- As everyone has their favourites when it comes to screen adaptations of Austen novels, the adaptations featured in this compilation have been chosen on the basis of the extent of faithfulness to the scene as described in the books. - For the sake of consistency in tone and visual aesthetic across the scenes, only the adaptations from '90s and later were considered. - For PRIDE & PREJUDICE, PERSUASION and NORTHANGER ABBEY, the selection was straight-forward. For the the first two, the 1995 adaptations depicted the scene most faithfully, while for NORTHANGER ABBEY there is only the 2007 ITV movie to pick after the '90s. - For SENSE & SENSIBILITY, the scene from the 1995 movie was picked as its counterpart from the 2008 adaptation is copyright blocked in RUclips. - The choice for EMMA was a little hard as there are FOUR modern adaptations to choose from. However, the 1996 ITV movie starring Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong was a bit more faithful than the rest in the setting of the scene and the dialogues (except, perhaps, a certain dialogue at the end of the scene which some viewers might find awkward). - As for MANSFIELD PARK, Austen does not describe the proposal scene in the book and the choice was between 1999 and 2007 movies. The scene from the 1999 movie was picked as it had Austen's lines as voice-over at the beginning. I hope you would enjoy watching this video! 🙂
*NORTHANGER ABBEY* _Mrs. Morland.. seeing, in her daughter’s absent and dissatisfied look, the full proof of that repining spirit to which she had now begun to attribute her want of cheerfulness, hastily left the room to fetch the book in question, anxious to lose no time in attacking so dreadful a malady. It was some time before she could find what she looked for; and other family matters occurring to detain her, a quarter of an hour had elapsed ere she returned downstairs with the volume from which so much was hoped. Her avocations above having shut out all noise but what she created herself, she knew not that a visitor had arrived within the last few minutes, till, on entering the room, the first object she beheld was a young man whom she had never seen before. With a look of much respect, he immediately rose, and being introduced to her by her conscious daughter as “Mr. Henry Tilney,” with the embarrassment of real sensibility began to apologize for his appearance there, acknowledging that after what had passed he had little right to expect a welcome at Fullerton, and stating his impatience to be assured of Miss Morland’s having reached her home in safety, as the cause of his intrusion. He did not address himself to an uncandid judge or a resentful heart. Far from comprehending him or his sister in their father’s misconduct, Mrs. Morland had been always kindly disposed towards each, and instantly, pleased by his appearance, received him with the simple professions of unaffected benevolence; thanking him for such an attention to her daughter, assuring him that the friends of her children were always welcome there, and entreating him to say not another word of the past._ _He was not ill-inclined to obey this request, for, though his heart was greatly relieved by such unlooked-for mildness, it was not just at that moment in his power to say anything to the purpose. Returning in silence to his seat, therefore, he remained for some minutes most civilly answering all Mrs. Morland’s common remarks about the weather and roads. Catherine meanwhile-the anxious, agitated, happy, feverish Catherine-said not a word; but her glowing cheek and brightened eye made her mother trust that this good-natured visit would at least set her heart at ease for a time.._ _..After a couple of minutes’ unbroken silence, Henry, turning to Catherine for the first time since her mother’s entrance, asked her, with sudden alacrity, if Mr. and Mrs. Allen were now at Fullerton? And on developing, from amidst all her perplexity of words in reply, the meaning, which one short syllable would have given, immediately expressed his intention of paying his respects to them, and, with a rising colour, asked her if she would have the goodness to show him the way. “You may see the house from this window, sir,” was information on Sarah’s side, which produced only a bow of acknowledgment from the gentleman, and a silencing nod from her mother; for Mrs. Morland, thinking it probable, as a secondary consideration in his wish of waiting on their worthy neighbours, that he might have some explanation to give of his father’s behaviour, which it must be more pleasant for him to communicate only to Catherine, would not on any account prevent her accompanying him. They began their walk, and Mrs. Morland was not entirely mistaken in his object in wishing it. Some explanation on his father’s account he had to give; but his first purpose was to explain himself, and before they reached Mr. Allen’s grounds he had done it so well that Catherine did not think it could ever be repeated too often. She was assured of his affection; and that heart in return was solicited, which, perhaps, they pretty equally knew was already entirely his own; for, though Henry was now sincerely attached to her, though he felt and delighted in all the excellencies of her character and truly loved her society, I must confess that his affection originated in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of an heroine’s dignity; but if it be as new in common life, the credit of a wild imagination will at least be all my own._ _A very short visit to Mrs. Allen, in which Henry talked at random, without sense or connection, and Catherine, wrapt in the contemplation of her own unutterable happiness, scarcely opened her lips, dismissed them to the ecstasies of another tête-à-tête; and before it was suffered to close, she was enabled to judge how far he was sanctioned by parental authority in his present application. On his return from Woodston, two days before, he had been met near the abbey by his impatient father, hastily informed in angry terms of Miss Morland’s departure, and ordered to think of her no more._ _Such was the permission upon which he had now offered her his hand. The affrighted Catherine, amidst all the terrors of expectation, as she listened to this account, could not but rejoice in the kind caution with which Henry had saved her from the necessity of a conscientious rejection, by engaging her faith before he mentioned the subject; and as he proceeded to give the particulars, and explain the motives of his father’s conduct, her feelings soon hardened into even a triumphant delight. The general had had nothing to accuse her of, nothing to lay to her charge, but her being the involuntary, unconscious object of a deception which his pride could not pardon, and which a better pride would have been ashamed to own. She was guilty only of being less rich than he had supposed her to be.._ _John Thorpe had first misled him. The general, perceiving his son one night at the theatre to be paying considerable attention to Miss Morland, had accidentally inquired of Thorpe if he knew more of her than her name. Thorpe, most happy to be on speaking terms with a man of General Tilney’s importance, had been joyfully and proudly communicative; and being at that time not only in daily expectation of Morland’s engaging Isabella, but likewise pretty well resolved upon marrying Catherine himself, his vanity induced him to represent the family as yet more wealthy than his vanity and avarice had made him believe them.._ _Mr. and Mrs. Morland’s surprise on being applied to by Mr. Tilney for their consent to his marrying their daughter was, for a few minutes, considerable, it having never entered their heads to suspect an attachment on either side; but as nothing, after all, could be more natural than Catherine’s being beloved, they soon learnt to consider it with only the happy agitation of gratified pride, and, as far as they alone were concerned, had not a single objection to start.._ _There was but one obstacle, in short, to be mentioned; but till that one was removed, it must be impossible for them to sanction the engagement. Their tempers were mild, but their principles were steady, and while his parent so expressly forbade the connection, they could not allow themselves to encourage it. That the general should come forward to solicit the alliance, or that he should even very heartily approve it, they were not refined enough to make any parading stipulation; but the decent appearance of consent must be yielded, and that once obtained-and their own hearts made them trust that it could not be very long denied-their willing approbation was instantly to follow. His consent was all that they wished for.._ _..Henry returned to what was now his only home, to watch over his young plantations, and extend his improvements for her sake, to whose share in them he looked anxiously forward; and Catherine remained at Fullerton to cry. Whether the torments of absence were softened by a clandestine correspondence, let us not inquire. Mr. and Mrs. Morland never did-they had been too kind to exact any promise; and whenever Catherine received a letter, as, at that time, happened pretty often, they always looked another way._ _..The means by which their early marriage was effected can be the only doubt: what probable circumstance could work upon a temper like the General’s? The circumstance which chiefly availed was the marriage of his daughter with a man of fortune and consequence, which took place in the course of the summer-an accession of dignity that threw him into a fit of good humour, from which he did not recover till after Eleanor had obtained his forgiveness of Henry, and his permission for him “to be a fool if he liked it!”_ _..On the strength of this, the general, soon after Eleanor’s marriage, permitted his son to return to Northanger, and thence made him the bearer of his consent, very courteously worded in a page full of empty professions to Mr. Morland. The event which it authorized soon followed: Henry and Catherine were married, the bells rang, and everybody smiled; and, as this took place within a twelvemonth from the first day of their meeting, it will not appear, after all the dreadful delays occasioned by the General’s cruelty, that they were essentially hurt by it. To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty-six and eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself moreover convinced that the General’s unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience._ *_Northanger Abbey, Chapters 30 & 31_*
*SENSE & SENSIBILITY* _Elinor now found the difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, and certainty itself. She now found, that in spite of herself, she had always admitted a hope, while Edward remained single, that something would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy.. But he was now married.._ _..“When do you write to Colonel Brandon, ma’am?” was an inquiry which sprung from the impatience of her mind to have something going on._ _“I wrote to him, my love, last week, and rather expect to see, than to hear from him again. I earnestly pressed his coming to us, and should not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day.”_ _This was gaining something, something to look forward to.._ _Scarcely had she so determined it, when the figure of a man on horseback drew her eyes to the window. He stopt at their gate. It was a gentleman, it was Colonel Brandon himself. Now she could hear more; and she trembled in expectation of it. But it was not Colonel Brandon; neither his air, nor his height. Were it possible, she must say it must be Edward. She looked again. He had just dismounted: she could not be mistaken,-it was Edward. She moved away and sat down. “He comes from Mr. Pratt’s purposely to see us. I will be calm; I will be mistress of myself.”_ _..She saw her mother and Marianne change colour; saw them look at herself, and whisper a few sentences to each other. She would have given the world to be able to speak-and to make them understand that she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear in their behaviour to him;-but she had no utterance, and was obliged to leave all to their own discretion._ _..They all waited in silence for the appearance of their visitor. His footsteps were heard along the gravel path; in a moment he was in the passage, and in another he was before them._ _His countenance, as he entered the room, was not too happy, even for Elinor. His complexion was white with agitation, and he looked as if fearful of his reception, and conscious that he merited no kind one. Mrs. Dashwood, however, conforming, as she trusted, to the wishes of that daughter, by whom she then meant in the warmth of her heart to be guided in every thing, met him with a look of forced complacency, gave him her hand, and wished him joy._ _He coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. Elinor’s lips had moved with her mother’s, and, when the moment of action was over, she wished that she had shaken hands with him too. But it was then too late, and with a countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again and talked of the weather._ _Marianne had retreated as much as possible out of sight, to conceal her distress; and Margaret, understanding some part, but not the whole of the case, thought it incumbent on her to be dignified, and therefore took a seat as far from him as she could, and maintained a strict silence._ _When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season, a very awful pause took place. It was put an end to by Mrs. Dashwood, who felt obliged to hope that he had left Mrs. Ferrars very well. In a hurried manner, he replied in the affirmative._ _Another pause._ _Elinor resolving to exert herself, though fearing the sound of her own voice, now said,_ _“Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?”_ _“At Longstaple!” he replied, with an air of surprise. “No, my mother is in town.”_ _“I meant,” said Elinor, taking up some work from the table, “to enquire for Mrs. Edward Ferrars.”_ _She dared not look up;-but her mother and Marianne both turned their eyes on him. He coloured, seemed perplexed, looked doubtingly, and, after some hesitation, said,-_ _“Perhaps you mean-my brother-you mean Mrs.-Mrs. Robert Ferrars.”_ _“Mrs. Robert Ferrars!” was repeated by Marianne and her mother in an accent of the utmost amazement; and though Elinor could not speak, even her eyes were fixed on him with the same impatient wonder. He rose from his seat, and walked to the window, apparently from not knowing what to do; took up a pair of scissors that lay there, and while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to pieces as he spoke, said, in a hurried voice,-_ _“Perhaps you do not know: you may not have heard that my brother is lately married to-to the youngest-to Miss Lucy Steele.”_ _His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but Elinor, who sat with her head leaning over her work, in a state of such agitation as made her hardly know where she was._ _“Yes,” said he, “they were married last week, and are now at Dawlish.”_ _Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw-or even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, quitted the room, and walked out towards the village-leaving the others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his situation, so wonderful and so sudden.._ _Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his release might appear to the whole family, it was certain that Edward was free; and to what purpose that freedom would be employed was easily pre-determined by all;-for after experiencing the blessings of one imprudent engagement, contracted without his mother’s consent, as he had already done for more than four years, nothing less could be expected of him in the failure of that, than the immediate contraction of another._ _His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. It was only to ask Elinor to marry him;-and considering that he was not altogether inexperienced in such a question, it might be strange that he should feel so uncomfortable in the present case as he really did, so much in need of encouragement and fresh air._ _How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly told.._ _His heart was now open to Elinor, all its weaknesses, all its errors confessed, and his first boyish attachment to Lucy treated with all the philosophic dignity of twenty-four._ _“It was a foolish, idle inclination on my side,” said he, “the consequence of ignorance of the world, and want of employment. Had my mother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen from the care of Mr. Pratt, I think, nay, I am sure, it would never have happened; for though I left Longstaple with what I thought, at the time, a most unconquerable preference for his niece, yet had I then had any pursuit, any object to engage my time and keep me at a distance from her for a few months, I should very soon have outgrown the fancied attachment, especially by mixing more with the world, as in such case I must have done. But instead of having any thing to do, instead of having any profession chosen for me, or being allowed to chuse any myself, I returned home to be completely idle; and for the first twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment, which belonging to the university would have given me; for I was not entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. I had therefore nothing in the world to do, but to fancy myself in love; and as my mother did not make my home in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, no companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, it was not unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, where I always felt myself at home, and was always sure of a welcome; and accordingly I spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen: Lucy appeared everything that was amiable and obliging. She was pretty too-at least I thought so then; and I had seen so little of other women, that I could make no comparisons, and see no defects. Considering everything, therefore, I hope, foolish as our engagement was, foolish as it has since in every way been proved, it was not at the time an unnatural or an inexcusable piece of folly.”_ _The change which a few hours had wrought in the minds and the happiness of the Dashwoods, was such-so great-as promised them all, the satisfaction of a sleepless night. Mrs. Dashwood, too happy to be comfortable, knew not how to love Edward, nor praise Elinor enough, how to be enough thankful for his release without wounding his delicacy, nor how at once to give them leisure for unrestrained conversation together, and yet enjoy, as she wished, the sight and society of both._ _Marianne could speak her happiness only by tears. Comparisons would occur-regrets would arise; and her joy, though sincere as her love for her sister, was of a kind to give her neither spirits nor language._ _But Elinor-how are her feelings to be described? From the moment of learning that Lucy was married to another, that Edward was free, to the moment of his justifying the hopes which had so instantly followed, she was every thing by turns but tranquil. But when the second moment had passed, when she found every doubt, every solicitude removed, compared her situation with what so lately it had been,-saw him honourably released from his former engagement,-saw him instantly profiting by the release, to address herself and declare an affection as tender, as constant as she had ever supposed it to be,-she was oppressed, she was overcome by her own felicity; and happily disposed as is the human mind to be easily familiarized with any change for the better, it required several hours to give sedateness to her spirits, or any degree of tranquillity to her heart._ *_Sense & Sensibility, Chapters 48 & 49_*
*PRIDE & PREJUDICE* _Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s visit. The gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same._ _They walked towards the Lucases’, because Kitty wished to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was high, she immediately said,-_ _“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”_ _“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”_ _“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.”_ _“If you will thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.”_ _Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”_ _Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of feelings which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable._ _They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship’s apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise._ _“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly.”_ _Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations.”_ _“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”_ _“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”_ _“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”_ _“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way.”_ _“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me.”_ _“Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”_ _Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he,-“did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?”_ _She explained what its effects on her had been, and how gradually all her former prejudices had been removed._ _“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part, especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.”_ _“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies.”_ _“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit.”_ _“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”_ _“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of ignorance. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves, (my father particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable,) allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”_ _..After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that it was time to be at home._ *_Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 58_*
*MANSFIELD PARK* _Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everybody, not greatly in fault themselves, to tolerable comfort, and to have done with all the rest._ _My Fanny, indeed, at this very time, I have the satisfaction of knowing, must have been happy in spite of everything. She must have been a happy creature in spite of all that she felt, or thought she felt, for the distress of those around her. She had sources of delight that must force their way. She was returned to Mansfield Park, she was useful, she was beloved; she was safe from Mr. Crawford; and when Sir Thomas came back she had every proof that could be given in his then melancholy state of spirits, of his perfect approbation and increased regard; and happy as all this must make her, she would still have been happy without any of it, for Edmund was no longer the dupe of Miss Crawford._ _It is true that Edmund was very far from happy himself. He was suffering from disappointment and regret, grieving over what was, and wishing for what could never be. She knew it was so, and was sorry; but it was with a sorrow so founded on satisfaction, so tending to ease, and so much in harmony with every dearest sensation, that there are few who might not have been glad to exchange their greatest gaiety for it._ _..He (Edmund) had not to wait and wish with vacant affections for an object worthy to succeed her in them. Scarcely had he done regretting Mary Crawford, and observing to Fanny how impossible it was that he should ever meet with such another woman, before it began to strike him whether a very different kind of woman might not do just as well, or a great deal better: whether Fanny herself were not growing as dear, as important to him in all her smiles and all her ways, as Mary Crawford had ever been; and whether it might not be a possible, a hopeful undertaking to persuade her that her warm and sisterly regard for him would be foundation enough for wedded love._ _I purposely abstain from dates on this occasion, that every one may be at liberty to fix their own, aware that the cure of unconquerable passions, and the transfer of unchanging attachments, must vary much as to time in different people. I only entreat everybody to believe that exactly at the time when it was quite natural that it should be so, and not a week earlier, Edmund did cease to care about Miss Crawford, and became as anxious to marry Fanny as Fanny herself could desire._ _With such a regard for her, indeed, as his had long been, a regard founded on the most endearing claims of innocence and helplessness, and completed by every recommendation of growing worth, what could be more natural than the change? Loving, guiding, protecting her, as he had been doing ever since her being ten years old, her mind in so great a degree formed by his care, and her comfort depending on his kindness, an object to him of such close and peculiar interest, dearer by all his own importance with her than any one else at Mansfield, what was there now to add, but that he should learn to prefer soft light eyes to sparkling dark ones. And being always with her, and always talking confidentially, and his feelings exactly in that favourable state which a recent disappointment gives, those soft light eyes could not be very long in obtaining the pre-eminence._ _Having once set out, and felt that he had done so on this road to happiness, there was nothing on the side of prudence to stop him or make his progress slow; no doubts of her deserving, no fears of opposition of taste, no need of drawing new hopes of happiness from dissimilarity of temper. Her mind, disposition, opinions, and habits wanted no half-concealment, no self-deception on the present, no reliance on future improvement. Even in the midst of his late infatuation, he had acknowledged Fanny’s mental superiority. What must be his sense of it now, therefore? She was of course only too good for him; but as nobody minds having what is too good for them, he was very steadily earnest in the pursuit of the blessing, and it was not possible that encouragement from her should be long wanting. Timid, anxious, doubting as she was, it was still impossible that such tenderness as hers should not, at times, hold out the strongest hope of success, though it remained for a later period to tell him the whole delightful and astonishing truth. His happiness in knowing himself to have been so long the beloved of such a heart, must have been great enough to warrant any strength of language in which he could clothe it to her or to himself; it must have been a delightful happiness. But there was happiness elsewhere which no description can reach. Let no one presume to give the feelings of a young woman on receiving the assurance of that affection of which she has scarcely allowed herself to entertain a hope._ *_Mansfield Park, Chapter 48_*
