Mr. Yates, a friend of Tom Bertram’s, comes for a visit and proposes that they all entertain themselves by putting on a play. This strikes Edmund and Fanny as disrespectful to Sir Thomas, especially considering that the play chosen, Lovers' Vows, (a real play whose text is available on the internet) is about a woman who has an illegitimate child. Sir Thomas would not want his virginal daughters portraying such a woman, nor the part of Amelia, a bold flirt.
The others disregard Edmund’s warnings, and set about casting the parts of the play, which has two storylines—one melodramatic and one comic. Both Maria and Julia want to play the dramatic part of Agatha, but there can only be one; Maria is chosen—she will play scenes with Henry Crawford (who is playing the part of her son, not her lover) to Julia’s jealousy and chagrin. Mr. Yates will play the sadder but wiser Baron who regrets having seduced Agatha in his youth; plodding Mr. Rushworth is miscast as Count Cassel, an over-the-top Don Juan who boasts of his conquests. Tom Bertram will play the Butler, a comic relief character, and petite, sprightly Mary Crawford is well cast as the saucy Amelia in the comic storyline. Naturally she wants Edmund to take the part of her lover, but can she overcome his scruples?
As the variation begins, 18-year-old Fanny is being pressed to take one of the minor roles in the play. Leading up to this evening, Fanny has been tormented by watching Edmund fall in love with Mary Crawford, while Aunt Norris has been ordering her around and belittling her as usual.
Author’s Note
I have placed the foreword at the end of the book for the convenience of readers who wish to skip past it and get to the story.
As the story begins, I have interspersed some of Jane Austen’s writing and she is occasionally quoted throughout the book.
Chapter One
True courage is like a kite; a contrary wind raises it higher.
Jean Antoine Petit-Senn (1792-1870)
Mansfield Park, October 1808
“Fanny,” her cousin Tom called from the other side of the parlour, “we want your services.”
Fanny laid down her sewing and was up in a moment, expecting some errand.
“Oh! we do not want to disturb you now. We do not want your present services. We shall only want you in our play. You must be Cottager's Wife.”
“Me!” cried Fanny, stopping in mid-step. “Indeed you must excuse me. I could not act anything if you were to give me the world. No, indeed, I cannot act.”
“Indeed but you must,” her cousin returned with a smile, “for we cannot excuse you. It need not frighten you: it is a nothing of a part, a mere nothing, not above half-a-dozen speeches altogether.”
“It is not that I am afraid of learning by heart,” said Fanny, blushing to find herself at that moment the only speaker in the room, and to know that everyone—her cousins, their four guests and worst of all, her Aunt Norris—was looking at her, “but I really cannot act.”
“Phoo! Phoo! You'll do it very well. We do not expect perfection. You must get a brown gown, and a white apron, and a mob cap, and we must make you a few wrinkles, and a little of the crows-foot at the corner of your eyes, and you will be a very proper, little old woman.”
“Oh Fanny, pray don’t be so anxious about it,” added her cousin Maria. “Mr. Crawford and I portray the leading characters, you need only support us.”
“Yours is a very trifling part,” Maria’s fiancé Mr. Rushworth put in. “Whilst I must come in three times, you know, and have two-and-forty speeches. That's something, is not it? But I do not much like the idea of being so fine. I shall hardly know myself in a pink satin cloak.”
“And here, I suspect, is the true reason for Miss Price’s reluctance,” said Tom’s friend Mr. Yates. “I fancy that she doesn’t care to yield the honours of the pink satin to Mr. Rushworth, and be forced to grace the stage dressed in peasant rags and a mob cap. I can understand your feelings very well, Miss Price, and I will be your champion. I shan’t let anyone paint crow’s feet around those soft blue eyes. What say you to appearing as a little shepherdess or a milkmaid? You will look very fetching indeed, and who will object if Cottager’s wife is young enough to be his granddaughter?”
“We will do everything in our power to make you as comfortable as possible, Miss Price,” said their guest Henry Crawford, rising from his chair to make a half bow, accompanied by his most engaging smile. “Permit me to read your part aloud to you, by way of supplying you with a friendly hint as to how to perform it. All you need do is to imitate my—”
“That is a capital notion, Crawford,” exclaimed Mr. Yates. “Miss Price, I can exactly mimic the role, as it was performed by the governess at Ecclesford. Simply follow my example.”
“Here—here—Fanny,” cried Tom, pushing an open manuscript across the table toward her. “You need only enter and say: here's a piece of work indeed about nothing!”
“What a piece of work here is about nothing!” exclaimed her Aunt Norris, no longer able to contain
