she could
have wished. It was the abode of noise, disorder, and impropriety.
Nobody was in their right place. Nothing was done as
it ought to be. She could not respect her parents
as she had hoped on her father, her confidence had
(01:49):
not been sanguine, but he was more negligent of his family.
His habits were worse and his manners coarser than she
had been prepared for. He did not want abilities, but
he had no curiosity and no information beyond his profession.
He read only the newspaper and the navy list. He
talked only of the dockyard, the harbor, spithead, and the motherbank.
(02:10):
He swore and he drank. He was dirty and gross.
She had never been able to recall anything approaching to tenderness.
In his former treatment of herself. There had remained only
a general impression of roughness and loudness, And now he
scarcely ever noticed her, but to make her the object
of a coarse joke. Her disappointment in her mother was greater. There.
(02:32):
She had hoped much and found almost nothing. Every flattering
scheme of being of consequence to her soon fell to
the ground. Missus Price was not unkind, but instead of
gaining on her affection and confidence, and becoming more and
more dear, her daughter never met with greater kindness from
her than on the first day of her arrival. The
(02:52):
instinct of nature was soon satisfied, and Missus Price's attachment
had no other source. Her heart and her time were
all ready quite full. She had neither leisure nor affection
to bestow on Fanny. Her daughters never had been much
to her. She was fond of her sons, especially of William,
But Betsy was the first of her girls whom she
had ever much regarded. To her, she was most injudiciously indulgent.
(03:17):
William was her pride, Betsy her darling, and John Richard,
Sam Tom and Charles occupied all the rest of her
maternal solicitude, alternately her worries and her comforts. These shared
her heart. Her time was given chiefly to her house
and her servants. Her days were spent in a kind
of slow bustle, always busy without getting on, always behindhand,
(03:40):
and lamenting it, without altering her ways, wishing to be
an economist without contrivance or regularity, dissatisfied with her servants,
without skill to make them better, and whether helping or
reprimanding or indulging them, without any power of engaging their respect.
Of her two sisters, Missus Price very much more resembled
(04:01):
Lady Bertram than Missus Norris. She was a manager by necessity,
without any of Missus Norris's inclination for it or any
of her activity. Her disposition was naturally easy and indolent,
like Lady Bertram's, and a situation of similar affluence and
do nothingness would have been much more suited to her
capacity than the exertions and self denials of the one
(04:23):
which her imprudent marriage had placed her in. She might
have made just as good a woman of consequence as
Lady Bertram, but Missus Norris would have been a more
respectable mother of nine children on a small income. Much
of all this Fanny could not but be sensible of.
She might scruple to make use of the words, but
she must, and did feel that her mother was a partial,
(04:45):
ill judging parent, a dawdle, a slattern, who neither taught
nor restrained her children, whose house was the scene of
mismanagement and discomfort from beginning to end, and who had
no talent, no conversation, no affection towards herself, no curiosity
to know her better, no desire of her friendship, and
no inclination for her company that could lessen her sense
(05:08):
of such feelings. Fanny was very anxious to be useful,
and not to appear above her home, or in any
way disqualified or disinclined by her foreign education from contributing
her help to its comforts, and therefore set about working
for Sam immediately, and by working early and late, with
perseverance and great dispatch, did so much that the boy
(05:29):
was shipped off at last with more than half his
linen ready. She had great pleasure in feeling her usefulness,
but could not conceive how they would have managed without her.
Sam loud and overbearing as he was, she rather regretted
when he went, for he was clever and intelligent, and
glad to be employed in any errand in the town.
And though spurning the remonstrances of Susan, given as they were,
(05:53):
though very reasonable in themselves, with ill timed and powerless
Warmth was beginning to be influenced by Fanny's service and
gentle persuasions, and she found that the best of the
three younger ones was gone in him. Tom and Charles,
being at least as many years as they were his juniors,
distant from that age of feeling and reason, which might
suggest the expediency of making friends and of endeavoring to
(06:16):
be less disagreeable. Their sister soon despaired of making the
smallest impression on them. They were quite untamable by any
means of address, which she had spirits or time to attempt.
Every afternoon brought a return of their riotous games all
over the house, and she very early learnt to sigh
at the approach of Saturday's constant half holiday. Betsy, too,
(06:38):
a spoilt child trained up to think the alphabet her
greatest enemy, left to be with the servants at her pleasure,
and that encouraged to report any evil of them, She
was almost as ready to despair of being able to
love or assist, and of Susan's temper. She had many doubts.
Her continual disagreements with her mother, her rash squabbles with
Tom and Charles, and with Betsy, were at least so
(07:02):
distressing to Fanny that, though admitting they were by no
means without provocation, she feared the disposition that could push
them to such length must be far from amiable and
from affording any repose to herself. Such was the home
which was to put Mansfield out of her head and
teach her to think of her cousin Edmund with moderated feelings.
(07:22):
On the contrary, she could think of nothing but Mansfield,
its beloved inmates, its happy ways. Everything where she was
now was in full contrast to it. The elegance, propriety, regularity, harmony,
and perhaps above all, the peace and tranquility of Mansfield
were brought to her remembrance every hour of the day
by the prevalence of everything opposite to them. Here, the
(07:45):
living and incessant noise was to a frame and temper
delicate and nervous like Fanny's, an evil which no superadded
elegance or harmony could have entirely atoned. For it was
the greatest misery of all. At Mansfield, no sounds of contention,
no raised voice, no abrupt bursts, no tread of violence
(08:06):
was ever heard. All proceeded in a regular course of
cheerful orderliness. Everybody had their due importance. Everybody's feelings were consulted,
if tenderness could be ever supposed, wanting, good sense and
good breeding supplied its place. And as to the little
irritations sometimes introduced by Aunt Norris, they were short, they
(08:27):
were trifling. They were as a drop of water to
the ocean compared with the ceaseless tumult of her present abode.
Here everybody was noisy, Every voice was loud, excepting perhaps
her mother's, which resembled the soft monotony of Lady Bertram's,
only worn into fretfulness. Whatever was wanted was hallooed for,
and the servants hallooed out their excuses from the kitchen.
(08:50):
The doors were in constant banging, the stairs were never
at rest. Nothing was done without a clatter. Nobody sat still,
and nobody could command attention when they spoke in a
review of the two houses as they appeared to her
before the end of a week. Fanny was tempted to
apply to them doctor Johnson's celebrated judgment as to matrimony
and celibacy, and say that though Mansfield Park might have
(09:14):
some pains, Portsmouth could have no pleasures. End of Chapter
thirty nine.
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