*EMMA* _..she (Emma) lost no time in hurrying into the shrubbery.-There, with spirits freshened, and thoughts a little relieved, she had taken a few turns, when she saw Mr. Knightley passing through the garden door, and coming towards her.-It was the first intimation of his being returned from London. She had been thinking of him the moment before, as unquestionably sixteen miles distant.-There was time only for the quickest arrangement of mind. She must be collected and calm. In half a minute they were together. The “How d’ye do’s” were quiet and constrained on each side. She asked after their mutual friends; they were all well.-When had he left them?-Only that morning. He must have had a wet ride.-Yes.-He meant to walk with her, she found.._ _They walked together. He was silent.. She considered-resolved-and, trying to smile, began-_ _“You have some news to hear, now you are come back, that will rather surprize you.”_ _“Have I?” said he quietly, and looking at her; “of what nature?”_ _“Oh! the best nature in the world-a wedding.”_ _After waiting a moment, as if to be sure she intended to say no more, he replied,_ _“If you mean Miss Fairfax and Frank Churchill, I have heard that already.”_ _“How is it possible?” cried Emma, turning her glowing cheeks towards him; for, while she spoke, it occurred to her that he might have called at Mrs. Goddard’s in his way._ _“I had a few lines on parish business from Mr. Weston this morning, and at the end of them he gave me a brief account of what had happened.”_ _Emma was quite relieved, and could presently say, with a little more composure,_ _“You probably have been less surprized than any of us, for you have had your suspicions.-I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution.-I wish I had attended to it-but-(with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh) I seem to have been doomed to blindness.”_ _For a moment or two nothing was said, and she was unsuspicious of having excited any particular interest, till she found her arm drawn within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low,_ _“Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.-Your own excellent sense-your exertions for your father’s sake-I know you will not allow yourself-.” Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued accent, “The feelings of the warmest friendship-Indignation-Abominable scoundrel!”-And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, “He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for her. She deserves a better fate.”_ _Emma understood him; and as soon as she could recover from the flutter of pleasure, excited by such tender consideration, replied,_ _“You are very kind-but you are mistaken-and I must set you right.- I am not in want of that sort of compassion. My blindness to what was going on, led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of, and I was very foolishly tempted to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures, but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier.. I have very little to say for my own conduct.-I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.-An old story, probably-a common case-and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before.. I always found him very pleasant-and, in short, for (with a sigh) let me swell out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last-my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however-for some time, indeed-I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another.-It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself-except that I was not blinded-that it was my good fortune-that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him.”_ _..“He is a most fortunate man!” returned Mr. Knightley, with energy. “So early in life-at three-and-twenty-a period when, if a man chuses a wife, he generally chuses ill. At three-and-twenty to have drawn such a prize! What years of felicity that man, in all human calculation, has before him!-Assured of the love of such a woman-the disinterested love, for Jane Fairfax’s character vouches for her disinterestedness; every thing in his favour,-equality of situation-I mean, as far as regards society, and all the habits and manners that are important; equality in every point but one-and that one, since the purity of her heart is not to be doubted, such as must increase his felicity, for it will be his to bestow the only advantages she wants.-A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals.-Frank Churchill is, indeed, the favourite of fortune. Every thing turns out for his good.-He meets with a young woman at a watering-place, gains her affection, cannot even weary her by negligent treatment-and had he and all his family sought round the world for a perfect wife for him, they could not have found her superior.-His aunt is in the way.-His aunt dies.-He has only to speak.-His friends are eager to promote his happiness.-He had used every body ill-and they are all delighted to forgive him.-He is a fortunate man indeed!”_ _“You speak as if you envied him.”_ _“And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my envy.”_ _Emma could say no more. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet, and her immediate feeling was to avert the subject, if possible.. Mr. Knightley startled her, by saying,_ _“You will not ask me what is the point of envy.-You are determined, I see, to have no curiosity.-You are wise-but I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment.”_ _“Oh! then, don’t speak it, don’t speak it,” she eagerly cried. “Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself.”_ _“Thank you,” said he, in an accent of deep mortification, and not another syllable followed._ _Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide in her-perhaps to consult her;-cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it.._ _..And, after proceeding a few steps, she added-“I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.-But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation-as a friend, indeed, you may command me.-I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think.”_ _“As a friend!”-repeated Mr. Knightley.-“Emma, that I fear is a word-No, I have no wish-Stay, yes, why should I hesitate?-I have gone too far already for concealment.-Emma, I accept your offer-Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it, and refer myself to you as a friend.-Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?”_ _He stopped in his earnestness to look the question, and the expression of his eyes overpowered her._ _“My dearest Emma,” said he, “for dearest you will always be, whatever the event of this hour’s conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma-tell me at once. Say ‘No,’ if it is to be said.”-She could really say nothing.-“You are silent,” he cried, with great animation; “absolutely silent! at present I ask no more.”_ _Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation of this moment. The dread of being awakened from the happiest dream, was perhaps the most prominent feeling._ _“I cannot make speeches, Emma:” he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing.-“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.-You hear nothing but truth from me.-I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.-Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover.-But you understand me.-Yes, you see, you understand my feelings-and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice.”_ _While he spoke, Emma’s mind was most busy, and, with all the wonderful velocity of thought, had been able-and yet without losing a word-to catch and comprehend the exact truth of the whole; to see that Harriet’s hopes had been entirely groundless, a mistake, a delusion, as complete a delusion as any of her own-that Harriet was nothing; that she was every thing herself; that what she had been saying relative to Harriet had been all taken as the language of her own feelings; and that her agitation, her doubts, her reluctance, her discouragement, had been all received as discouragement from herself.. Her way was clear, though not quite smooth.-She spoke then, on being so entreated.-What did she say?-Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.-She said enough to shew there need not be despair-and to invite him to say more himself.._ _Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken; but where, as in this case, though the conduct is mistaken, the feelings are not, it may not be very material.-Mr. Knightley could not impute to Emma a more relenting heart than she possessed, or a heart more disposed to accept of his._ *_Emma, Vol 3, Chapter 13_*
Persuasion is in my personal top ten novels. ‘You pierce my soul - I am half agony, half hope. Tell me that I am not too late!’ One of the most romantic declarations in English Literature and testament to Austen’s genius.🥰
Persuasion always confuses me, I think I need to make time to read it. I think when every has the same name it gets tricky :) But Pride and Prejudice will always be my favourite ❤
Man, growing up in the 90s i forgot how good we had it. It was the era of jane Austen film adaptations, and other period films like little women and jane eyre. They just dint make em like they used to anymore. I miss it. I wish we would have another resurgence of really good films like this again, with beautiful music, amazing performances, and breathtaking scenery.
I recommend checking out Emma. (2020) if you haven’t already. It’s based off of the Jane Austen story and think it is very well done. Anya Taylor-Joy stars in it. I also enjoyed the newer little women (not by Jane Austen but still a good story) movie from 2019. If I understood correctly it ended with Jo single, or at least up for interpretation if I’m misremembering. Louisa May Alcott, the writer of little woman originally wanted Jo to stay single but the publisher insisted that she make her marry so this was Greta Gerwig’s way of creating that story all these years later.
I think you all need to read a book with all due respect the average common woman did not have it that well these are rich affluent people. This is a story. And domestic violence mental abuse and cruelty to women when unpunished. And you were literally chattel. You could not own land or control your funds. Yes you were property. Maybe you need to real the real stories in the working classes and look at how they were treated.
@@lisasligh1577 I think most women realize these are fictional stories. Myself included. I majored in history and literature. I read quite a lot. Some of the books I read are by Elizabeth Gaskell, Charles Dickens, and Upton Sinclair. All of which wrote books about the working class. Books like these are just escapism, just like these films are escapism. The whole point of Jane Austen's novels were to have characters have the happy ending that she didn't have and for her characters to have a better life than she had.
@@amidthephantomsrose Jane Austen in her life, genuinely experienced what it was like to truly love. So she wrote about what she knew as all writers should do. The happy endings are believable, and very well crafted. It's not a fantasy it's only how, when you get over a relationship, to move on it's best to forget the bad stuff and not get stuck in that, and just remember the good times. So she invented the happy endings she didn't get. But all the different types of love I totally recognise and see in other people. The stories are quite subtly hard hitting about women's lack of agency during those times and the commercial nature of the marriage market. I think Emily Bronte wrote more about the real pain of love, that dark side of it, its powerful force, and how destructive it can be.
The 1995 Sense and Sensibility is such a testament to Emma Thompson's skill as a actress: her crying is so real and painful and physically overwhelming.
This version is the only one I'll watch, from the cast to the writing, music, direction, costumes, etc. I probably watch it several times per year (on DVD). The version here of Pride and Prejudice is another great favorite. I don't really know the other four stories, but now I'll have to read them and them and see these film adaptations. Shucks, what a hard job! :)
I love this Northanger Abbey. They genuinely look like 2 people who have never kissed before and aren't sure how to do it. Then they can't stop. 😂 It's so cute!
When Wentworth and Anne can finaly hold hands after years of obstacles and estrangement. After thinking their chance of love was gone forever. Such a powerful scene. And it ties in with the famous opening lines of Persuasion. I love that book it was Austens best novel.
A beautiful scene ruined by that stupid parade and the direction during the parade, and the terrible ending with the admiral. Ugh! Way to sap the romance out of the scene! Great book (fourth on my list of JA, but I couldn’t put it down midway through); disappointing adaptation due entirely to audio and cinematography and direction.
@@megofiachra3247 I likes that this was a pretty faithful adaptation of the book. I hated the direction and camerawork throughout the movie. This looked more like the director wanting to show off the camera skills and how artistic he is more than wanting to give a quality adaptation of the book and just tell a good story.
Persuasión has always been in my top ten movies!! Amanda Root is such a non Hollywood type and so sweet, so sincere, Cierren Hinds is soooo dreamy and the story of love lost, ignored and then found is the best. Read the book only recently. (All her book are much better as movies, imo)
The films (as good as they are,) only scratch the surface of Austen’s writing. She not only deals in romance but manners, class, social interaction and of course prejudice and she does it in a witty, erudite way. The whole of Persuasion is filled with brilliant observations and descriptions that necessarily can’t be put into a 90 minute film. But each to their own. It’s not totally necessary to read the books to appreciate her genius!😊
Alan Rickman was amazing in Sense and Sensibility... and Hugh Grant played the awkward Edward Ferras to perfection. A delightful cast all the way around.
I don't remember watching this adaptation of Emma but god that's a good Knightley. I think that's the most natural sounding version of his speech I've heard so far
@@francescadelogu5969 These are adaptions of all the big six... Northanger Abbey is the first one yes, I was speaking about the fifth one in this video, which is an adaption of Emma
Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root ❤️❤️. Amanda playing Austen's sweetest and gentlest heroine. The flawless Sophie Thompson as the awful Mary. This never needs a remake.
Amanda Root was absolutely magnificent as Anne Elliot. She is one of the greatest actresses of all time. I cannot stop watching the scene in which Captain Benwick tells Anne, "You have no conception of what I have lost" and she replies "Yes I have", as Captain Wentworth glances their way.
All of these proposal scenes were beautifully written and beautifully portrayed by a wealth of wonderful actors. I thoroughly enjoyed each and every one. But my personal favorite is the scene from the 1996 EMMA, with Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong. While Kate was charming, delightful, headstrong at times, and everything Emma is meant to be, it was Mark who won me over completely as Mr. Knightly. He was simply astonishing, in my estimation, and brought every nuance one could hope for to the role. He could not stay away, no matter how hard he tried or how completely despairing he was at times of her self-indulgent behavior. And yes, he lectured her when he felt it necessary to do so. "Badly done, Emma! Badly done!" He was older, but not too much. He was handsome, but not perfect. And though he said he had no skills for speaking of love, he did so with great persuasion and elegance. Yes, they did pretty much stick to Austen's words, and they delivered them exquisitely. The movie was perfectly cast, and all the players were excellent, but, for me, it was Mark Strong who made that movie totally unforgettable!
I agree with you, but I still must cherish Mark Strong as a superlative villain in the Sherlock Holmes movie with Robert Downey Junior and Jude Law. He is a wonderful actor, in the manner of Alan Rickman, and I like him in most of his roles.
@@barbarahecht4617 I haven't seen that movie, but I do agree with you! I loved Mark as a villain in Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day! I can't remember the names of other movies right now, but I've seen him in several roles, very different to the role of Mr. Knightly, and always was impressed. I think he's highly under-rated as an actor. I will look for the Sherlock Holmes movie, based on your assessment.
Mark Strong is also quite the menacing villain in the movie adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s fantasy novella, Stardust. IMO that movie is right up there w/ The Princess Bride ~ tho’ less innocent, more adult. Strong is very talented ~ Emma is the first film in which I saw him & his is the best performance of any version I’ve seen.
Emma Thompson's reaction is so real and so honest it gets me every singe time. I have watched it so many times and it always brings a tear to my eye and a lump my throat. Truly one of best dramatic scenes in the history of historic drama.
Same! I came to the comments hoping someone would say "It's all good. He was like 4 and their moms thought it'd be cute to have him hold her." Someone tell me that's what happened, please.
There is a sixteen year age difference between Emma and Mr. Knightley. However, this particular dialogue does not occur in the book and seems to have been invented for the film.
I just don't know why they thought that's a good line to ad xD like I never found their age gap weird since it wasn't that uncommon at the time and they had a eye to eye friendship, he just held her accountable for her bullshit. But that line makes it feel kinda wrong.
*PRIDE & PREJUDICE* _Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s visit. The gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same._ _They walked towards the Lucases’, because Kitty wished to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was high, she immediately said,-_ _“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”_ _“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”_ _“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.”_ _“If you will thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.”_ _Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”_ _Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of feelings which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable._ _They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship’s apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise._ _“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly.”_ _Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations.”_ _“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”_ _“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”_ _“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”_ _“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way.”_ _“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me.”_ _“Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”_ _Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he,-“did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?”_ _She explained what its effects on her had been, and how gradually all her former prejudices had been removed._ _“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part, especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.”_ _“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies.”_ _“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit.”_ _“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”_ _“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of ignorance. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves, (my father particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable,) allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”_ _..After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that it was time to be at home._ *_Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 58_*
Absolutely the best version! I was lucky enough to see Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds onstage a couple years earlier. Seeing them together in this was just... perfection. 🥰
@@alyzu4755 Newcastle Playhouse? Ralph Fiennes was in it too. My friend was very excited to see RF ... until Mr Hinds appeared on stage. I leaned over to her and whispered, "Ralph who?". She asked how I knew what she was thinking - it was because I was thinking the same thing. ☺️
Thank you for this! Not all were my favorite sdaption but as they are the words of Miss Austen, I relish them all. Thank you for sharing this and the work you put into it!
Thank you! Some of the adaptations featured here weren't my personal favourites either, but I felt faithfulness of the scene to Austen's text would be a more neutral and objective criteria for selecting them. 🙂
I love Emma's version with Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeremy Northam. The proposal scene from Persuasion is my favourite, always in the BBC 1995 version. It is the most deeply felt, melancholic and beautiful of them all: "I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. (...) I tried to forget you. I thought I had."
Anne is described by Austen, as having a sweet nature, and an elegance of mind, she is level headed, gentle, intelligent misunderstood by her vulgar, narcissistic family. When Wentworth is in Bath, he hints to Anne how he feels about her, in comparing Louisa Musgrove to Sophie Harville. "A man does not get over such a devotion, to such a women..."etc,
*PERSUASION - The conversation* _When she (Anne) reached the White Hart, and made her way to the proper apartment, she found herself neither arriving quite in time, nor the first to arrive. The party before her were, Mrs Musgrove, talking to Mrs Croft, and Captain Harville to Captain Wentworth; and she immediately heard that Mary and Henrietta, too impatient to wait, had gone out the moment it had cleared, but would be back again soon, and that the strictest injunctions had been left with Mrs Musgrove to keep her there till they returned.._ _Mrs Musgrove was giving Mrs Croft the history of her eldest daughter’s engagement, and just in that inconvenient tone of voice which was perfectly audible while it pretended to be a whisper. Anne felt that she did not belong to the conversation, and yet, as Captain Harville seemed thoughtful and not disposed to talk, she could not avoid hearing many undesirable particulars.._ _Captain Harville, who had in truth been hearing none of it, now left his seat, and moved to a window, and Anne seeming to watch him, though it was from thorough absence of mind, became gradually sensible that he was inviting her to join him where he stood.. The window at which he stood was at the other end of the room from where the two ladies were sitting, and though nearer to Captain Wentworth’s table, not very near. As she joined him, Captain Harville’s countenance re-assumed the serious, thoughtful expression which seemed its natural character._ _“Look here,” said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, and displaying a small miniature painting, “do you know who that is?”_ _“Certainly: Captain Benwick.”_ _“Yes, and you may guess who it is for. But,” (in a deep tone,) “it was not done for her. Miss Elliot, do you remember our walking together at Lyme, and grieving for him? I little thought then-but no matter. This was drawn at the Cape. He met with a clever young German artist at the Cape, and in compliance with a promise to my poor sister, sat to him, and was bringing it home for her; and I have now the charge of getting it properly set for another! It was a commission to me! But who else was there to employ? I hope I can allow for him. I am not sorry, indeed, to make it over to another. He undertakes it;” (looking towards Captain Wentworth,) “he is writing about it now.” And with a quivering lip he wound up the whole by adding, “Poor Fanny! she would not have forgotten him so soon!”_ _“No,” replied Anne, in a low, feeling voice. “That I can easily believe.”_ _“It was not in her nature. She doted on him.”_ _“It would not be the nature of any woman who truly loved.”_ _Captain Harville smiled, as much as to say, “Do you claim that for your sex?” and she answered the question, smiling also, “Yes. We certainly do not forget you as soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You have always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or other, to take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions.”_ _“Granting your assertion that the world does all this so soon for men (which, however, I do not think I shall grant), it does not apply to Benwick. He has not been forced upon any exertion. The peace turned him on shore at the very moment, and he has been living with us, in our little family circle, ever since.”_ _“True,” said Anne, “very true; I did not recollect; but what shall we say now, Captain Harville? If the change be not from outward circumstances, it must be from within; it must be nature, man’s nature, which has done the business for Captain Benwick.”_ _“No, no, it is not man’s nature. I will not allow it to be more man’s nature than woman’s to be inconstant and forget those they do love, or have loved. I believe the reverse. I believe in a true analogy between our bodily frames and our mental; and that as our bodies are the strongest, so are our feelings; capable of bearing most rough usage, and riding out the heaviest weather.”_ _“Your feelings may be the strongest,” replied Anne, “but the same spirit of analogy will authorise me to assert that ours are the most tender. Man is more robust than woman, but he is not longer lived; which exactly explains my view of the nature of their attachments. Nay, it would be too hard upon you, if it were otherwise. You have difficulties, and privations, and dangers enough to struggle with. You are always labouring and toiling, exposed to every risk and hardship. Your home, country, friends, all quitted. Neither time, nor health, nor life, to be called your own. It would be hard, indeed” (with a faltering voice), “if woman’s feelings were to be added to all this.”_ _“We shall never agree upon this question,” Captain Harville was beginning to say, when a slight noise called their attention to Captain Wentworth’s hitherto perfectly quiet division of the room. It was nothing more than that his pen had fallen down; but Anne was startled at finding him nearer than she had supposed, and half inclined to suspect that the pen had only fallen because he had been occupied by them, striving to catch sounds, which yet she did not think he could have caught._ _“Have you finished your letter?” said Captain Harville._ _“Not quite, a few lines more. I shall have done in five minutes.”_ _“There is no hurry on my side. I am only ready whenever you are. I am in very good anchorage here,” (smiling at Anne,) “well supplied, and want for nothing. No hurry for a signal at all. Well, Miss Elliot,” (lowering his voice,) “as I was saying we shall never agree, I suppose, upon this point. No man and woman, would, probably. But let me observe that all histories are against you-all stories, prose and verse. If I had such a memory as Benwick, I could bring you fifty quotations in a moment on my side the argument, and I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not something to say upon woman’s inconstancy. Songs and proverbs, all talk of woman’s fickleness. But perhaps you will say, these were all written by men.”_ _“Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything.”_ _“But how shall we prove anything?”_ _“We never shall. We never can expect to prove any thing upon such a point. It is a difference of opinion which does not admit of proof. We each begin, probably, with a little bias towards our own sex; and upon that bias build every circumstance in favour of it which has occurred within our own circle; many of which circumstances (perhaps those very cases which strike us the most) may be precisely such as cannot be brought forward without betraying a confidence, or in some respect saying what should not be said.”_ _“Ah!” cried Captain Harville, in a tone of strong feeling, “if I could but make you comprehend what a man suffers when he takes a last look at his wife and children, and watches the boat that he has sent them off in, as long as it is in sight, and then turns away and says, ‘God knows whether we ever meet again!’ And then, if I could convey to you the glow of his soul when he does see them again; when, coming back after a twelvemonth’s absence, perhaps, and obliged to put into another port, he calculates how soon it be possible to get them there, pretending to deceive himself, and saying, ‘They cannot be here till such a day,’ but all the while hoping for them twelve hours sooner, and seeing them arrive at last, as if Heaven had given them wings, by many hours sooner still! If I could explain to you all this, and all that a man can bear and do, and glories to do, for the sake of these treasures of his existence! I speak, you know, only of such men as have hearts!” pressing his own with emotion._ _“Oh!” cried Anne eagerly, “I hope I do justice to all that is felt by you, and by those who resemble you. God forbid that I should undervalue the warm and faithful feelings of any of my fellow-creatures! I should deserve utter contempt if I dared to suppose that true attachment and constancy were known only by woman. No, I believe you capable of everything great and good in your married lives. I believe you equal to every important exertion, and to every domestic forbearance, so long as-if I may be allowed the expression-so long as you have an object. I mean while the woman you love lives, and lives for you. All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.”_ _She could not immediately have uttered another sentence; her heart was too full, her breath too much oppressed.._ _Their attention was called towards the others. Mrs Croft was taking leave._ _“Here, Frederick, you and I part company, I believe,” said she. “I am going home, and you have an engagement with your friend. To-night we may have the pleasure of all meeting again at your party,” (turning to Anne.) “We had your sister’s card yesterday, and I understood Frederick had a card too, though I did not see it; and you are disengaged, Frederick, are you not, as well as ourselves?”_ _Captain Wentworth was folding up a letter in great haste, and either could not or would not answer fully._ _“Yes,” said he, “very true; here we separate, but Harville and I shall soon be after you; that is, Harville, if you are ready, I am in half a minute. I know you will not be sorry to be off. I shall be at your service in half a minute.”_ *_Persuasion, Chapter 23_*
This Scene from Sense & Sensibility is done so well. From Edward's 'natural', adorable clumsiness to Elinor's breathless cry and Happy tears ~ I loved every moment of it❣️
thank you for including the entire Persuasion sequence, VITAL CONTENT. no one is doing it like them. so hot, so romantic, i believe in their love and their future. also, shout out to arthur weasley as a mummer.
