A series of traveling shots. A well-dressed, pompous-looking
individual (JOHN DASHWOOD, 35) is making an urgent journey
on horseback. He looks anxious.
Silence. Norland Park, a large country house built in the
early part of the eighteenth century, lies in the moonlit
parkland.
In the dim light shed by candles we see a bed in which a MAN
(MR DASHWOOD, 52) lies his skin waxy, his breathing laboured.
Around him two silhouettes move and murmur, their clothing
susurrating in the deathly hush. DOCTORS. A WOMAN (MRS DASHWOOD, 50)
sits by his side, holding his hand, her eyes
never leaving his face.
(urgent)
Is John not yet arrived?
We expect him at any moment, dearest.
MR DASHWOOD looks anguished.
The girls--I have left so little.
Shh, hush, Henry.
Elinor will try to look after you
all, but make sure she finds a good
husband. The men are such noodles
hereabouts, little wonder none has
pleased her.
They smile at each other. MRS DASHWOOD is just managing to
conceal her fear and grief
But Marianne is sure to find her
storybook hero.
A romantic poet with flashing eyes
and empty pockets?
As long as she loves him, whoever he is.