Elizabeth & Darcy | Their Love Story (pride and prejudice)

Miss Eliza. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosics with the single object of seeing you. I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectation, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance, all these things. And I'm willing to put them aside and ask you to end my agony. I don't understand. I love you. Please do me the honor of accepting my hand. Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done. Is this your reply? Yes, sir. Are you... are you laughing at me? No. Are you rejecting me? I'm sure that the feelings which have befold me have hindered your regard, will help you in overcoming it. Might I ask why, with so little endeavor and civility, I am thus repulsed? And I might as well inquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me that you like me against your better judgment. No, believe me, I didn't mean... If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse. But I have other reasons, you know I have. What reasons? Do you think that anything might tempt me to accept a man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of her most beloved sister? Do you deny it, Mr. Darcy, that you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to the censure of the wealth of a caprice, and my sister to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind? I do not deny it. So this is your opinion of me. Thank you for explaining so fully. Perhaps these offenses might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by my honesty in admitting scruples about our relationship. Did you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority in your circumstances? 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. Mr. Darcy is not to be teased. You're too proud, Mr. Darcy. Would you consider pride a fault or a virtue? That I couldn't say. Because we're doing our best to find a fault in you. Maybe it's that I find it hard to forgive the follies and vices of others, or their offenses against me. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever. Oh dear, I cannot tease you about that. What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh. A family trait, I think. I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away laugh. I thought that poetry was the food of laugh. Of a fine stout love, it may. But if it is only a vague inclination, I'm convinced one poor sonnet will kill its stone dead. So what do you recommend? Would you encourage affection? Dancing. Even if one's partner is barely tolerable. Why do you ask such a question? To make out your character, Mr. Darcy. What have you discovered? Very little. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly. I hope to afford you more clarity in the future. Forgive me, madam, for taking up so much of your time. You really care to know? Prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time I saw him at the assembly, he danced with nobody at all. Even though gentlemen were scarce, and there was more than one young lady sitting down without a partner. I knew nobody beyond my own party. Oh, and nobody can be introduced in a ballroom. You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all your state to hear me? But I won't be alarmed, even if your sister does play so well. I am well enough acquainted with you, Miss Elizabeth, to know that I cannot alarm you, even should I wish it. It is lost forever. If only I had exposed Wickham when I should. No. No, this is my fault. I ought to have prevented all this, mainly by being open with my sisters. My father has gone to London. But I know very well that nothing can be done. We have not the smallest hope. Would I could help you? Sir, I think it is too late. This is grave, indeed. I will leave you. Goodbye. I'm afraid. After what you have done for me, and I suspect for Jane also, it is I who should be making amends. You must know. Surely you must know it was all for you. You are too generous to travel with me. I believe you spoke with my aunt and has taught me to hope, as I had 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 would have to tell you, you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love and love and never wish to be parted from you from this day on.