*PERSUASION - The letter* _Mrs Croft left them, and Captain Wentworth, having sealed his letter with great rapidity, was indeed ready, and had even a hurried, agitated air, which shewed impatience to be gone. Anne knew not how to understand it. She had the kindest “Good morning, God bless you!” from Captain Harville, but from him not a word, nor a look! He had passed out of the room without a look!_ _She had only time, however, to move closer to the table where he had been writing, when footsteps were heard returning; the door opened, it was himself. He begged their pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves, and instantly crossing the room to the writing table, he drew out a letter from under the scattered paper, placed it before Anne with eyes of glowing entreaty fixed on her for a time, and hastily collecting his gloves, was again out of the room, almost before Mrs Musgrove was aware of his being in it: the work of an instant!_ _The revolution which one instant had made in Anne, was almost beyond expression. The letter, with a direction hardly legible, to “Miss A. E.-,” was evidently the one which he had been folding so hastily. While supposed to be writing only to Captain Benwick, he had been also addressing her! On the contents of that letter depended all which this world could do for her. Anything was possible, anything might be defied rather than suspense. Mrs Musgrove had little arrangements of her own at her own table; to their protection she must trust, and sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes devoured the following words:_ _“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in_ _F. W._ _“I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this evening or never.”_ _Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from. Half an hour’s solitude and reflection might have tranquillized her; but the ten minutes only which now passed before she was interrupted, with all the restraints of her situation, could do nothing towards tranquillity. Every moment rather brought fresh agitation. It was overpowering happiness. And before she was beyond the first stage of full sensation, Charles, Mary, and Henrietta all came in._ _The absolute necessity of seeming like herself produced then an immediate struggle; but after a while she could do no more. She began not to understand a word they said, and was obliged to plead indisposition and excuse herself. They could then see that she looked very ill, were shocked and concerned, and would not stir without her for the world. This was dreadful. Would they only have gone away, and left her in the quiet possession of that room it would have been her cure; but to have them all standing or waiting around her was distracting, and in desperation, she said she would go home._ _“By all means, my dear,” cried Mrs Musgrove, “go home directly, and take care of yourself, that you may be fit for the evening. I wish Sarah was here to doctor you, but I am no doctor myself. Charles, ring and order a chair. She must not walk.”_ _But the chair would never do. Worse than all! To lose the possibility of speaking two words to Captain Wentworth in the course of her quiet, solitary progress up the town (and she felt almost certain of meeting him) could not be borne. The chair was earnestly protested against, and Mrs Musgrove, who thought only of one sort of illness, having assured herself with some anxiety, that there had been no fall in the case; that Anne had not at any time lately slipped down, and got a blow on her head; that she was perfectly convinced of having had no fall; could part with her cheerfully, and depend on finding her better at night._ _Anxious to omit no possible precaution, Anne struggled, and said-_ _“I am afraid, ma’am, that it is not perfectly understood. Pray be so good as to mention to the other gentlemen that we hope to see your whole party this evening. I am afraid there had been some mistake; and I wish you particularly to assure Captain Harville and Captain Wentworth, that we hope to see them both.”_ _“Oh! my dear, it is quite understood, I give you my word. Captain Harville has no thought but of going.”_ _“Do you think so? But I am afraid; and I should be so very sorry. Will you promise me to mention it, when you see them again? You will see them both this morning, I dare say. Do promise me.”_ _“To be sure I will, if you wish it. Charles, if you see Captain Harville anywhere, remember to give Miss Anne’s message. But indeed, my dear, you need not be uneasy. Captain Harville holds himself quite engaged, I’ll answer for it; and Captain Wentworth the same, I dare say.”_ _Anne could do no more; but her heart prophesied some mischance to damp the perfection of her felicity. It could not be very lasting, however. Even if he did not come to Camden Place himself, it would be in her power to send an intelligible sentence by Captain Harville. Another momentary vexation occurred. Charles, in his real concern and good nature, would go home with her; there was no preventing him. This was almost cruel. But she could not be long ungrateful; he was sacrificing an engagement at a gunsmith’s, to be of use to her; and she set off with him, with no feeling but gratitude apparent._ _They were on Union Street, when a quicker step behind, a something of familiar sound, gave her two moments’ preparation for the sight of Captain Wentworth. He joined them; but, as if irresolute whether to join or to pass on, said nothing, only looked. Anne could command herself enough to receive that look, and not repulsively. The cheeks which had been pale now glowed, and the movements which had hesitated were decided. He walked by her side. Presently, struck by a sudden thought, Charles said-_ _“Captain Wentworth, which way are you going? Only to Gay Street, or farther up the town?”_ _“I hardly know,” replied Captain Wentworth, surprised._ _“Are you going as high as Belmont? Are you going near Camden Place? Because, if you are, I shall have no scruple in asking you to take my place, and give Anne your arm to her father’s door. She is rather done for this morning, and must not go so far without help, and I ought to be at that fellow’s in the Market Place. He promised me the sight of a capital gun he is just going to send off; said he would keep it unpacked to the last possible moment, that I might see it; and if I do not turn back now, I have no chance. By his description, a good deal like the second size double-barrel of mine, which you shot with one day round Winthrop.”_ _There could not be an objection. There could be only the most proper alacrity, a most obliging compliance for public view; and smiles reined in and spirits dancing in private rapture. In half a minute Charles was at the bottom of Union Street again, and the other two proceeding together: and soon words enough had passed between them to decide their direction towards the comparatively quiet and retired gravel walk, where the power of conversation would make the present hour a blessing indeed, and prepare it for all the immortality which the happiest recollections of their own future lives could bestow. There they exchanged again those feelings and those promises which had once before seemed to secure everything, but which had been followed by so many, many years of division and estrangement. There they returned again into the past, more exquisitely happy, perhaps, in their re-union, than when it had been first projected; more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge of each other’s character, truth, and attachment; more equal to act, more justified in acting. And there, as they slowly paced the gradual ascent, heedless of every group around them, seeing neither sauntering politicians, bustling housekeepers, flirting girls, nor nursery-maids and children, they could indulge in those retrospections and acknowledgements, and especially in those explanations of what had directly preceded the present moment, which were so poignant and so ceaseless in interest. All the little variations of the last week were gone through; and of yesterday and today there could scarcely be an end._ *_Persuasion, Chapter 23_*
If it wasn't for the lack of sanitation, women's rights and the high probability of being a servant - this would have been a great time to experience. :)
_I could easily comment on each one separately📚 but I would just be repeating myself, for each gently stirs the same emotions ~ a smile, Butterflies 🦋 and a sniffle or two😊 It's amazing that each, totally different, somehow were produced, written & directed with the same common denominator ~ remaining true to the Vision of the writer_
I've read them all, seen the movies, and I love them so much!!! ❤ Thank you! Apologies, kind of, to those who enjoy the Keira Knightly "Pride & Prejudice" or the Gwyneth Paltrow "Emma." Terrible adaptations! The music was good, I can give them that. 😉
You saved the best for last. Persuasion is my favorite of the Austen novels, and Amanda Root is the perfect Anne Elliot. Her expressions - especially her eyes - are more eloquent than mere words. She is my favorite Austen heroine. .
Persuasion 1995 wonderful cast. Loved that one..plus 2007. We Americans see all these classics on Masterpiece Theatre with PBS. Have seen them since I was a little girl growing up in NY. And still watching MT at age 65.
Oooh Im so glad this came up for me!! Jane Austen got me through such a tough time in my life. Reading these books and watching these adaptations really helped me get through it. These are all my favorite adaptations. Thank you so much for compiling these scenes.
I have read and reread Austen all my life, starting in my teenage years. Your choices are fantastic and well thought out. This video is a balm to my soul, while I navigate helping aging parents.Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🙏
The British are incredibly courteous. My Mother was half British and it is in the genes as she was naturally polite and even tempered. I dream of a world such as this now.
I wish that was still the case. I think even 20 years ago when I came to Britain they were more courteous than today. After all, that's exactly what attracted me to my ex husband, the utmost of care he handled my heart with. Polite, gentle and genteel. ❤
*EMMA* _..she (Emma) lost no time in hurrying into the shrubbery.-There, with spirits freshened, and thoughts a little relieved, she had taken a few turns, when she saw Mr. Knightley passing through the garden door, and coming towards her.-It was the first intimation of his being returned from London. She had been thinking of him the moment before, as unquestionably sixteen miles distant.-There was time only for the quickest arrangement of mind. She must be collected and calm. In half a minute they were together. The “How d’ye do’s” were quiet and constrained on each side. She asked after their mutual friends; they were all well.-When had he left them?-Only that morning. He must have had a wet ride.-Yes.-He meant to walk with her, she found.._ _They walked together. He was silent.. She considered-resolved-and, trying to smile, began-_ _“You have some news to hear, now you are come back, that will rather surprize you.”_ _“Have I?” said he quietly, and looking at her; “of what nature?”_ _“Oh! the best nature in the world-a wedding.”_ _After waiting a moment, as if to be sure she intended to say no more, he replied,_ _“If you mean Miss Fairfax and Frank Churchill, I have heard that already.”_ _“How is it possible?” cried Emma, turning her glowing cheeks towards him; for, while she spoke, it occurred to her that he might have called at Mrs. Goddard’s in his way._ _“I had a few lines on parish business from Mr. Weston this morning, and at the end of them he gave me a brief account of what had happened.”_ _Emma was quite relieved, and could presently say, with a little more composure,_ _“You probably have been less surprized than any of us, for you have had your suspicions.-I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution.-I wish I had attended to it-but-(with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh) I seem to have been doomed to blindness.”_ _For a moment or two nothing was said, and she was unsuspicious of having excited any particular interest, till she found her arm drawn within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low,_ _“Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.-Your own excellent sense-your exertions for your father’s sake-I know you will not allow yourself-.” Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued accent, “The feelings of the warmest friendship-Indignation-Abominable scoundrel!”-And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, “He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for her. She deserves a better fate.”_ _Emma understood him; and as soon as she could recover from the flutter of pleasure, excited by such tender consideration, replied,_ _“You are very kind-but you are mistaken-and I must set you right.- I am not in want of that sort of compassion. My blindness to what was going on, led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of, and I was very foolishly tempted to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures, but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier.. I have very little to say for my own conduct.-I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.-An old story, probably-a common case-and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before.. I always found him very pleasant-and, in short, for (with a sigh) let me swell out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last-my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however-for some time, indeed-I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another.-It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself-except that I was not blinded-that it was my good fortune-that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him.”_ _..“He is a most fortunate man!” returned Mr. Knightley, with energy. “So early in life-at three-and-twenty-a period when, if a man chuses a wife, he generally chuses ill. At three-and-twenty to have drawn such a prize! What years of felicity that man, in all human calculation, has before him!-Assured of the love of such a woman-the disinterested love, for Jane Fairfax’s character vouches for her disinterestedness; every thing in his favour,-equality of situation-I mean, as far as regards society, and all the habits and manners that are important; equality in every point but one-and that one, since the purity of her heart is not to be doubted, such as must increase his felicity, for it will be his to bestow the only advantages she wants.-A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals.-Frank Churchill is, indeed, the favourite of fortune. Every thing turns out for his good.-He meets with a young woman at a watering-place, gains her affection, cannot even weary her by negligent treatment-and had he and all his family sought round the world for a perfect wife for him, they could not have found her superior.-His aunt is in the way.-His aunt dies.-He has only to speak.-His friends are eager to promote his happiness.-He had used every body ill-and they are all delighted to forgive him.-He is a fortunate man indeed!”_ _“You speak as if you envied him.”_ _“And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my envy.”_ _Emma could say no more. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet, and her immediate feeling was to avert the subject, if possible.. Mr. Knightley startled her, by saying,_ _“You will not ask me what is the point of envy.-You are determined, I see, to have no curiosity.-You are wise-but I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment.”_ _“Oh! then, don’t speak it, don’t speak it,” she eagerly cried. “Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself.”_ _“Thank you,” said he, in an accent of deep mortification, and not another syllable followed._ _Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide in her-perhaps to consult her;-cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it.._ _..And, after proceeding a few steps, she added-“I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.-But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation-as a friend, indeed, you may command me.-I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think.”_ _“As a friend!”-repeated Mr. Knightley.-“Emma, that I fear is a word-No, I have no wish-Stay, yes, why should I hesitate?-I have gone too far already for concealment.-Emma, I accept your offer-Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it, and refer myself to you as a friend.-Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?”_ _He stopped in his earnestness to look the question, and the expression of his eyes overpowered her._ _“My dearest Emma,” said he, “for dearest you will always be, whatever the event of this hour’s conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma-tell me at once. Say ‘No,’ if it is to be said.”-She could really say nothing.-“You are silent,” he cried, with great animation; “absolutely silent! at present I ask no more.”_ _Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation of this moment. The dread of being awakened from the happiest dream, was perhaps the most prominent feeling._ _“I cannot make speeches, Emma:” he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing.-“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.-You hear nothing but truth from me.-I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.-Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover.-But you understand me.-Yes, you see, you understand my feelings-and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice.”_ _While he spoke, Emma’s mind was most busy, and, with all the wonderful velocity of thought, had been able-and yet without losing a word-to catch and comprehend the exact truth of the whole; to see that Harriet’s hopes had been entirely groundless, a mistake, a delusion, as complete a delusion as any of her own-that Harriet was nothing; that she was every thing herself; that what she had been saying relative to Harriet had been all taken as the language of her own feelings; and that her agitation, her doubts, her reluctance, her discouragement, had been all received as discouragement from herself.. Her way was clear, though not quite smooth.-She spoke then, on being so entreated.-What did she say?-Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.-She said enough to shew there need not be despair-and to invite him to say more himself.._ _Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken; but where, as in this case, though the conduct is mistaken, the feelings are not, it may not be very material.-Mr. Knightley could not impute to Emma a more relenting heart than she possessed, or a heart more disposed to accept of his._ *_Emma, Vol 3, Chapter 13_*
That was my favourite Persuasion, but the most wonderful Emma was the 2021 version with Johnny Flynn and Anya Taylor-Joy. Sucha beautiful production and amazing cast.
@@kristen_franklin I love it, but I love all the Austen adaptations. I think it's wonderful to see how differently the source material is influenced over time.
Wonderful compilation of happy ending scenes... Thank you! That breathtaking letter at the end of Persuasion followed by Wentworth's declaration in the street is so romantic and both actors nail it completely. Wouldn't every woman wish to be loved like that??
