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

I don't understand.

I love you. Most ardently. Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.

Sir, I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done.

Is this your reply?

Yes, sir.

Are you... are you laughing at me?

No.

Are you *rejecting* me?

I'm sure that the feelings which, as you've told me have hindered your regard, will help you in overcoming it.

Might I ask why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus repulsed?

And I might as well enquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your better judgment.

No, believe me, I didn't mean--

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

What reasons?

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

I do not deny it.

How could you do it?

Because I believed your sister to be indifferent to him.

Indifferent?

I watched them most carefully and realized his attachment was deeper than hers.

That's because she's shy!

Bingley, too, is modest and was persuaded she didn't feel strongly for him--

Because you suggested it!

I did it for his own good!

My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me. [pauses] I suppose you suspect that his fortune had some bearing?

No! I wouldn't do your sister the dishonor, though it was suggested...

What was?

It was made perfectly clear that an advantageous marriage...

Did my sister give that impression?

No! No. No, there was, however, I have to admit, the matter of your family...

Our want of connection? Mr. Bingley didn't seem to vex himself about that--

No, it was more than that.

How, sir?

It was the lack of propriety shown by your mother, your three younger sisters, even on occasion your father. [pauses] Forgive me. You and your sister I must exclude from this.

And what about Mr. Wickham?

Mr.. Wickham?

What excuse can you give for your behavior towards him?

You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns.

He told me of his misfortunes.

Oh, yes, his misfortunes have been very great indeed.

You ruin his chances and yet you treat him with sarcasm.

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

My pride?

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

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

(Pause. He leans in towards her, as if they're about to kiss.)

Forgive me, madam, for taking up so much of your time.