Deborah Moggach

You must know... surely, you must know it was all for you. You are too generous to trifle with me. I believe you spoke with my aunt last night, and it has taught me to hope as I'd scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love--I love--I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

Miss Elizabeth. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you… I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony.

So this is your opinion of me. Thank you for explaining so fully. Perhaps these offences might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by my honesty…

...in admitting scruples about our relationship. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?

Either you are in each other's confidence and have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage by walking. If the first, I should get in your way. If the second, I can admire you much better from here.

I am well enough acquainted with you, Miss Elizabeth, to know that I can not alarm you, even should I wish it.

You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.

Thoroughly tolerable, I daresay, but not handsome enough to tempt me. You'd better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles. You're wasting your time with me.

Only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony, which is why I will end up an old maid.

And that put paid to it. I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?

Of a fine stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination I'm convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead

Dancing. Even if one's partner is barely tolerable.

And those are the words of a gentleman. From the first moment I met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realize that you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry.

He's been a fool about so many things, about Jane, and others... but then, so have I. You see, he and I are so similar.

No... No, I prefer to be unsociable and taciturn... Makes it all so much more enjoyable, don't you think?

Do these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are they the result of previous study?

Oh, believe me, no one would suspect your manners to be rehearsed.

He is not proud. I was wrong, I was entirely wrong about him. You don't know him, Papa. If I told you what he's really like, what he's done.

Yes, we often walk to Meryton. It's a great opportunity to meet new people. In fact, when you met us, we'd just had the pleasure of forming a new acquaintance.

He's been so unfortunate as to lose your friendship. I dare say that is an irreversible event.

To make out your character.

If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse. But I have other reasons, you know I have.

Do you think anything might tempt me to accept the hand of the man who has ruined, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister? Do you deny that you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to censure of the world for caprice and my sister to derision for disappointed hopes, involving them both in misery of the acutest kind?

Believe me. Men are either eaten up with arrogance or stupidity. If they are amiable, they are so easily led they have no minds of their own whatsoever.

Jane, he danced with you most of the night and stared at you for the rest of it. But I give you leave to like him. You've liked great deal a stupider person. You're a great deal too apt to like people in general, you know. All the world is good and agreeable in your eyes.

Mr. Darcy? I could more easily forgive his vanity had he not wounded mine. But no matter. I doubt we shall ever speak again.

Sir, I am honored by your proposal, but I regret that I must decline it.

Mr Collins, I am perfectly serious. You could not make me happy. And I'm the last woman in the world who could make you happy.

I am not the sort of female to torment a respectable man. Please understand me, I cannot accept you.