*NORTHANGER ABBEY* _Mrs. Morland.. seeing, in her daughter’s absent and dissatisfied look, the full proof of that repining spirit to which she had now begun to attribute her want of cheerfulness, hastily left the room to fetch the book in question, anxious to lose no time in attacking so dreadful a malady. It was some time before she could find what she looked for; and other family matters occurring to detain her, a quarter of an hour had elapsed ere she returned downstairs with the volume from which so much was hoped. Her avocations above having shut out all noise but what she created herself, she knew not that a visitor had arrived within the last few minutes, till, on entering the room, the first object she beheld was a young man whom she had never seen before. With a look of much respect, he immediately rose, and being introduced to her by her conscious daughter as “Mr. Henry Tilney,” with the embarrassment of real sensibility began to apologize for his appearance there, acknowledging that after what had passed he had little right to expect a welcome at Fullerton, and stating his impatience to be assured of Miss Morland’s having reached her home in safety, as the cause of his intrusion. He did not address himself to an uncandid judge or a resentful heart. Far from comprehending him or his sister in their father’s misconduct, Mrs. Morland had been always kindly disposed towards each, and instantly, pleased by his appearance, received him with the simple professions of unaffected benevolence; thanking him for such an attention to her daughter, assuring him that the friends of her children were always welcome there, and entreating him to say not another word of the past._ _He was not ill-inclined to obey this request, for, though his heart was greatly relieved by such unlooked-for mildness, it was not just at that moment in his power to say anything to the purpose. Returning in silence to his seat, therefore, he remained for some minutes most civilly answering all Mrs. Morland’s common remarks about the weather and roads. Catherine meanwhile-the anxious, agitated, happy, feverish Catherine-said not a word; but her glowing cheek and brightened eye made her mother trust that this good-natured visit would at least set her heart at ease for a time.._ _..After a couple of minutes’ unbroken silence, Henry, turning to Catherine for the first time since her mother’s entrance, asked her, with sudden alacrity, if Mr. and Mrs. Allen were now at Fullerton? And on developing, from amidst all her perplexity of words in reply, the meaning, which one short syllable would have given, immediately expressed his intention of paying his respects to them, and, with a rising colour, asked her if she would have the goodness to show him the way. “You may see the house from this window, sir,” was information on Sarah’s side, which produced only a bow of acknowledgment from the gentleman, and a silencing nod from her mother; for Mrs. Morland, thinking it probable, as a secondary consideration in his wish of waiting on their worthy neighbours, that he might have some explanation to give of his father’s behaviour, which it must be more pleasant for him to communicate only to Catherine, would not on any account prevent her accompanying him. They began their walk, and Mrs. Morland was not entirely mistaken in his object in wishing it. Some explanation on his father’s account he had to give; but his first purpose was to explain himself, and before they reached Mr. Allen’s grounds he had done it so well that Catherine did not think it could ever be repeated too often. She was assured of his affection; and that heart in return was solicited, which, perhaps, they pretty equally knew was already entirely his own; for, though Henry was now sincerely attached to her, though he felt and delighted in all the excellencies of her character and truly loved her society, I must confess that his affection originated in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of an heroine’s dignity; but if it be as new in common life, the credit of a wild imagination will at least be all my own._ _A very short visit to Mrs. Allen, in which Henry talked at random, without sense or connection, and Catherine, wrapt in the contemplation of her own unutterable happiness, scarcely opened her lips, dismissed them to the ecstasies of another tête-à-tête; and before it was suffered to close, she was enabled to judge how far he was sanctioned by parental authority in his present application. On his return from Woodston, two days before, he had been met near the abbey by his impatient father, hastily informed in angry terms of Miss Morland’s departure, and ordered to think of her no more._ _Such was the permission upon which he had now offered her his hand. The affrighted Catherine, amidst all the terrors of expectation, as she listened to this account, could not but rejoice in the kind caution with which Henry had saved her from the necessity of a conscientious rejection, by engaging her faith before he mentioned the subject; and as he proceeded to give the particulars, and explain the motives of his father’s conduct, her feelings soon hardened into even a triumphant delight. The general had had nothing to accuse her of, nothing to lay to her charge, but her being the involuntary, unconscious object of a deception which his pride could not pardon, and which a better pride would have been ashamed to own. She was guilty only of being less rich than he had supposed her to be.._ _John Thorpe had first misled him. The general, perceiving his son one night at the theatre to be paying considerable attention to Miss Morland, had accidentally inquired of Thorpe if he knew more of her than her name. Thorpe, most happy to be on speaking terms with a man of General Tilney’s importance, had been joyfully and proudly communicative; and being at that time not only in daily expectation of Morland’s engaging Isabella, but likewise pretty well resolved upon marrying Catherine himself, his vanity induced him to represent the family as yet more wealthy than his vanity and avarice had made him believe them.._ _Mr. and Mrs. Morland’s surprise on being applied to by Mr. Tilney for their consent to his marrying their daughter was, for a few minutes, considerable, it having never entered their heads to suspect an attachment on either side; but as nothing, after all, could be more natural than Catherine’s being beloved, they soon learnt to consider it with only the happy agitation of gratified pride, and, as far as they alone were concerned, had not a single objection to start.._ _There was but one obstacle, in short, to be mentioned; but till that one was removed, it must be impossible for them to sanction the engagement. Their tempers were mild, but their principles were steady, and while his parent so expressly forbade the connection, they could not allow themselves to encourage it. That the general should come forward to solicit the alliance, or that he should even very heartily approve it, they were not refined enough to make any parading stipulation; but the decent appearance of consent must be yielded, and that once obtained-and their own hearts made them trust that it could not be very long denied-their willing approbation was instantly to follow. His consent was all that they wished for.._ _..Henry returned to what was now his only home, to watch over his young plantations, and extend his improvements for her sake, to whose share in them he looked anxiously forward; and Catherine remained at Fullerton to cry. Whether the torments of absence were softened by a clandestine correspondence, let us not inquire. Mr. and Mrs. Morland never did-they had been too kind to exact any promise; and whenever Catherine received a letter, as, at that time, happened pretty often, they always looked another way._ _..The means by which their early marriage was effected can be the only doubt: what probable circumstance could work upon a temper like the General’s? The circumstance which chiefly availed was the marriage of his daughter with a man of fortune and consequence, which took place in the course of the summer-an accession of dignity that threw him into a fit of good humour, from which he did not recover till after Eleanor had obtained his forgiveness of Henry, and his permission for him “to be a fool if he liked it!”_ _..On the strength of this, the general, soon after Eleanor’s marriage, permitted his son to return to Northanger, and thence made him the bearer of his consent, very courteously worded in a page full of empty professions to Mr. Morland. The event which it authorized soon followed: Henry and Catherine were married, the bells rang, and everybody smiled; and, as this took place within a twelvemonth from the first day of their meeting, it will not appear, after all the dreadful delays occasioned by the General’s cruelty, that they were essentially hurt by it. To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty-six and eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself moreover convinced that the General’s unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience._ *_Northanger Abbey, Chapters 30 & 31_*
Enjoyed this post so much! As a very old but romantic soul, Austen is indeed the master of the craft. The collection you’ve put together is pure joy!✊❤️
All these versions are the only adaptations that truly make justice to the books. I only consider them worthy to watch and appreciate a lively experience of Jane histories
This adaptation of Mansfield Park was not even remotely like the book. This was more like a Netflix attempt loosely based on the book. The only thing they left out was making Fanny into a PIC. Absolute rubbish.
I have always loved Jane Austen movies. Thanks Mistress of Pemberly. I had to get use to NorthangerAbbey. I love Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Emma. I like Mansfield Park. Edmund also played in Emma in another version. And he also married Emma in that version too
I like the 2007 Persuasion so much because of the moody sadgirl vibes but this version is just chefs kiss! The look Wentworth gives Anne when he points out the letter 😫😭😍
*SENSE & SENSIBILITY* _Elinor now found the difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, and certainty itself. She now found, that in spite of herself, she had always admitted a hope, while Edward remained single, that something would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy.. But he was now married.._ _..“When do you write to Colonel Brandon, ma’am?” was an inquiry which sprung from the impatience of her mind to have something going on._ _“I wrote to him, my love, last week, and rather expect to see, than to hear from him again. I earnestly pressed his coming to us, and should not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day.”_ _This was gaining something, something to look forward to.._ _Scarcely had she so determined it, when the figure of a man on horseback drew her eyes to the window. He stopt at their gate. It was a gentleman, it was Colonel Brandon himself. Now she could hear more; and she trembled in expectation of it. But it was not Colonel Brandon; neither his air, nor his height. Were it possible, she must say it must be Edward. She looked again. He had just dismounted: she could not be mistaken,-it was Edward. She moved away and sat down. “He comes from Mr. Pratt’s purposely to see us. I will be calm; I will be mistress of myself.”_ _..She saw her mother and Marianne change colour; saw them look at herself, and whisper a few sentences to each other. She would have given the world to be able to speak-and to make them understand that she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear in their behaviour to him;-but she had no utterance, and was obliged to leave all to their own discretion._ _..They all waited in silence for the appearance of their visitor. His footsteps were heard along the gravel path; in a moment he was in the passage, and in another he was before them._ _His countenance, as he entered the room, was not too happy, even for Elinor. His complexion was white with agitation, and he looked as if fearful of his reception, and conscious that he merited no kind one. Mrs. Dashwood, however, conforming, as she trusted, to the wishes of that daughter, by whom she then meant in the warmth of her heart to be guided in every thing, met him with a look of forced complacency, gave him her hand, and wished him joy._ _He coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. Elinor’s lips had moved with her mother’s, and, when the moment of action was over, she wished that she had shaken hands with him too. But it was then too late, and with a countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again and talked of the weather._ _Marianne had retreated as much as possible out of sight, to conceal her distress; and Margaret, understanding some part, but not the whole of the case, thought it incumbent on her to be dignified, and therefore took a seat as far from him as she could, and maintained a strict silence._ _When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season, a very awful pause took place. It was put an end to by Mrs. Dashwood, who felt obliged to hope that he had left Mrs. Ferrars very well. In a hurried manner, he replied in the affirmative._ _Another pause._ _Elinor resolving to exert herself, though fearing the sound of her own voice, now said,_ _“Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?”_ _“At Longstaple!” he replied, with an air of surprise. “No, my mother is in town.”_ _“I meant,” said Elinor, taking up some work from the table, “to enquire for Mrs. Edward Ferrars.”_ _She dared not look up;-but her mother and Marianne both turned their eyes on him. He coloured, seemed perplexed, looked doubtingly, and, after some hesitation, said,-_ _“Perhaps you mean-my brother-you mean Mrs.-Mrs. Robert Ferrars.”_ _“Mrs. Robert Ferrars!” was repeated by Marianne and her mother in an accent of the utmost amazement; and though Elinor could not speak, even her eyes were fixed on him with the same impatient wonder. He rose from his seat, and walked to the window, apparently from not knowing what to do; took up a pair of scissors that lay there, and while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to pieces as he spoke, said, in a hurried voice,-_ _“Perhaps you do not know: you may not have heard that my brother is lately married to-to the youngest-to Miss Lucy Steele.”_ _His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but Elinor, who sat with her head leaning over her work, in a state of such agitation as made her hardly know where she was._ _“Yes,” said he, “they were married last week, and are now at Dawlish.”_ _Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw-or even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, quitted the room, and walked out towards the village-leaving the others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his situation, so wonderful and so sudden.._ _Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his release might appear to the whole family, it was certain that Edward was free; and to what purpose that freedom would be employed was easily pre-determined by all;-for after experiencing the blessings of one imprudent engagement, contracted without his mother’s consent, as he had already done for more than four years, nothing less could be expected of him in the failure of that, than the immediate contraction of another._ _His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. It was only to ask Elinor to marry him;-and considering that he was not altogether inexperienced in such a question, it might be strange that he should feel so uncomfortable in the present case as he really did, so much in need of encouragement and fresh air._ _How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly told.._ _His heart was now open to Elinor, all its weaknesses, all its errors confessed, and his first boyish attachment to Lucy treated with all the philosophic dignity of twenty-four._ _“It was a foolish, idle inclination on my side,” said he, “the consequence of ignorance of the world, and want of employment. Had my mother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen from the care of Mr. Pratt, I think, nay, I am sure, it would never have happened; for though I left Longstaple with what I thought, at the time, a most unconquerable preference for his niece, yet had I then had any pursuit, any object to engage my time and keep me at a distance from her for a few months, I should very soon have outgrown the fancied attachment, especially by mixing more with the world, as in such case I must have done. But instead of having any thing to do, instead of having any profession chosen for me, or being allowed to chuse any myself, I returned home to be completely idle; and for the first twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment, which belonging to the university would have given me; for I was not entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. I had therefore nothing in the world to do, but to fancy myself in love; and as my mother did not make my home in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, no companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, it was not unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, where I always felt myself at home, and was always sure of a welcome; and accordingly I spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen: Lucy appeared everything that was amiable and obliging. She was pretty too-at least I thought so then; and I had seen so little of other women, that I could make no comparisons, and see no defects. Considering everything, therefore, I hope, foolish as our engagement was, foolish as it has since in every way been proved, it was not at the time an unnatural or an inexcusable piece of folly.”_ _The change which a few hours had wrought in the minds and the happiness of the Dashwoods, was such-so great-as promised them all, the satisfaction of a sleepless night. Mrs. Dashwood, too happy to be comfortable, knew not how to love Edward, nor praise Elinor enough, how to be enough thankful for his release without wounding his delicacy, nor how at once to give them leisure for unrestrained conversation together, and yet enjoy, as she wished, the sight and society of both._ _Marianne could speak her happiness only by tears. Comparisons would occur-regrets would arise; and her joy, though sincere as her love for her sister, was of a kind to give her neither spirits nor language._ _But Elinor-how are her feelings to be described? From the moment of learning that Lucy was married to another, that Edward was free, to the moment of his justifying the hopes which had so instantly followed, she was every thing by turns but tranquil. But when the second moment had passed, when she found every doubt, every solicitude removed, compared her situation with what so lately it had been,-saw him honourably released from his former engagement,-saw him instantly profiting by the release, to address herself and declare an affection as tender, as constant as she had ever supposed it to be,-she was oppressed, she was overcome by her own felicity; and happily disposed as is the human mind to be easily familiarized with any change for the better, it required several hours to give sedateness to her spirits, or any degree of tranquillity to her heart._ *_Sense & Sensibility, Chapters 48 & 49_*
That scene in Sense and Sensibility always brings tears to my eyes! It's so hard to choose a favorite of the Jane Austen film adaptations. I do know my favorite one of Emma is the one starring Gwyneth Paltrow.
The 2005 P&P had the great scene of Bingley intending to propose to Jane but meeting a wall of Bennett women and losing his nerve forcing a tactical retreat and reevaluation. But the second try worked. 😊
- As everyone has their favourites when it comes to screen adaptations of Austen novels, the adaptations featured in this compilation have been chosen on the basis of the extent of faithfulness to the scene as described in the books.
- For the sake of consistency in tone and visual aesthetic across the scenes, only the adaptations from '90s and later were considered.
- For PRIDE & PREJUDICE, PERSUASION and NORTHANGER ABBEY, the selection was straight-forward. For the the first two, the 1995 adaptations depicted the scene most faithfully, while for NORTHANGER ABBEY there is only the 2007 ITV movie to pick after the '90s.
- For SENSE & SENSIBILITY, the scene from the 1995 movie was picked as its counterpart from the 2008 adaptation is copyright blocked in RUclips.
- The choice for EMMA was a little hard as there are FOUR modern adaptations to choose from. However, the 1996 ITV movie starring Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong was a bit more faithful than the rest in the setting of the scene and the dialogues (except, perhaps, a certain dialogue at the end of the scene which some viewers might find awkward).
- As for MANSFIELD PARK, Austen does not describe the proposal scene in the book and the choice was between 1999 and 2007 movies. The scene from the 1999 movie was picked as it had Austen's lines as voice-over at the beginning.
I hope you would enjoy watching this video! 🙂
*NORTHANGER ABBEY*
_Mrs. Morland.. seeing, in her daughter’s absent and dissatisfied look, the full proof of that repining spirit to which she had now begun to attribute her want of cheerfulness, hastily left the room to fetch the book in question, anxious to lose no time in attacking so dreadful a malady. It was some time before she could find what she looked for; and other family matters occurring to detain her, a quarter of an hour had elapsed ere she returned downstairs with the volume from which so much was hoped. Her avocations above having shut out all noise but what she created herself, she knew not that a visitor had arrived within the last few minutes, till, on entering the room, the first object she beheld was a young man whom she had never seen before. With a look of much respect, he immediately rose, and being introduced to her by her conscious daughter as “Mr. Henry Tilney,” with the embarrassment of real sensibility began to apologize for his appearance there, acknowledging that after what had passed he had little right to expect a welcome at Fullerton, and stating his impatience to be assured of Miss Morland’s having reached her home in safety, as the cause of his intrusion. He did not address himself to an uncandid judge or a resentful heart. Far from comprehending him or his sister in their father’s misconduct, Mrs. Morland had been always kindly disposed towards each, and instantly, pleased by his appearance, received him with the simple professions of unaffected benevolence; thanking him for such an attention to her daughter, assuring him that the friends of her children were always welcome there, and entreating him to say not another word of the past._
_He was not ill-inclined to obey this request, for, though his heart was greatly relieved by such unlooked-for mildness, it was not just at that moment in his power to say anything to the purpose. Returning in silence to his seat, therefore, he remained for some minutes most civilly answering all Mrs. Morland’s common remarks about the weather and roads. Catherine meanwhile-the anxious, agitated, happy, feverish Catherine-said not a word; but her glowing cheek and brightened eye made her mother trust that this good-natured visit would at least set her heart at ease for a time.._
_..After a couple of minutes’ unbroken silence, Henry, turning to Catherine for the first time since her mother’s entrance, asked her, with sudden alacrity, if Mr. and Mrs. Allen were now at Fullerton? And on developing, from amidst all her perplexity of words in reply, the meaning, which one short syllable would have given, immediately expressed his intention of paying his respects to them, and, with a rising colour, asked her if she would have the goodness to show him the way. “You may see the house from this window, sir,” was information on Sarah’s side, which produced only a bow of acknowledgment from the gentleman, and a silencing nod from her mother; for Mrs. Morland, thinking it probable, as a secondary consideration in his wish of waiting on their worthy neighbours, that he might have some explanation to give of his father’s behaviour, which it must be more pleasant for him to communicate only to Catherine, would not on any account prevent her accompanying him. They began their walk, and Mrs. Morland was not entirely mistaken in his object in wishing it. Some explanation on his father’s account he had to give; but his first purpose was to explain himself, and before they reached Mr. Allen’s grounds he had done it so well that Catherine did not think it could ever be repeated too often. She was assured of his affection; and that heart in return was solicited, which, perhaps, they pretty equally knew was already entirely his own; for, though Henry was now sincerely attached to her, though he felt and delighted in all the excellencies of her character and truly loved her society, I must confess that his affection originated in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of an heroine’s dignity; but if it be as new in common life, the credit of a wild imagination will at least be all my own._
_A very short visit to Mrs. Allen, in which Henry talked at random, without sense or connection, and Catherine, wrapt in the contemplation of her own unutterable happiness, scarcely opened her lips, dismissed them to the ecstasies of another tête-à-tête; and before it was suffered to close, she was enabled to judge how far he was sanctioned by parental authority in his present application. On his return from Woodston, two days before, he had been met near the abbey by his impatient father, hastily informed in angry terms of Miss Morland’s departure, and ordered to think of her no more._
_Such was the permission upon which he had now offered her his hand. The affrighted Catherine, amidst all the terrors of expectation, as she listened to this account, could not but rejoice in the kind caution with which Henry had saved her from the necessity of a conscientious rejection, by engaging her faith before he mentioned the subject; and as he proceeded to give the particulars, and explain the motives of his father’s conduct, her feelings soon hardened into even a triumphant delight. The general had had nothing to accuse her of, nothing to lay to her charge, but her being the involuntary, unconscious object of a deception which his pride could not pardon, and which a better pride would have been ashamed to own. She was guilty only of being less rich than he had supposed her to be.._
_John Thorpe had first misled him. The general, perceiving his son one night at the theatre to be paying considerable attention to Miss Morland, had accidentally inquired of Thorpe if he knew more of her than her name. Thorpe, most happy to be on speaking terms with a man of General Tilney’s importance, had been joyfully and proudly communicative; and being at that time not only in daily expectation of Morland’s engaging Isabella, but likewise pretty well resolved upon marrying Catherine himself, his vanity induced him to represent the family as yet more wealthy than his vanity and avarice had made him believe them.._
_Mr. and Mrs. Morland’s surprise on being applied to by Mr. Tilney for their consent to his marrying their daughter was, for a few minutes, considerable, it having never entered their heads to suspect an attachment on either side; but as nothing, after all, could be more natural than Catherine’s being beloved, they soon learnt to consider it with only the happy agitation of gratified pride, and, as far as they alone were concerned, had not a single objection to start.._
_There was but one obstacle, in short, to be mentioned; but till that one was removed, it must be impossible for them to sanction the engagement. Their tempers were mild, but their principles were steady, and while his parent so expressly forbade the connection, they could not allow themselves to encourage it. That the general should come forward to solicit the alliance, or that he should even very heartily approve it, they were not refined enough to make any parading stipulation; but the decent appearance of consent must be yielded, and that once obtained-and their own hearts made them trust that it could not be very long denied-their willing approbation was instantly to follow. His consent was all that they wished for.._
_..Henry returned to what was now his only home, to watch over his young plantations, and extend his improvements for her sake, to whose share in them he looked anxiously forward; and Catherine remained at Fullerton to cry. Whether the torments of absence were softened by a clandestine correspondence, let us not inquire. Mr. and Mrs. Morland never did-they had been too kind to exact any promise; and whenever Catherine received a letter, as, at that time, happened pretty often, they always looked another way._
_..The means by which their early marriage was effected can be the only doubt: what probable circumstance could work upon a temper like the General’s? The circumstance which chiefly availed was the marriage of his daughter with a man of fortune and consequence, which took place in the course of the summer-an accession of dignity that threw him into a fit of good humour, from which he did not recover till after Eleanor had obtained his forgiveness of Henry, and his permission for him “to be a fool if he liked it!”_
_..On the strength of this, the general, soon after Eleanor’s marriage, permitted his son to return to Northanger, and thence made him the bearer of his consent, very courteously worded in a page full of empty professions to Mr. Morland. The event which it authorized soon followed: Henry and Catherine were married, the bells rang, and everybody smiled; and, as this took place within a twelvemonth from the first day of their meeting, it will not appear, after all the dreadful delays occasioned by the General’s cruelty, that they were essentially hurt by it. To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty-six and eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself moreover convinced that the General’s unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience._
*_Northanger Abbey, Chapters 30 & 31_*
*SENSE & SENSIBILITY*
_Elinor now found the difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, and certainty itself. She now found, that in spite of herself, she had always admitted a hope, while Edward remained single, that something would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy.. But he was now married.._
_..“When do you write to Colonel Brandon, ma’am?” was an inquiry which sprung from the impatience of her mind to have something going on._
_“I wrote to him, my love, last week, and rather expect to see, than to hear from him again. I earnestly pressed his coming to us, and should not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day.”_
_This was gaining something, something to look forward to.._
_Scarcely had she so determined it, when the figure of a man on horseback drew her eyes to the window. He stopt at their gate. It was a gentleman, it was Colonel Brandon himself. Now she could hear more; and she trembled in expectation of it. But it was not Colonel Brandon; neither his air, nor his height. Were it possible, she must say it must be Edward. She looked again. He had just dismounted: she could not be mistaken,-it was Edward. She moved away and sat down. “He comes from Mr. Pratt’s purposely to see us. I will be calm; I will be mistress of myself.”_
_..She saw her mother and Marianne change colour; saw them look at herself, and whisper a few sentences to each other. She would have given the world to be able to speak-and to make them understand that she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear in their behaviour to him;-but she had no utterance, and was obliged to leave all to their own discretion._
_..They all waited in silence for the appearance of their visitor. His footsteps were heard along the gravel path; in a moment he was in the passage, and in another he was before them._
_His countenance, as he entered the room, was not too happy, even for Elinor. His complexion was white with agitation, and he looked as if fearful of his reception, and conscious that he merited no kind one. Mrs. Dashwood, however, conforming, as she trusted, to the wishes of that daughter, by whom she then meant in the warmth of her heart to be guided in every thing, met him with a look of forced complacency, gave him her hand, and wished him joy._
_He coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. Elinor’s lips had moved with her mother’s, and, when the moment of action was over, she wished that she had shaken hands with him too. But it was then too late, and with a countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again and talked of the weather._
_Marianne had retreated as much as possible out of sight, to conceal her distress; and Margaret, understanding some part, but not the whole of the case, thought it incumbent on her to be dignified, and therefore took a seat as far from him as she could, and maintained a strict silence._
_When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season, a very awful pause took place. It was put an end to by Mrs. Dashwood, who felt obliged to hope that he had left Mrs. Ferrars very well. In a hurried manner, he replied in the affirmative._
_Another pause._
_Elinor resolving to exert herself, though fearing the sound of her own voice, now said,_
_“Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?”_
_“At Longstaple!” he replied, with an air of surprise. “No, my mother is in town.”_
_“I meant,” said Elinor, taking up some work from the table, “to enquire for Mrs. Edward Ferrars.”_
_She dared not look up;-but her mother and Marianne both turned their eyes on him. He coloured, seemed perplexed, looked doubtingly, and, after some hesitation, said,-_
_“Perhaps you mean-my brother-you mean Mrs.-Mrs. Robert Ferrars.”_
_“Mrs. Robert Ferrars!” was repeated by Marianne and her mother in an accent of the utmost amazement; and though Elinor could not speak, even her eyes were fixed on him with the same impatient wonder. He rose from his seat, and walked to the window, apparently from not knowing what to do; took up a pair of scissors that lay there, and while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to pieces as he spoke, said, in a hurried voice,-_
_“Perhaps you do not know: you may not have heard that my brother is lately married to-to the youngest-to Miss Lucy Steele.”_
_His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but Elinor, who sat with her head leaning over her work, in a state of such agitation as made her hardly know where she was._
_“Yes,” said he, “they were married last week, and are now at Dawlish.”_
_Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw-or even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, quitted the room, and walked out towards the village-leaving the others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his situation, so wonderful and so sudden.._
_Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his release might appear to the whole family, it was certain that Edward was free; and to what purpose that freedom would be employed was easily pre-determined by all;-for after experiencing the blessings of one imprudent engagement, contracted without his mother’s consent, as he had already done for more than four years, nothing less could be expected of him in the failure of that, than the immediate contraction of another._
_His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. It was only to ask Elinor to marry him;-and considering that he was not altogether inexperienced in such a question, it might be strange that he should feel so uncomfortable in the present case as he really did, so much in need of encouragement and fresh air._
_How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly told.._
_His heart was now open to Elinor, all its weaknesses, all its errors confessed, and his first boyish attachment to Lucy treated with all the philosophic dignity of twenty-four._
_“It was a foolish, idle inclination on my side,” said he, “the consequence of ignorance of the world, and want of employment. Had my mother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen from the care of Mr. Pratt, I think, nay, I am sure, it would never have happened; for though I left Longstaple with what I thought, at the time, a most unconquerable preference for his niece, yet had I then had any pursuit, any object to engage my time and keep me at a distance from her for a few months, I should very soon have outgrown the fancied attachment, especially by mixing more with the world, as in such case I must have done. But instead of having any thing to do, instead of having any profession chosen for me, or being allowed to chuse any myself, I returned home to be completely idle; and for the first twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment, which belonging to the university would have given me; for I was not entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. I had therefore nothing in the world to do, but to fancy myself in love; and as my mother did not make my home in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, no companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, it was not unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, where I always felt myself at home, and was always sure of a welcome; and accordingly I spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen: Lucy appeared everything that was amiable and obliging. She was pretty too-at least I thought so then; and I had seen so little of other women, that I could make no comparisons, and see no defects. Considering everything, therefore, I hope, foolish as our engagement was, foolish as it has since in every way been proved, it was not at the time an unnatural or an inexcusable piece of folly.”_
_The change which a few hours had wrought in the minds and the happiness of the Dashwoods, was such-so great-as promised them all, the satisfaction of a sleepless night. Mrs. Dashwood, too happy to be comfortable, knew not how to love Edward, nor praise Elinor enough, how to be enough thankful for his release without wounding his delicacy, nor how at once to give them leisure for unrestrained conversation together, and yet enjoy, as she wished, the sight and society of both._
_Marianne could speak her happiness only by tears. Comparisons would occur-regrets would arise; and her joy, though sincere as her love for her sister, was of a kind to give her neither spirits nor language._
_But Elinor-how are her feelings to be described? From the moment of learning that Lucy was married to another, that Edward was free, to the moment of his justifying the hopes which had so instantly followed, she was every thing by turns but tranquil. But when the second moment had passed, when she found every doubt, every solicitude removed, compared her situation with what so lately it had been,-saw him honourably released from his former engagement,-saw him instantly profiting by the release, to address herself and declare an affection as tender, as constant as she had ever supposed it to be,-she was oppressed, she was overcome by her own felicity; and happily disposed as is the human mind to be easily familiarized with any change for the better, it required several hours to give sedateness to her spirits, or any degree of tranquillity to her heart._
*_Sense & Sensibility, Chapters 48 & 49_*
*PRIDE & PREJUDICE*
_Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s visit. The gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same._
_They walked towards the Lucases’, because Kitty wished to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was high, she immediately said,-_
_“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”_
_“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”_
_“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.”_
_“If you will thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.”_
_Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”_
_Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of feelings which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable._
_They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship’s apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise._
_“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly.”_
_Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations.”_
_“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”_
_“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”_
_“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”_
_“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way.”_
_“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me.”_
_“Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”_
_Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he,-“did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?”_
_She explained what its effects on her had been, and how gradually all her former prejudices had been removed._
_“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part, especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.”_
_“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies.”_
_“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit.”_
_“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”_
_“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of ignorance. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves, (my father particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable,) allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”_
_..After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that it was time to be at home._
*_Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 58_*
*MANSFIELD PARK*
_Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everybody, not greatly in fault themselves, to tolerable comfort, and to have done with all the rest._
_My Fanny, indeed, at this very time, I have the satisfaction of knowing, must have been happy in spite of everything. She must have been a happy creature in spite of all that she felt, or thought she felt, for the distress of those around her. She had sources of delight that must force their way. She was returned to Mansfield Park, she was useful, she was beloved; she was safe from Mr. Crawford; and when Sir Thomas came back she had every proof that could be given in his then melancholy state of spirits, of his perfect approbation and increased regard; and happy as all this must make her, she would still have been happy without any of it, for Edmund was no longer the dupe of Miss Crawford._
_It is true that Edmund was very far from happy himself. He was suffering from disappointment and regret, grieving over what was, and wishing for what could never be. She knew it was so, and was sorry; but it was with a sorrow so founded on satisfaction, so tending to ease, and so much in harmony with every dearest sensation, that there are few who might not have been glad to exchange their greatest gaiety for it._
_..He (Edmund) had not to wait and wish with vacant affections for an object worthy to succeed her in them. Scarcely had he done regretting Mary Crawford, and observing to Fanny how impossible it was that he should ever meet with such another woman, before it began to strike him whether a very different kind of woman might not do just as well, or a great deal better: whether Fanny herself were not growing as dear, as important to him in all her smiles and all her ways, as Mary Crawford had ever been; and whether it might not be a possible, a hopeful undertaking to persuade her that her warm and sisterly regard for him would be foundation enough for wedded love._
_I purposely abstain from dates on this occasion, that every one may be at liberty to fix their own, aware that the cure of unconquerable passions, and the transfer of unchanging attachments, must vary much as to time in different people. I only entreat everybody to believe that exactly at the time when it was quite natural that it should be so, and not a week earlier, Edmund did cease to care about Miss Crawford, and became as anxious to marry Fanny as Fanny herself could desire._
_With such a regard for her, indeed, as his had long been, a regard founded on the most endearing claims of innocence and helplessness, and completed by every recommendation of growing worth, what could be more natural than the change? Loving, guiding, protecting her, as he had been doing ever since her being ten years old, her mind in so great a degree formed by his care, and her comfort depending on his kindness, an object to him of such close and peculiar interest, dearer by all his own importance with her than any one else at Mansfield, what was there now to add, but that he should learn to prefer soft light eyes to sparkling dark ones. And being always with her, and always talking confidentially, and his feelings exactly in that favourable state which a recent disappointment gives, those soft light eyes could not be very long in obtaining the pre-eminence._
_Having once set out, and felt that he had done so on this road to happiness, there was nothing on the side of prudence to stop him or make his progress slow; no doubts of her deserving, no fears of opposition of taste, no need of drawing new hopes of happiness from dissimilarity of temper. Her mind, disposition, opinions, and habits wanted no half-concealment, no self-deception on the present, no reliance on future improvement. Even in the midst of his late infatuation, he had acknowledged Fanny’s mental superiority. What must be his sense of it now, therefore? She was of course only too good for him; but as nobody minds having what is too good for them, he was very steadily earnest in the pursuit of the blessing, and it was not possible that encouragement from her should be long wanting. Timid, anxious, doubting as she was, it was still impossible that such tenderness as hers should not, at times, hold out the strongest hope of success, though it remained for a later period to tell him the whole delightful and astonishing truth. His happiness in knowing himself to have been so long the beloved of such a heart, must have been great enough to warrant any strength of language in which he could clothe it to her or to himself; it must have been a delightful happiness. But there was happiness elsewhere which no description can reach. Let no one presume to give the feelings of a young woman on receiving the assurance of that affection of which she has scarcely allowed herself to entertain a hope._
*_Mansfield Park, Chapter 48_*
*EMMA*
_..she (Emma) lost no time in hurrying into the shrubbery.-There, with spirits freshened, and thoughts a little relieved, she had taken a few turns, when she saw Mr. Knightley passing through the garden door, and coming towards her.-It was the first intimation of his being returned from London. She had been thinking of him the moment before, as unquestionably sixteen miles distant.-There was time only for the quickest arrangement of mind. She must be collected and calm. In half a minute they were together. The “How d’ye do’s” were quiet and constrained on each side. She asked after their mutual friends; they were all well.-When had he left them?-Only that morning. He must have had a wet ride.-Yes.-He meant to walk with her, she found.._
_They walked together. He was silent.. She considered-resolved-and, trying to smile, began-_
_“You have some news to hear, now you are come back, that will rather surprize you.”_
_“Have I?” said he quietly, and looking at her; “of what nature?”_
_“Oh! the best nature in the world-a wedding.”_
_After waiting a moment, as if to be sure she intended to say no more, he replied,_
_“If you mean Miss Fairfax and Frank Churchill, I have heard that already.”_
_“How is it possible?” cried Emma, turning her glowing cheeks towards him; for, while she spoke, it occurred to her that he might have called at Mrs. Goddard’s in his way._
_“I had a few lines on parish business from Mr. Weston this morning, and at the end of them he gave me a brief account of what had happened.”_
_Emma was quite relieved, and could presently say, with a little more composure,_
_“You probably have been less surprized than any of us, for you have had your suspicions.-I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution.-I wish I had attended to it-but-(with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh) I seem to have been doomed to blindness.”_
_For a moment or two nothing was said, and she was unsuspicious of having excited any particular interest, till she found her arm drawn within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low,_
_“Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.-Your own excellent sense-your exertions for your father’s sake-I know you will not allow yourself-.” Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued accent, “The feelings of the warmest friendship-Indignation-Abominable scoundrel!”-And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, “He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for her. She deserves a better fate.”_
_Emma understood him; and as soon as she could recover from the flutter of pleasure, excited by such tender consideration, replied,_
_“You are very kind-but you are mistaken-and I must set you right.- I am not in want of that sort of compassion. My blindness to what was going on, led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of, and I was very foolishly tempted to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures, but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier.. I have very little to say for my own conduct.-I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.-An old story, probably-a common case-and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before.. I always found him very pleasant-and, in short, for (with a sigh) let me swell out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last-my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however-for some time, indeed-I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another.-It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself-except that I was not blinded-that it was my good fortune-that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him.”_
_..“He is a most fortunate man!” returned Mr. Knightley, with energy. “So early in life-at three-and-twenty-a period when, if a man chuses a wife, he generally chuses ill. At three-and-twenty to have drawn such a prize! What years of felicity that man, in all human calculation, has before him!-Assured of the love of such a woman-the disinterested love, for Jane Fairfax’s character vouches for her disinterestedness; every thing in his favour,-equality of situation-I mean, as far as regards society, and all the habits and manners that are important; equality in every point but one-and that one, since the purity of her heart is not to be doubted, such as must increase his felicity, for it will be his to bestow the only advantages she wants.-A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals.-Frank Churchill is, indeed, the favourite of fortune. Every thing turns out for his good.-He meets with a young woman at a watering-place, gains her affection, cannot even weary her by negligent treatment-and had he and all his family sought round the world for a perfect wife for him, they could not have found her superior.-His aunt is in the way.-His aunt dies.-He has only to speak.-His friends are eager to promote his happiness.-He had used every body ill-and they are all delighted to forgive him.-He is a fortunate man indeed!”_
_“You speak as if you envied him.”_
_“And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my envy.”_
_Emma could say no more. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet, and her immediate feeling was to avert the subject, if possible.. Mr. Knightley startled her, by saying,_
_“You will not ask me what is the point of envy.-You are determined, I see, to have no curiosity.-You are wise-but I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment.”_
_“Oh! then, don’t speak it, don’t speak it,” she eagerly cried. “Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself.”_
_“Thank you,” said he, in an accent of deep mortification, and not another syllable followed._
_Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide in her-perhaps to consult her;-cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it.._
_..And, after proceeding a few steps, she added-“I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.-But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation-as a friend, indeed, you may command me.-I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think.”_
_“As a friend!”-repeated Mr. Knightley.-“Emma, that I fear is a word-No, I have no wish-Stay, yes, why should I hesitate?-I have gone too far already for concealment.-Emma, I accept your offer-Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it, and refer myself to you as a friend.-Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?”_
_He stopped in his earnestness to look the question, and the expression of his eyes overpowered her._
_“My dearest Emma,” said he, “for dearest you will always be, whatever the event of this hour’s conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma-tell me at once. Say ‘No,’ if it is to be said.”-She could really say nothing.-“You are silent,” he cried, with great animation; “absolutely silent! at present I ask no more.”_
_Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation of this moment. The dread of being awakened from the happiest dream, was perhaps the most prominent feeling._
_“I cannot make speeches, Emma:” he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing.-“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.-You hear nothing but truth from me.-I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.-Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover.-But you understand me.-Yes, you see, you understand my feelings-and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice.”_
_While he spoke, Emma’s mind was most busy, and, with all the wonderful velocity of thought, had been able-and yet without losing a word-to catch and comprehend the exact truth of the whole; to see that Harriet’s hopes had been entirely groundless, a mistake, a delusion, as complete a delusion as any of her own-that Harriet was nothing; that she was every thing herself; that what she had been saying relative to Harriet had been all taken as the language of her own feelings; and that her agitation, her doubts, her reluctance, her discouragement, had been all received as discouragement from herself.. Her way was clear, though not quite smooth.-She spoke then, on being so entreated.-What did she say?-Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.-She said enough to shew there need not be despair-and to invite him to say more himself.._
_Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken; but where, as in this case, though the conduct is mistaken, the feelings are not, it may not be very material.-Mr. Knightley could not impute to Emma a more relenting heart than she possessed, or a heart more disposed to accept of his._
*_Emma, Vol 3, Chapter 13_*
Persuasion is in my personal top ten novels. ‘You pierce my soul - I am half agony, half hope. Tell me that I am not too late!’
One of the most romantic declarations in English Literature and testament to Austen’s genius.🥰
100% agree. The best of all of her novels. So grown up, slow burn, compelling. I love it.
Persuasion always confuses me, I think I need to make time to read it. I think when every has the same name it gets tricky :) But Pride and Prejudice will always be my favourite ❤
I loved it from the very beginning. It just reads different.
❤❤❤ O my lord...a proposal via letter ❤ persuasion ❤
My all time favorite book and ALL the movies! I can’t get enough of it!
Man, growing up in the 90s i forgot how good we had it. It was the era of jane Austen film adaptations, and other period films like little women and jane eyre. They just dint make em like they used to anymore. I miss it. I wish we would have another resurgence of really good films like this again, with beautiful music, amazing performances, and breathtaking scenery.
I feel the same.
A woman from 90s
I recommend checking out Emma. (2020) if you haven’t already. It’s based off of the Jane Austen story and think it is very well done. Anya Taylor-Joy stars in it. I also enjoyed the newer little women (not by Jane Austen but still a good story) movie from 2019. If I understood correctly it ended with Jo single, or at least up for interpretation if I’m misremembering. Louisa May Alcott, the writer of little woman originally wanted Jo to stay single but the publisher insisted that she make her marry so this was Greta Gerwig’s way of creating that story all these years later.
I think you all need to read a book with all due respect the average common woman did not have it that well these are rich affluent people. This is a story. And domestic violence mental abuse and cruelty to women when unpunished. And you were literally chattel. You could not own land or control your funds. Yes you were property. Maybe you need to real the real stories in the working classes and look at how they were treated.
@@lisasligh1577 I think most women realize these are fictional stories. Myself included. I majored in history and literature. I read quite a lot. Some of the books I read are by Elizabeth Gaskell, Charles Dickens, and Upton Sinclair. All of which wrote books about the working class. Books like these are just escapism, just like these films are escapism. The whole point of Jane Austen's novels were to have characters have the happy ending that she didn't have and for her characters to have a better life than she had.
@@amidthephantomsrose Jane Austen in her life, genuinely experienced what it was like to truly love. So she wrote about what she knew as all writers should do. The happy endings are believable, and very well crafted. It's not a fantasy it's only how, when you get over a relationship, to move on it's best to forget the bad stuff and not get stuck in that, and just remember the good times. So she invented the happy endings she didn't get. But all the different types of love I totally recognise and see in other people. The stories are quite subtly hard hitting about women's lack of agency during those times and the commercial nature of the marriage market. I think Emily Bronte wrote more about the real pain of love, that dark side of it, its powerful force, and how destructive it can be.
The 1995 Sense and Sensibility is such a testament to Emma Thompson's skill as a actress: her crying is so real and painful and physically overwhelming.
This version is the only one I'll watch, from the cast to the writing, music, direction, costumes, etc. I probably watch it several times per year (on DVD). The version here of Pride and Prejudice is another great favorite. I don't really know the other four stories, but now I'll have to read them and them and see these film adaptations. Shucks, what a hard job! :)
I cried the first time I watched it because her deep relief and joy was so perfect
And Hugh.Grant!
Skill as a writer too.
Agree! The acting in this was so compelling. An entire ensemble of talent.
"My affections and wishes are unchanged... but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever"
SWOON!
I love this Northanger Abbey. They genuinely look like 2 people who have never kissed before and aren't sure how to do it. Then they can't stop. 😂 It's so cute!
And also Catherine looks like she can't wait for Henry to finish his proposal so she can say yes. They were both so natural and adorable!
The most awkward, beautiful, real, pure love scene ever. Breaks my ❤ in the best way.
@@haegtesse Yes, exactly !! This scene is wonderful.
Tentative, and then she legit backs him into a tree 😂🥰🔥💕
When Wentworth and Anne can finaly hold hands after years of obstacles and estrangement. After thinking their chance of love was gone forever. Such a powerful scene. And it ties in with the famous opening lines of Persuasion. I love that book it was Austens best novel.
That is the most beautiful scene.
My favorite Austen novel, too.
A beautiful scene ruined by that stupid parade and the direction during the parade, and the terrible ending with the admiral. Ugh! Way to sap the romance out of the scene!
Great book (fourth on my list of JA, but I couldn’t put it down midway through); disappointing adaptation due entirely to audio and cinematography and direction.
@@paladin1726 I really like the movie, and Root and Hines were perfect. I absolutely agree with you about the stupid parade!
@@megofiachra3247 I likes that this was a pretty faithful adaptation of the book. I hated the direction and camerawork throughout the movie. This looked more like the director wanting to show off the camera skills and how artistic he is more than wanting to give a quality adaptation of the book and just tell a good story.
That line from persuasion we love the longest when all hope is gone . Damn I cry every time it's so true!
The best of Jane Austin’s films, series, etc…. Have always been the BBC productions. They have been the best!! Most true to Jane Austin’s books.
Thank you for picking the Persuasion version without the crazy running
The heavy breathing is just too much
And the ten minutes of coming in for a kiss while he stands there and watches her.
I hate that scene too
Oh my gosh right?! The crazy running, the spittle, the gawping fish-kiss...ughhhh
@@romulusthemainecoon3047That kiss was revolting!
1995 was a great year for Jane Austen's movie adaptation!!
Persuasión has always been in my top ten movies!! Amanda Root is such a non Hollywood type and so sweet, so sincere, Cierren Hinds is soooo dreamy and the story of love lost, ignored and then found is the best. Read the book only recently. (All her book are much better as movies, imo)
The films (as good as they are,) only scratch the surface of Austen’s writing. She not only deals in romance but manners, class, social interaction and of course prejudice and she does it in a witty, erudite way. The whole of Persuasion is filled with brilliant observations and descriptions that necessarily can’t be put into a 90 minute film.
But each to their own. It’s not totally necessary to read the books to appreciate her genius!😊
The beauty of Patrick Doyle's music in the _Sense and Sensibility_ clip is lovely.
I wish he made all the music for all the adaptations! Love his works 🥰🎶
The reactions to seeing Elinor lose control, for the first time in years and years, is so real
Alan Rickman was amazing in Sense and Sensibility... and Hugh Grant played the awkward Edward Ferras to perfection. A delightful cast all the way around.
Mark Strong, Alan Rickman, and Colin Firth 100% my historical thirst traps
Johnny Lee Miller pretty darn cute, too.
Mark Strong for the win in everything. Even if he's the baddie. Even when he went bald. 🔥
Yes indeed
Haha. I don't even know what a thirst trap is, but I'm laughing anyway.
Yes 😂❤❤
I don't remember watching this adaptation of Emma but god that's a good Knightley. I think that's the most natural sounding version of his speech I've heard so far
Emma? This is "Northanger Abbey"...
@@francescadelogu5969 These are adaptions of all the big six... Northanger Abbey is the first one yes, I was speaking about the fifth one in this video, which is an adaption of Emma
That's my favorite adaptation, the most faithful to the book!
@@francescadelogu5969 18:09
"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." ❤❤
Ciarán Hinds and Amanda Root ❤️❤️. Amanda playing Austen's sweetest and gentlest heroine. The flawless Sophie Thompson as the awful Mary. This never needs a remake.
Amanda Root was absolutely magnificent as Anne Elliot. She is one of the greatest actresses of all time. I cannot stop watching the scene in which Captain Benwick tells Anne, "You have no conception of what I have lost" and she replies "Yes I have", as Captain Wentworth glances their way.
That she could write with such love and softness at the romances & happy endings of her sisters when she didn’t get one herself.
Who?
I know! So true❤️💔
Jane herself
All of these proposal scenes were beautifully written and beautifully portrayed by a wealth of wonderful actors. I thoroughly enjoyed each and every one. But my personal favorite is the scene from the 1996 EMMA, with Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong. While Kate was charming, delightful, headstrong at times, and everything Emma is meant to be, it was Mark who won me over completely as Mr. Knightly. He was simply astonishing, in my estimation, and brought every nuance one could hope for to the role. He could not stay away, no matter how hard he tried or how completely despairing he was at times of her self-indulgent behavior. And yes, he lectured her when he felt it necessary to do so. "Badly done, Emma! Badly done!" He was older, but not too much. He was handsome, but not perfect. And though he said he had no skills for speaking of love, he did so with great persuasion and elegance. Yes, they did pretty much stick to Austen's words, and they delivered them exquisitely. The movie was perfectly cast, and all the players were excellent, but, for me, it was Mark Strong who made that movie totally unforgettable!
I agree with you, but I still must cherish Mark Strong as a superlative villain in the Sherlock Holmes movie with Robert Downey Junior and Jude Law. He is a wonderful actor, in the manner of Alan Rickman, and I like him in most of his roles.
@@barbarahecht4617 I haven't seen that movie, but I do agree with you! I loved Mark as a villain in Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day! I can't remember the names of other movies right now, but I've seen him in several roles, very different to the role of Mr. Knightly, and always was impressed. I think he's highly under-rated as an actor. I will look for the Sherlock Holmes movie, based on your assessment.
Mark Strong is also quite the menacing villain in the movie adaptation of Neil Gaiman’s fantasy novella, Stardust. IMO that movie is right up there w/ The Princess Bride ~ tho’ less innocent, more adult. Strong is very talented ~ Emma is the first film in which I saw him & his is the best performance of any version I’ve seen.
Blimey! I couldn't have written a better praise for Mr Knightley or Mark Strong, myself! Very well done! 😂❤❤
Agreed! Mark Strong's acting was powerful, yet nuanced. Masterfully done!
Gosh, what a lovely video for us old romantic souls 😌 I was thoroughly enchanted and I thank you for taking the time to put it together 🤗
JJ Feild is so underrated. Catherine and Henry are my favorites 💛
Mine too! They are perfect!
SAME SAME SAME!!! 😍😍
Emma Thompson's reaction is so real and so honest it gets me every singe time. I have watched it so many times and it always brings a tear to my eye and a lump my throat. Truly one of best dramatic scenes in the history of historic drama.
I have never watched or read Emma before so I was definitely caught off guard by the 'I held you in my arms when you were 3 weeks old'.
Lmao!
Yeah I don't remember reading that line... maybe it's a film addiction. I am not quite sure though.
Same! I came to the comments hoping someone would say "It's all good. He was like 4 and their moms thought it'd be cute to have him hold her." Someone tell me that's what happened, please.
There is a sixteen year age difference between Emma and Mr. Knightley. However, this particular dialogue does not occur in the book and seems to have been invented for the film.
@Mistress.of.Pemberley Oh the writers are diabolical for making the actor say that!🤣
I just don't know why they thought that's a good line to ad xD like I never found their age gap weird since it wasn't that uncommon at the time and they had a eye to eye friendship, he just held her accountable for her bullshit. But that line makes it feel kinda wrong.
Colin Firth as Darcy..every single time 🥰
everything was perfect, the scenery, the weather, the music.............Colin 🥰
Don’t forget the pond scene😂
Colin Firth best Mr Darcy seen all the versions then David Rintoul. 2nd.
Colin Firth was born to play Fitzwilliam Darcy!
*PRIDE & PREJUDICE*
_Instead of receiving any such letter of excuse from his friend, as Elizabeth half expected Mr. Bingley to do, he was able to bring Darcy with him to Longbourn before many days had passed after Lady Catherine’s visit. The gentlemen arrived early; and, before Mrs. Bennet had time to tell him of their having seen his aunt, of which her daughter sat in momentary dread, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane, proposed their all walking out. It was agreed to. Mrs. Bennet was not in the habit of walking, Mary could never spare time, but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Jane, however, soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind, while Elizabeth, Kitty, and Darcy were to entertain each other. Very little was said by either; Kitty was too much afraid of him to talk; Elizabeth was secretly forming a desperate resolution; and, perhaps, he might be doing the same._
_They walked towards the Lucases’, because Kitty wished to call upon Maria; and as Elizabeth saw no occasion for making it a general concern, when Kitty left them she went boldly on with him alone. Now was the moment for her resolution to be executed; and while her courage was high, she immediately said,-_
_“Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, and for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings care not how much I may be wounding yours. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family I should not have merely my own gratitude to express.”_
_“I am sorry, exceedingly sorry,” replied Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, “that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted.”_
_“You must not blame my aunt. Lydia’s thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them.”_
_“If you will thank me,” he replied, “let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.”_
_Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word. After a short pause, her companion added, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever.”_
_Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before; and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him: but though she could not look she could listen; and he told her of feelings which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable._
_They walked on without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through London, and there relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth; dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter, which, in her Ladyship’s apprehension, peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance, in the belief that such a relation must assist her endeavours to obtain that promise from her nephew which she had refused to give. But, unluckily for her Ladyship, its effect had been exactly contrariwise._
_“It taught me to hope,” said he, “as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain, that had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine frankly and openly.”_
_Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, “Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations.”_
_“What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence.”_
_“We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening,” said Elizabeth. “The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then we have both, I hope, improved in civility.”_
_“I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: ‘Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.’ Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me; though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice.”_
_“I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way.”_
_“I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me.”_
_“Oh, do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it.”_
_Darcy mentioned his letter. “Did it,” said he,-“did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?”_
_She explained what its effects on her had been, and how gradually all her former prejudices had been removed._
_“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part, especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.”_
_“The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies.”_
_“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit.”_
_“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote and the person who received it are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”_
_“I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of ignorance. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude, which cannot, which ought not to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves, (my father particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable,) allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”_
_..After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know anything about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that it was time to be at home._
*_Pride & Prejudice, Chapter 58_*
Captain Wentworth *swoon* This is the best version too! Thank you for this compilation!
Absolutely the best version! I was lucky enough to see Amanda Root and Ciaran Hinds onstage a couple years earlier. Seeing them together in this was just... perfection. 🥰
@@alyzu4755 oh wow! You’re so lucky! Ciaran Hinds is one of my favorite actors overall but esp in romantic hero roles like Persuasion and Jane Eyre.
@@alyzu4755Troilus and Cressida 1991? Ciarán with his long, black leather coat and huge sword. Phew.
@@GreyWinterSky Oh yes! 😍
@@alyzu4755 Newcastle Playhouse? Ralph Fiennes was in it too. My friend was very excited to see RF ... until Mr Hinds appeared on stage. I leaned over to her and whispered, "Ralph who?". She asked how I knew what she was thinking - it was because I was thinking the same thing. ☺️
Thank you for this! Not all were my favorite sdaption but as they are the words of Miss Austen, I relish them all. Thank you for sharing this and the work you put into it!
Thank you! Some of the adaptations featured here weren't my personal favourites either, but I felt faithfulness of the scene to Austen's text would be a more neutral and objective criteria for selecting them. 🙂
I love Emma's version with Gwyneth Paltrow and Jeremy Northam. The proposal scene from Persuasion is my favourite, always in the BBC 1995 version. It is the most deeply felt, melancholic and beautiful of them all: "I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. (...) I tried to forget you. I thought I had."
I quite like the 1995 Persuasion with Ciaran Hinds, but I always felt Amanda Root was miscast. I just cant see that he lost his mind over her.
Anne is described by Austen, as having a sweet nature, and an elegance of mind, she is level headed, gentle, intelligent misunderstood by her vulgar, narcissistic family. When Wentworth is in Bath, he hints to Anne how he feels about her, in comparing Louisa Musgrove to Sophie Harville. "A man does not get over such a devotion, to such a women..."etc,
*PERSUASION - The conversation*
_When she (Anne) reached the White Hart, and made her way to the proper apartment, she found herself neither arriving quite in time, nor the first to arrive. The party before her were, Mrs Musgrove, talking to Mrs Croft, and Captain Harville to Captain Wentworth; and she immediately heard that Mary and Henrietta, too impatient to wait, had gone out the moment it had cleared, but would be back again soon, and that the strictest injunctions had been left with Mrs Musgrove to keep her there till they returned.._
_Mrs Musgrove was giving Mrs Croft the history of her eldest daughter’s engagement, and just in that inconvenient tone of voice which was perfectly audible while it pretended to be a whisper. Anne felt that she did not belong to the conversation, and yet, as Captain Harville seemed thoughtful and not disposed to talk, she could not avoid hearing many undesirable particulars.._
_Captain Harville, who had in truth been hearing none of it, now left his seat, and moved to a window, and Anne seeming to watch him, though it was from thorough absence of mind, became gradually sensible that he was inviting her to join him where he stood.. The window at which he stood was at the other end of the room from where the two ladies were sitting, and though nearer to Captain Wentworth’s table, not very near. As she joined him, Captain Harville’s countenance re-assumed the serious, thoughtful expression which seemed its natural character._
_“Look here,” said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, and displaying a small miniature painting, “do you know who that is?”_
_“Certainly: Captain Benwick.”_
_“Yes, and you may guess who it is for. But,” (in a deep tone,) “it was not done for her. Miss Elliot, do you remember our walking together at Lyme, and grieving for him? I little thought then-but no matter. This was drawn at the Cape. He met with a clever young German artist at the Cape, and in compliance with a promise to my poor sister, sat to him, and was bringing it home for her; and I have now the charge of getting it properly set for another! It was a commission to me! But who else was there to employ? I hope I can allow for him. I am not sorry, indeed, to make it over to another. He undertakes it;” (looking towards Captain Wentworth,) “he is writing about it now.” And with a quivering lip he wound up the whole by adding, “Poor Fanny! she would not have forgotten him so soon!”_
_“No,” replied Anne, in a low, feeling voice. “That I can easily believe.”_
_“It was not in her nature. She doted on him.”_
_“It would not be the nature of any woman who truly loved.”_
_Captain Harville smiled, as much as to say, “Do you claim that for your sex?” and she answered the question, smiling also, “Yes. We certainly do not forget you as soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You have always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or other, to take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions.”_
_“Granting your assertion that the world does all this so soon for men (which, however, I do not think I shall grant), it does not apply to Benwick. He has not been forced upon any exertion. The peace turned him on shore at the very moment, and he has been living with us, in our little family circle, ever since.”_
_“True,” said Anne, “very true; I did not recollect; but what shall we say now, Captain Harville? If the change be not from outward circumstances, it must be from within; it must be nature, man’s nature, which has done the business for Captain Benwick.”_
_“No, no, it is not man’s nature. I will not allow it to be more man’s nature than woman’s to be inconstant and forget those they do love, or have loved. I believe the reverse. I believe in a true analogy between our bodily frames and our mental; and that as our bodies are the strongest, so are our feelings; capable of bearing most rough usage, and riding out the heaviest weather.”_
_“Your feelings may be the strongest,” replied Anne, “but the same spirit of analogy will authorise me to assert that ours are the most tender. Man is more robust than woman, but he is not longer lived; which exactly explains my view of the nature of their attachments. Nay, it would be too hard upon you, if it were otherwise. You have difficulties, and privations, and dangers enough to struggle with. You are always labouring and toiling, exposed to every risk and hardship. Your home, country, friends, all quitted. Neither time, nor health, nor life, to be called your own. It would be hard, indeed” (with a faltering voice), “if woman’s feelings were to be added to all this.”_
_“We shall never agree upon this question,” Captain Harville was beginning to say, when a slight noise called their attention to Captain Wentworth’s hitherto perfectly quiet division of the room. It was nothing more than that his pen had fallen down; but Anne was startled at finding him nearer than she had supposed, and half inclined to suspect that the pen had only fallen because he had been occupied by them, striving to catch sounds, which yet she did not think he could have caught._
_“Have you finished your letter?” said Captain Harville._
_“Not quite, a few lines more. I shall have done in five minutes.”_
_“There is no hurry on my side. I am only ready whenever you are. I am in very good anchorage here,” (smiling at Anne,) “well supplied, and want for nothing. No hurry for a signal at all. Well, Miss Elliot,” (lowering his voice,) “as I was saying we shall never agree, I suppose, upon this point. No man and woman, would, probably. But let me observe that all histories are against you-all stories, prose and verse. If I had such a memory as Benwick, I could bring you fifty quotations in a moment on my side the argument, and I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not something to say upon woman’s inconstancy. Songs and proverbs, all talk of woman’s fickleness. But perhaps you will say, these were all written by men.”_
_“Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything.”_
_“But how shall we prove anything?”_
_“We never shall. We never can expect to prove any thing upon such a point. It is a difference of opinion which does not admit of proof. We each begin, probably, with a little bias towards our own sex; and upon that bias build every circumstance in favour of it which has occurred within our own circle; many of which circumstances (perhaps those very cases which strike us the most) may be precisely such as cannot be brought forward without betraying a confidence, or in some respect saying what should not be said.”_
_“Ah!” cried Captain Harville, in a tone of strong feeling, “if I could but make you comprehend what a man suffers when he takes a last look at his wife and children, and watches the boat that he has sent them off in, as long as it is in sight, and then turns away and says, ‘God knows whether we ever meet again!’ And then, if I could convey to you the glow of his soul when he does see them again; when, coming back after a twelvemonth’s absence, perhaps, and obliged to put into another port, he calculates how soon it be possible to get them there, pretending to deceive himself, and saying, ‘They cannot be here till such a day,’ but all the while hoping for them twelve hours sooner, and seeing them arrive at last, as if Heaven had given them wings, by many hours sooner still! If I could explain to you all this, and all that a man can bear and do, and glories to do, for the sake of these treasures of his existence! I speak, you know, only of such men as have hearts!” pressing his own with emotion._
_“Oh!” cried Anne eagerly, “I hope I do justice to all that is felt by you, and by those who resemble you. God forbid that I should undervalue the warm and faithful feelings of any of my fellow-creatures! I should deserve utter contempt if I dared to suppose that true attachment and constancy were known only by woman. No, I believe you capable of everything great and good in your married lives. I believe you equal to every important exertion, and to every domestic forbearance, so long as-if I may be allowed the expression-so long as you have an object. I mean while the woman you love lives, and lives for you. All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.”_
_She could not immediately have uttered another sentence; her heart was too full, her breath too much oppressed.._
_Their attention was called towards the others. Mrs Croft was taking leave._
_“Here, Frederick, you and I part company, I believe,” said she. “I am going home, and you have an engagement with your friend. To-night we may have the pleasure of all meeting again at your party,” (turning to Anne.) “We had your sister’s card yesterday, and I understood Frederick had a card too, though I did not see it; and you are disengaged, Frederick, are you not, as well as ourselves?”_
_Captain Wentworth was folding up a letter in great haste, and either could not or would not answer fully._
_“Yes,” said he, “very true; here we separate, but Harville and I shall soon be after you; that is, Harville, if you are ready, I am in half a minute. I know you will not be sorry to be off. I shall be at your service in half a minute.”_
*_Persuasion, Chapter 23_*
This Scene from Sense & Sensibility is done so well. From Edward's 'natural', adorable clumsiness to Elinor's breathless cry and Happy tears ~ I loved every moment of it❣️
thank you for including the entire Persuasion sequence, VITAL CONTENT. no one is doing it like them. so hot, so romantic, i believe in their love and their future. also, shout out to arthur weasley as a mummer.
Northanger Abbey is perfect! JJ Feild and Felicity Jones a charming couple! Thanks for this video.
Thank you so much for putting this together! Balm for the soul.
An island of happiness ! Thank you so much from France .
This compilation is delightful. Thank you so much for this. I always look forward to your videos!
*PERSUASION - The letter*
_Mrs Croft left them, and Captain Wentworth, having sealed his letter with great rapidity, was indeed ready, and had even a hurried, agitated air, which shewed impatience to be gone. Anne knew not how to understand it. She had the kindest “Good morning, God bless you!” from Captain Harville, but from him not a word, nor a look! He had passed out of the room without a look!_
_She had only time, however, to move closer to the table where he had been writing, when footsteps were heard returning; the door opened, it was himself. He begged their pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves, and instantly crossing the room to the writing table, he drew out a letter from under the scattered paper, placed it before Anne with eyes of glowing entreaty fixed on her for a time, and hastily collecting his gloves, was again out of the room, almost before Mrs Musgrove was aware of his being in it: the work of an instant!_
_The revolution which one instant had made in Anne, was almost beyond expression. The letter, with a direction hardly legible, to “Miss A. E.-,” was evidently the one which he had been folding so hastily. While supposed to be writing only to Captain Benwick, he had been also addressing her! On the contents of that letter depended all which this world could do for her. Anything was possible, anything might be defied rather than suspense. Mrs Musgrove had little arrangements of her own at her own table; to their protection she must trust, and sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes devoured the following words:_
_“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in_
_F. W._
_“I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this evening or never.”_
_Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from. Half an hour’s solitude and reflection might have tranquillized her; but the ten minutes only which now passed before she was interrupted, with all the restraints of her situation, could do nothing towards tranquillity. Every moment rather brought fresh agitation. It was overpowering happiness. And before she was beyond the first stage of full sensation, Charles, Mary, and Henrietta all came in._
_The absolute necessity of seeming like herself produced then an immediate struggle; but after a while she could do no more. She began not to understand a word they said, and was obliged to plead indisposition and excuse herself. They could then see that she looked very ill, were shocked and concerned, and would not stir without her for the world. This was dreadful. Would they only have gone away, and left her in the quiet possession of that room it would have been her cure; but to have them all standing or waiting around her was distracting, and in desperation, she said she would go home._
_“By all means, my dear,” cried Mrs Musgrove, “go home directly, and take care of yourself, that you may be fit for the evening. I wish Sarah was here to doctor you, but I am no doctor myself. Charles, ring and order a chair. She must not walk.”_
_But the chair would never do. Worse than all! To lose the possibility of speaking two words to Captain Wentworth in the course of her quiet, solitary progress up the town (and she felt almost certain of meeting him) could not be borne. The chair was earnestly protested against, and Mrs Musgrove, who thought only of one sort of illness, having assured herself with some anxiety, that there had been no fall in the case; that Anne had not at any time lately slipped down, and got a blow on her head; that she was perfectly convinced of having had no fall; could part with her cheerfully, and depend on finding her better at night._
_Anxious to omit no possible precaution, Anne struggled, and said-_
_“I am afraid, ma’am, that it is not perfectly understood. Pray be so good as to mention to the other gentlemen that we hope to see your whole party this evening. I am afraid there had been some mistake; and I wish you particularly to assure Captain Harville and Captain Wentworth, that we hope to see them both.”_
_“Oh! my dear, it is quite understood, I give you my word. Captain Harville has no thought but of going.”_
_“Do you think so? But I am afraid; and I should be so very sorry. Will you promise me to mention it, when you see them again? You will see them both this morning, I dare say. Do promise me.”_
_“To be sure I will, if you wish it. Charles, if you see Captain Harville anywhere, remember to give Miss Anne’s message. But indeed, my dear, you need not be uneasy. Captain Harville holds himself quite engaged, I’ll answer for it; and Captain Wentworth the same, I dare say.”_
_Anne could do no more; but her heart prophesied some mischance to damp the perfection of her felicity. It could not be very lasting, however. Even if he did not come to Camden Place himself, it would be in her power to send an intelligible sentence by Captain Harville. Another momentary vexation occurred. Charles, in his real concern and good nature, would go home with her; there was no preventing him. This was almost cruel. But she could not be long ungrateful; he was sacrificing an engagement at a gunsmith’s, to be of use to her; and she set off with him, with no feeling but gratitude apparent._
_They were on Union Street, when a quicker step behind, a something of familiar sound, gave her two moments’ preparation for the sight of Captain Wentworth. He joined them; but, as if irresolute whether to join or to pass on, said nothing, only looked. Anne could command herself enough to receive that look, and not repulsively. The cheeks which had been pale now glowed, and the movements which had hesitated were decided. He walked by her side. Presently, struck by a sudden thought, Charles said-_
_“Captain Wentworth, which way are you going? Only to Gay Street, or farther up the town?”_
_“I hardly know,” replied Captain Wentworth, surprised._
_“Are you going as high as Belmont? Are you going near Camden Place? Because, if you are, I shall have no scruple in asking you to take my place, and give Anne your arm to her father’s door. She is rather done for this morning, and must not go so far without help, and I ought to be at that fellow’s in the Market Place. He promised me the sight of a capital gun he is just going to send off; said he would keep it unpacked to the last possible moment, that I might see it; and if I do not turn back now, I have no chance. By his description, a good deal like the second size double-barrel of mine, which you shot with one day round Winthrop.”_
_There could not be an objection. There could be only the most proper alacrity, a most obliging compliance for public view; and smiles reined in and spirits dancing in private rapture. In half a minute Charles was at the bottom of Union Street again, and the other two proceeding together: and soon words enough had passed between them to decide their direction towards the comparatively quiet and retired gravel walk, where the power of conversation would make the present hour a blessing indeed, and prepare it for all the immortality which the happiest recollections of their own future lives could bestow. There they exchanged again those feelings and those promises which had once before seemed to secure everything, but which had been followed by so many, many years of division and estrangement. There they returned again into the past, more exquisitely happy, perhaps, in their re-union, than when it had been first projected; more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge of each other’s character, truth, and attachment; more equal to act, more justified in acting. And there, as they slowly paced the gradual ascent, heedless of every group around them, seeing neither sauntering politicians, bustling housekeepers, flirting girls, nor nursery-maids and children, they could indulge in those retrospections and acknowledgements, and especially in those explanations of what had directly preceded the present moment, which were so poignant and so ceaseless in interest. All the little variations of the last week were gone through; and of yesterday and today there could scarcely be an end._
*_Persuasion, Chapter 23_*
Saved the best for last…my most favorite Jane Austin story.
If it wasn't for the lack of sanitation, women's rights and the high probability of being a servant - this would have been a great time to experience. :)
You made me laugh, but remember there was love and romance in the lower orders.
Oh do shut up. Feminism has done women very few favours.
_I could easily comment on each one separately📚 but I would just be repeating myself, for each gently stirs the same emotions ~ a smile, Butterflies 🦋 and a sniffle or two😊 It's amazing that each, totally different, somehow were produced, written & directed with the same common denominator ~ remaining true to the Vision of the writer_
2:03 Catherine's siblings just staring expressionless at Mr. Tilney, so funny XD
Like from a horror.
I've read them all, seen the movies, and I love them so much!!! ❤ Thank you!
Apologies, kind of, to those who enjoy the Keira Knightly "Pride & Prejudice" or the Gwyneth Paltrow "Emma." Terrible adaptations! The music was good, I can give them that. 😉
I love the sass of Catherine Morland’s little sister 😂
So do I! ☺️
@@alyzu4755I also love Margaret Dashwood in S&S. She usually gets left out of adaptations.
@@catgladwell5684 Oh yes! 😍
@@catgladwell5684SO DO I!!
" cathie!!!! mam.... " ( small gouvernante) i love it tooo 😂😂😂😂
Finally, some love for Kate Beckinsale and Mark Strong’s Emma!
You saved the best for last. Persuasion is my favorite of the Austen novels, and Amanda Root is the perfect Anne Elliot. Her expressions - especially her eyes - are more eloquent than mere words. She is my favorite Austen heroine. .
And her horrible family are incomparable. In fact, every single character is done to perfection. Even such minor ones as Miss Smith and her companion.
Elinor's reaction gets me every single time, it's so emotional, so rare in her, my fav scene in thw whole film
Persuasion 1995 wonderful cast. Loved that one..plus 2007.
We Americans see all these classics on Masterpiece Theatre with PBS. Have seen them since I was a little girl growing up in NY. And still watching MT at age 65.
Oooh Im so glad this came up for me!! Jane Austen got me through such a tough time in my life. Reading these books and watching these adaptations really helped me get through it. These are all my favorite adaptations. Thank you so much for compiling these scenes.
I have read and reread Austen all my life, starting in my teenage years. Your choices are fantastic and well thought out. This video is a balm to my soul, while I navigate helping aging parents.Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🙏
Thanks for compiling. Love, love, love, love, love, love!
Thank you for the Northanger Abbey ending! Its perfect!
Jane Austen’s novels & movies have been my best friends for years, providing me an escape from reality … all so Beautiful! ❤
Hi these scenes show how good Jane Austen books are so great as movies ,will be reading & watching more this year ,
The British are incredibly courteous. My Mother was half British and it is in the genes as she was naturally polite and even tempered. I dream of a world such as this now.
I wish that was still the case. I think even 20 years ago when I came to Britain they were more courteous than today. After all, that's exactly what attracted me to my ex husband, the utmost of care he handled my heart with. Polite, gentle and genteel. ❤
And the music soundtrack to Sense and Sensibility is so amazingly beautiful too! I still listen to it
I love how you picked from all of the best versions! What a great video. Thank you so much.
*EMMA*
_..she (Emma) lost no time in hurrying into the shrubbery.-There, with spirits freshened, and thoughts a little relieved, she had taken a few turns, when she saw Mr. Knightley passing through the garden door, and coming towards her.-It was the first intimation of his being returned from London. She had been thinking of him the moment before, as unquestionably sixteen miles distant.-There was time only for the quickest arrangement of mind. She must be collected and calm. In half a minute they were together. The “How d’ye do’s” were quiet and constrained on each side. She asked after their mutual friends; they were all well.-When had he left them?-Only that morning. He must have had a wet ride.-Yes.-He meant to walk with her, she found.._
_They walked together. He was silent.. She considered-resolved-and, trying to smile, began-_
_“You have some news to hear, now you are come back, that will rather surprize you.”_
_“Have I?” said he quietly, and looking at her; “of what nature?”_
_“Oh! the best nature in the world-a wedding.”_
_After waiting a moment, as if to be sure she intended to say no more, he replied,_
_“If you mean Miss Fairfax and Frank Churchill, I have heard that already.”_
_“How is it possible?” cried Emma, turning her glowing cheeks towards him; for, while she spoke, it occurred to her that he might have called at Mrs. Goddard’s in his way._
_“I had a few lines on parish business from Mr. Weston this morning, and at the end of them he gave me a brief account of what had happened.”_
_Emma was quite relieved, and could presently say, with a little more composure,_
_“You probably have been less surprized than any of us, for you have had your suspicions.-I have not forgotten that you once tried to give me a caution.-I wish I had attended to it-but-(with a sinking voice and a heavy sigh) I seem to have been doomed to blindness.”_
_For a moment or two nothing was said, and she was unsuspicious of having excited any particular interest, till she found her arm drawn within his, and pressed against his heart, and heard him thus saying, in a tone of great sensibility, speaking low,_
_“Time, my dearest Emma, time will heal the wound.-Your own excellent sense-your exertions for your father’s sake-I know you will not allow yourself-.” Her arm was pressed again, as he added, in a more broken and subdued accent, “The feelings of the warmest friendship-Indignation-Abominable scoundrel!”-And in a louder, steadier tone, he concluded with, “He will soon be gone. They will soon be in Yorkshire. I am sorry for her. She deserves a better fate.”_
_Emma understood him; and as soon as she could recover from the flutter of pleasure, excited by such tender consideration, replied,_
_“You are very kind-but you are mistaken-and I must set you right.- I am not in want of that sort of compassion. My blindness to what was going on, led me to act by them in a way that I must always be ashamed of, and I was very foolishly tempted to say and do many things which may well lay me open to unpleasant conjectures, but I have no other reason to regret that I was not in the secret earlier.. I have very little to say for my own conduct.-I was tempted by his attentions, and allowed myself to appear pleased.-An old story, probably-a common case-and no more than has happened to hundreds of my sex before.. I always found him very pleasant-and, in short, for (with a sigh) let me swell out the causes ever so ingeniously, they all centre in this at last-my vanity was flattered, and I allowed his attentions. Latterly, however-for some time, indeed-I have had no idea of their meaning any thing.. He has imposed on me, but he has not injured me. I have never been attached to him. And now I can tolerably comprehend his behaviour. He never wished to attach me. It was merely a blind to conceal his real situation with another.-It was his object to blind all about him; and no one, I am sure, could be more effectually blinded than myself-except that I was not blinded-that it was my good fortune-that, in short, I was somehow or other safe from him.”_
_..“He is a most fortunate man!” returned Mr. Knightley, with energy. “So early in life-at three-and-twenty-a period when, if a man chuses a wife, he generally chuses ill. At three-and-twenty to have drawn such a prize! What years of felicity that man, in all human calculation, has before him!-Assured of the love of such a woman-the disinterested love, for Jane Fairfax’s character vouches for her disinterestedness; every thing in his favour,-equality of situation-I mean, as far as regards society, and all the habits and manners that are important; equality in every point but one-and that one, since the purity of her heart is not to be doubted, such as must increase his felicity, for it will be his to bestow the only advantages she wants.-A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals.-Frank Churchill is, indeed, the favourite of fortune. Every thing turns out for his good.-He meets with a young woman at a watering-place, gains her affection, cannot even weary her by negligent treatment-and had he and all his family sought round the world for a perfect wife for him, they could not have found her superior.-His aunt is in the way.-His aunt dies.-He has only to speak.-His friends are eager to promote his happiness.-He had used every body ill-and they are all delighted to forgive him.-He is a fortunate man indeed!”_
_“You speak as if you envied him.”_
_“And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my envy.”_
_Emma could say no more. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet, and her immediate feeling was to avert the subject, if possible.. Mr. Knightley startled her, by saying,_
_“You will not ask me what is the point of envy.-You are determined, I see, to have no curiosity.-You are wise-but I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment.”_
_“Oh! then, don’t speak it, don’t speak it,” she eagerly cried. “Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself.”_
_“Thank you,” said he, in an accent of deep mortification, and not another syllable followed._
_Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide in her-perhaps to consult her;-cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it.._
_..And, after proceeding a few steps, she added-“I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.-But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation-as a friend, indeed, you may command me.-I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think.”_
_“As a friend!”-repeated Mr. Knightley.-“Emma, that I fear is a word-No, I have no wish-Stay, yes, why should I hesitate?-I have gone too far already for concealment.-Emma, I accept your offer-Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it, and refer myself to you as a friend.-Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?”_
_He stopped in his earnestness to look the question, and the expression of his eyes overpowered her._
_“My dearest Emma,” said he, “for dearest you will always be, whatever the event of this hour’s conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma-tell me at once. Say ‘No,’ if it is to be said.”-She could really say nothing.-“You are silent,” he cried, with great animation; “absolutely silent! at present I ask no more.”_
_Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation of this moment. The dread of being awakened from the happiest dream, was perhaps the most prominent feeling._
_“I cannot make speeches, Emma:” he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing.-“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.-You hear nothing but truth from me.-I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.-Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover.-But you understand me.-Yes, you see, you understand my feelings-and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice.”_
_While he spoke, Emma’s mind was most busy, and, with all the wonderful velocity of thought, had been able-and yet without losing a word-to catch and comprehend the exact truth of the whole; to see that Harriet’s hopes had been entirely groundless, a mistake, a delusion, as complete a delusion as any of her own-that Harriet was nothing; that she was every thing herself; that what she had been saying relative to Harriet had been all taken as the language of her own feelings; and that her agitation, her doubts, her reluctance, her discouragement, had been all received as discouragement from herself.. Her way was clear, though not quite smooth.-She spoke then, on being so entreated.-What did she say?-Just what she ought, of course. A lady always does.-She said enough to shew there need not be despair-and to invite him to say more himself.._
_Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken; but where, as in this case, though the conduct is mistaken, the feelings are not, it may not be very material.-Mr. Knightley could not impute to Emma a more relenting heart than she possessed, or a heart more disposed to accept of his._
*_Emma, Vol 3, Chapter 13_*
“If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more.” I’ve always lived that line for some reason ❤
This is fantastic! Thank you so for taking the time to put this together!!❤️
That was my favourite Persuasion, but the most wonderful Emma was the 2021 version with Johnny Flynn and Anya Taylor-Joy. Sucha beautiful production and amazing cast.
Yes that’s my favorite!
I prefer the 2009 adaptation with Michael Gambon and Jonny Lee Miller.
@@kristen_franklin I love it, but I love all the Austen adaptations. I think it's wonderful to see how differently the source material is influenced over time.
Wonderful compilation of happy ending scenes... Thank you! That breathtaking letter at the end of Persuasion followed by Wentworth's declaration in the street is so romantic and both actors nail it completely. Wouldn't every woman wish to be loved like that??
This is how Sanditon would have finished, if Jane Austen had finished it!
Lovely! And I’m glad you put Kate Beckinsale‘s Emma - she gave my favorite performance of Emma.
Agreed!
Gwyneth was way too smug.
@@annikabjornson998I do like that version though,
I loved Jeremy Northam as Mr. Knightly
me to thanks
Who ever took time and skill to put these times of happiness together thank you they came to me at the perfect moment
Thank you so much for posting! Each one a gem!
As an introvert i identified with anne a lot, Persuasion really hit my heart and it's one of mt favourite books and austen movies
*NORTHANGER ABBEY*
_Mrs. Morland.. seeing, in her daughter’s absent and dissatisfied look, the full proof of that repining spirit to which she had now begun to attribute her want of cheerfulness, hastily left the room to fetch the book in question, anxious to lose no time in attacking so dreadful a malady. It was some time before she could find what she looked for; and other family matters occurring to detain her, a quarter of an hour had elapsed ere she returned downstairs with the volume from which so much was hoped. Her avocations above having shut out all noise but what she created herself, she knew not that a visitor had arrived within the last few minutes, till, on entering the room, the first object she beheld was a young man whom she had never seen before. With a look of much respect, he immediately rose, and being introduced to her by her conscious daughter as “Mr. Henry Tilney,” with the embarrassment of real sensibility began to apologize for his appearance there, acknowledging that after what had passed he had little right to expect a welcome at Fullerton, and stating his impatience to be assured of Miss Morland’s having reached her home in safety, as the cause of his intrusion. He did not address himself to an uncandid judge or a resentful heart. Far from comprehending him or his sister in their father’s misconduct, Mrs. Morland had been always kindly disposed towards each, and instantly, pleased by his appearance, received him with the simple professions of unaffected benevolence; thanking him for such an attention to her daughter, assuring him that the friends of her children were always welcome there, and entreating him to say not another word of the past._
_He was not ill-inclined to obey this request, for, though his heart was greatly relieved by such unlooked-for mildness, it was not just at that moment in his power to say anything to the purpose. Returning in silence to his seat, therefore, he remained for some minutes most civilly answering all Mrs. Morland’s common remarks about the weather and roads. Catherine meanwhile-the anxious, agitated, happy, feverish Catherine-said not a word; but her glowing cheek and brightened eye made her mother trust that this good-natured visit would at least set her heart at ease for a time.._
_..After a couple of minutes’ unbroken silence, Henry, turning to Catherine for the first time since her mother’s entrance, asked her, with sudden alacrity, if Mr. and Mrs. Allen were now at Fullerton? And on developing, from amidst all her perplexity of words in reply, the meaning, which one short syllable would have given, immediately expressed his intention of paying his respects to them, and, with a rising colour, asked her if she would have the goodness to show him the way. “You may see the house from this window, sir,” was information on Sarah’s side, which produced only a bow of acknowledgment from the gentleman, and a silencing nod from her mother; for Mrs. Morland, thinking it probable, as a secondary consideration in his wish of waiting on their worthy neighbours, that he might have some explanation to give of his father’s behaviour, which it must be more pleasant for him to communicate only to Catherine, would not on any account prevent her accompanying him. They began their walk, and Mrs. Morland was not entirely mistaken in his object in wishing it. Some explanation on his father’s account he had to give; but his first purpose was to explain himself, and before they reached Mr. Allen’s grounds he had done it so well that Catherine did not think it could ever be repeated too often. She was assured of his affection; and that heart in return was solicited, which, perhaps, they pretty equally knew was already entirely his own; for, though Henry was now sincerely attached to her, though he felt and delighted in all the excellencies of her character and truly loved her society, I must confess that his affection originated in nothing better than gratitude, or, in other words, that a persuasion of her partiality for him had been the only cause of giving her a serious thought. It is a new circumstance in romance, I acknowledge, and dreadfully derogatory of an heroine’s dignity; but if it be as new in common life, the credit of a wild imagination will at least be all my own._
_A very short visit to Mrs. Allen, in which Henry talked at random, without sense or connection, and Catherine, wrapt in the contemplation of her own unutterable happiness, scarcely opened her lips, dismissed them to the ecstasies of another tête-à-tête; and before it was suffered to close, she was enabled to judge how far he was sanctioned by parental authority in his present application. On his return from Woodston, two days before, he had been met near the abbey by his impatient father, hastily informed in angry terms of Miss Morland’s departure, and ordered to think of her no more._
_Such was the permission upon which he had now offered her his hand. The affrighted Catherine, amidst all the terrors of expectation, as she listened to this account, could not but rejoice in the kind caution with which Henry had saved her from the necessity of a conscientious rejection, by engaging her faith before he mentioned the subject; and as he proceeded to give the particulars, and explain the motives of his father’s conduct, her feelings soon hardened into even a triumphant delight. The general had had nothing to accuse her of, nothing to lay to her charge, but her being the involuntary, unconscious object of a deception which his pride could not pardon, and which a better pride would have been ashamed to own. She was guilty only of being less rich than he had supposed her to be.._
_John Thorpe had first misled him. The general, perceiving his son one night at the theatre to be paying considerable attention to Miss Morland, had accidentally inquired of Thorpe if he knew more of her than her name. Thorpe, most happy to be on speaking terms with a man of General Tilney’s importance, had been joyfully and proudly communicative; and being at that time not only in daily expectation of Morland’s engaging Isabella, but likewise pretty well resolved upon marrying Catherine himself, his vanity induced him to represent the family as yet more wealthy than his vanity and avarice had made him believe them.._
_Mr. and Mrs. Morland’s surprise on being applied to by Mr. Tilney for their consent to his marrying their daughter was, for a few minutes, considerable, it having never entered their heads to suspect an attachment on either side; but as nothing, after all, could be more natural than Catherine’s being beloved, they soon learnt to consider it with only the happy agitation of gratified pride, and, as far as they alone were concerned, had not a single objection to start.._
_There was but one obstacle, in short, to be mentioned; but till that one was removed, it must be impossible for them to sanction the engagement. Their tempers were mild, but their principles were steady, and while his parent so expressly forbade the connection, they could not allow themselves to encourage it. That the general should come forward to solicit the alliance, or that he should even very heartily approve it, they were not refined enough to make any parading stipulation; but the decent appearance of consent must be yielded, and that once obtained-and their own hearts made them trust that it could not be very long denied-their willing approbation was instantly to follow. His consent was all that they wished for.._
_..Henry returned to what was now his only home, to watch over his young plantations, and extend his improvements for her sake, to whose share in them he looked anxiously forward; and Catherine remained at Fullerton to cry. Whether the torments of absence were softened by a clandestine correspondence, let us not inquire. Mr. and Mrs. Morland never did-they had been too kind to exact any promise; and whenever Catherine received a letter, as, at that time, happened pretty often, they always looked another way._
_..The means by which their early marriage was effected can be the only doubt: what probable circumstance could work upon a temper like the General’s? The circumstance which chiefly availed was the marriage of his daughter with a man of fortune and consequence, which took place in the course of the summer-an accession of dignity that threw him into a fit of good humour, from which he did not recover till after Eleanor had obtained his forgiveness of Henry, and his permission for him “to be a fool if he liked it!”_
_..On the strength of this, the general, soon after Eleanor’s marriage, permitted his son to return to Northanger, and thence made him the bearer of his consent, very courteously worded in a page full of empty professions to Mr. Morland. The event which it authorized soon followed: Henry and Catherine were married, the bells rang, and everybody smiled; and, as this took place within a twelvemonth from the first day of their meeting, it will not appear, after all the dreadful delays occasioned by the General’s cruelty, that they were essentially hurt by it. To begin perfect happiness at the respective ages of twenty-six and eighteen is to do pretty well; and professing myself moreover convinced that the General’s unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience._
*_Northanger Abbey, Chapters 30 & 31_*
There's no other Mr Darcy than Colin Firth
Hes brilliant but so was Matthew McFadyen
@@lizziebkennedy7505 Not really - and the whole film was spoilt by Knightly. Mind you it's hard to do this story justice in a movie length adaptation.
@honeymcdonald9120 I agree. I found Keira Knightley laughed way too much.
@honeymcdonald9120 I love different opinions...because i watched it because of her.....her performance was brilliant. TO EACH HIS OWN❤
@@lizziebkennedy7505 Agreed I enjoyed Matthew's performance also.
Love Henry Tilney and Catherine Moreland. The kiss is sweet and perfect!
PERSUASION - 'You pierce my soul'. 😍😍
Such a feel-good edit, thank you!!
I so loved watching several of these adaptations with my mother. I appreciate the memories, Mummy. Lovely films watched with my favorite person.❤
Thank you for choosing the best of them!
This is such a treat. Thank you.
These are all good but Kieran hinds as Captain Wentworth cannot be beaten.
Enjoyed this post so much! As a very old but romantic soul, Austen is indeed the master of the craft. The collection you’ve put together is pure joy!✊❤️
All these versions are the only adaptations that truly make justice to the books. I only consider them worthy to watch and appreciate a lively experience of Jane histories
+ Emma versions from 1996 and 2009 are the best for me (instead of the version that this video brought)
This adaptation of Mansfield Park was not even remotely like the book. This was more like a Netflix attempt loosely based on the book. The only thing they left out was making Fanny into a PIC. Absolute rubbish.
Thank you for compiling and posting these beautiful moments. It has really made my day. ❤
What a wonderful compilation! Thank you for sharing!
Tears 😢 and smiles 😊 - how is that possible? The genius of Jane Austin !
I have always loved Jane Austen movies. Thanks Mistress of Pemberly. I had to get use to NorthangerAbbey. I love Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Emma. I like Mansfield Park.
Edmund also played in Emma in another version. And he also married Emma in that version too
All my fav Austen adaptations, well done ❤
Well, this was perfect!
i love this version of pride and prejudice and sense and sensibility
Thank you for editing and posting. I was enlightening to re-visit all those happy Jane Austen endings!
What a wonderful compilation of happy endings! Thank you for sharing.
Ohhhh my heart. Thank You so much for posting this ❤❤❤
I could never thank you enough for this ❤️
After all that is going on in the world, I needed this tonight. So lovely!
I like the 2007 Persuasion so much because of the moody sadgirl vibes but this version is just chefs kiss! The look Wentworth gives Anne when he points out the letter 😫😭😍
*SENSE & SENSIBILITY*
_Elinor now found the difference between the expectation of an unpleasant event, however certain the mind may be told to consider it, and certainty itself. She now found, that in spite of herself, she had always admitted a hope, while Edward remained single, that something would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy.. But he was now married.._
_..“When do you write to Colonel Brandon, ma’am?” was an inquiry which sprung from the impatience of her mind to have something going on._
_“I wrote to him, my love, last week, and rather expect to see, than to hear from him again. I earnestly pressed his coming to us, and should not be surprised to see him walk in today or tomorrow, or any day.”_
_This was gaining something, something to look forward to.._
_Scarcely had she so determined it, when the figure of a man on horseback drew her eyes to the window. He stopt at their gate. It was a gentleman, it was Colonel Brandon himself. Now she could hear more; and she trembled in expectation of it. But it was not Colonel Brandon; neither his air, nor his height. Were it possible, she must say it must be Edward. She looked again. He had just dismounted: she could not be mistaken,-it was Edward. She moved away and sat down. “He comes from Mr. Pratt’s purposely to see us. I will be calm; I will be mistress of myself.”_
_..She saw her mother and Marianne change colour; saw them look at herself, and whisper a few sentences to each other. She would have given the world to be able to speak-and to make them understand that she hoped no coolness, no slight, would appear in their behaviour to him;-but she had no utterance, and was obliged to leave all to their own discretion._
_..They all waited in silence for the appearance of their visitor. His footsteps were heard along the gravel path; in a moment he was in the passage, and in another he was before them._
_His countenance, as he entered the room, was not too happy, even for Elinor. His complexion was white with agitation, and he looked as if fearful of his reception, and conscious that he merited no kind one. Mrs. Dashwood, however, conforming, as she trusted, to the wishes of that daughter, by whom she then meant in the warmth of her heart to be guided in every thing, met him with a look of forced complacency, gave him her hand, and wished him joy._
_He coloured, and stammered out an unintelligible reply. Elinor’s lips had moved with her mother’s, and, when the moment of action was over, she wished that she had shaken hands with him too. But it was then too late, and with a countenance meaning to be open, she sat down again and talked of the weather._
_Marianne had retreated as much as possible out of sight, to conceal her distress; and Margaret, understanding some part, but not the whole of the case, thought it incumbent on her to be dignified, and therefore took a seat as far from him as she could, and maintained a strict silence._
_When Elinor had ceased to rejoice in the dryness of the season, a very awful pause took place. It was put an end to by Mrs. Dashwood, who felt obliged to hope that he had left Mrs. Ferrars very well. In a hurried manner, he replied in the affirmative._
_Another pause._
_Elinor resolving to exert herself, though fearing the sound of her own voice, now said,_
_“Is Mrs. Ferrars at Longstaple?”_
_“At Longstaple!” he replied, with an air of surprise. “No, my mother is in town.”_
_“I meant,” said Elinor, taking up some work from the table, “to enquire for Mrs. Edward Ferrars.”_
_She dared not look up;-but her mother and Marianne both turned their eyes on him. He coloured, seemed perplexed, looked doubtingly, and, after some hesitation, said,-_
_“Perhaps you mean-my brother-you mean Mrs.-Mrs. Robert Ferrars.”_
_“Mrs. Robert Ferrars!” was repeated by Marianne and her mother in an accent of the utmost amazement; and though Elinor could not speak, even her eyes were fixed on him with the same impatient wonder. He rose from his seat, and walked to the window, apparently from not knowing what to do; took up a pair of scissors that lay there, and while spoiling both them and their sheath by cutting the latter to pieces as he spoke, said, in a hurried voice,-_
_“Perhaps you do not know: you may not have heard that my brother is lately married to-to the youngest-to Miss Lucy Steele.”_
_His words were echoed with unspeakable astonishment by all but Elinor, who sat with her head leaning over her work, in a state of such agitation as made her hardly know where she was._
_“Yes,” said he, “they were married last week, and are now at Dawlish.”_
_Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw-or even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, quitted the room, and walked out towards the village-leaving the others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his situation, so wonderful and so sudden.._
_Unaccountable, however, as the circumstances of his release might appear to the whole family, it was certain that Edward was free; and to what purpose that freedom would be employed was easily pre-determined by all;-for after experiencing the blessings of one imprudent engagement, contracted without his mother’s consent, as he had already done for more than four years, nothing less could be expected of him in the failure of that, than the immediate contraction of another._
_His errand at Barton, in fact, was a simple one. It was only to ask Elinor to marry him;-and considering that he was not altogether inexperienced in such a question, it might be strange that he should feel so uncomfortable in the present case as he really did, so much in need of encouragement and fresh air._
_How soon he had walked himself into the proper resolution, however, how soon an opportunity of exercising it occurred, in what manner he expressed himself, and how he was received, need not be particularly told.._
_His heart was now open to Elinor, all its weaknesses, all its errors confessed, and his first boyish attachment to Lucy treated with all the philosophic dignity of twenty-four._
_“It was a foolish, idle inclination on my side,” said he, “the consequence of ignorance of the world, and want of employment. Had my mother given me some active profession when I was removed at eighteen from the care of Mr. Pratt, I think, nay, I am sure, it would never have happened; for though I left Longstaple with what I thought, at the time, a most unconquerable preference for his niece, yet had I then had any pursuit, any object to engage my time and keep me at a distance from her for a few months, I should very soon have outgrown the fancied attachment, especially by mixing more with the world, as in such case I must have done. But instead of having any thing to do, instead of having any profession chosen for me, or being allowed to chuse any myself, I returned home to be completely idle; and for the first twelvemonth afterwards I had not even the nominal employment, which belonging to the university would have given me; for I was not entered at Oxford till I was nineteen. I had therefore nothing in the world to do, but to fancy myself in love; and as my mother did not make my home in every respect comfortable, as I had no friend, no companion in my brother, and disliked new acquaintance, it was not unnatural for me to be very often at Longstaple, where I always felt myself at home, and was always sure of a welcome; and accordingly I spent the greatest part of my time there from eighteen to nineteen: Lucy appeared everything that was amiable and obliging. She was pretty too-at least I thought so then; and I had seen so little of other women, that I could make no comparisons, and see no defects. Considering everything, therefore, I hope, foolish as our engagement was, foolish as it has since in every way been proved, it was not at the time an unnatural or an inexcusable piece of folly.”_
_The change which a few hours had wrought in the minds and the happiness of the Dashwoods, was such-so great-as promised them all, the satisfaction of a sleepless night. Mrs. Dashwood, too happy to be comfortable, knew not how to love Edward, nor praise Elinor enough, how to be enough thankful for his release without wounding his delicacy, nor how at once to give them leisure for unrestrained conversation together, and yet enjoy, as she wished, the sight and society of both._
_Marianne could speak her happiness only by tears. Comparisons would occur-regrets would arise; and her joy, though sincere as her love for her sister, was of a kind to give her neither spirits nor language._
_But Elinor-how are her feelings to be described? From the moment of learning that Lucy was married to another, that Edward was free, to the moment of his justifying the hopes which had so instantly followed, she was every thing by turns but tranquil. But when the second moment had passed, when she found every doubt, every solicitude removed, compared her situation with what so lately it had been,-saw him honourably released from his former engagement,-saw him instantly profiting by the release, to address herself and declare an affection as tender, as constant as she had ever supposed it to be,-she was oppressed, she was overcome by her own felicity; and happily disposed as is the human mind to be easily familiarized with any change for the better, it required several hours to give sedateness to her spirits, or any degree of tranquillity to her heart._
*_Sense & Sensibility, Chapters 48 & 49_*
Thanks i have the book my self but i haven’t read it all complete lol i will i’ll promise
Thank you so very much for these compilation. To see this is heart warming.
Love JJ Feild's Mr. Tilney. So sweet and kind.
And he knows all about lace, as well 😂
Wonderful to have them all together - Thank you
Persuasión es maravillosa. Como trasmiten sus sentimientos. Es la mejor version
I love 1995 version of Persuation ❤
That scene in Sense and Sensibility always brings tears to my eyes! It's so hard to choose a favorite of the Jane Austen film adaptations. I do know my favorite one of Emma is the one starring Gwyneth Paltrow.
Pride and prejudice is the best - outstanding. There's no one like Darcy.
Sono tutti bellissimi i romanzi di Jane Austen !! Meravigliosi!! Grazie!!👏🏻👏🏻❤️🇮🇹❤️
Thank you for creating and posting this. I just got my Austen fix in only 33 minutes!
The 2005 P&P had the great scene of Bingley intending to propose to Jane but meeting a wall of Bennett women and losing his nerve forcing a tactical retreat and reevaluation. But the second try worked. 😊