Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Voi Che Sapete - The Lyrics


This song is more commonly known by the English translation of its title--namely, "Tell Me What Love Is"--but it makes us sound so much more learned to write it in Italian.  Though, of course, we do risk invoking the annoyance of Harriet Smith.  "I hate Italian singing.  There is no understanding a word of it," says she.

Never fear, Harriet, for Lizzy does not sing in Italian in that famous scene at Pemberley.  Instead, she sings the English lyrics to Mozart's famous tune.  (The song comes from the opera The Marriage of Figaro, by the by.)

You who have tasted love's mystic spell 
What is this sorrow naught can dispel? 
What is this sorrow naught can dispel?

Fair dame or maiden, none else may know 
My heart o'erladen, why is this so? 
What is this yearning, these trembling fears 
Rapturous burning, melting in tears? 

While thus I languish, wild beats my heart, 
Yet from my anguish I would not part, 
I seek a treasure Fate still denies, 
Naught else will pleasure, 
Naught else I prize...

I'm ever sighing, I know not why, 
Near unto dying, when none are by, 
My heart is riven night, morn and eve, 
But ah 'tis heaven, thus, thus to grieve! 

You who have tasted love's mystic spell 
What is this sorrow naught can dispel?
What is this sorrow naught can dispel? 

Sunday, September 23, 2012

Screencaps: Episode Four

Screencaps by Miss Marianne.

Click here to go back to episode 3.

Click on images for full size.











Thursday, September 6, 2012

Memorable Quotes from Episode One

Mrs. Bennet: Oh Mr. Bennet, how can you be so tiresome?! You must know that I’m thinking of his marrying one of them!
Elizabeth: For a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
Mrs. Bennet: Yes, he must indeed! And who better than one of our five girls?


Mr. Bennet: Visit him? Oh no, no, I see no occasion for that.
Mrs. Bennet: Oh, Mr. Bennet!
Mr. Bennet: Go yourself with the girls. Or, still better, send them by themselves.
Mrs. Bennet: By themselves?!
Mr. Bennet: Aye, for you’re as handsome as any of them. Mr. Bingley might like you best of the party.


I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I shall write to Mr. Bingley, informing him that I have five daughters, and he’s welcome to any of them that he chooses. They’re all silly and ignorant like other girls. Well, Lizzy has a little more wit than the rest. But then, he may prefer a stupid wife, as others have done before him. There, will that do?
-Mr. Bennet


If I could love a man who would love me enough to take me for a mere 50 pounds a year, I should be very well pleased. But such a man could hardly be sensible, and you know I could never love a man who was out of his wits.
Elizabeth


I am determined that nothing but the very deepest love will induce me into matrimony. So, I shall end an old maid, and teach your ten children to embroider cushions and play their instruments very ill!
Elizabeth (to Jane)


Mrs. Bennet: Bingley’s wealth is nothing to his. Ten thousand a year, at least! –Don’t you think he’s the handsomest man you’ve ever seen, girls?
Elizabeth: I wonder if he would be quite so handsome if he was not quite so rich?


Elizabeth: The very rich can afford to give offense wherever they go. We need not care for their good opinion.
Mrs. Bennet: No, indeed!
Elizabeth: Perhaps he is not so very handsome, after all?
Mrs. Bennet: No, indeed! Quite ill-favoured.


Mr. Bingley: Come, Darcy. I must have you dance. I must. I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner. Come, you had much better dance.
Mr. Darcy: I certainly shall not. At an assembly such as this? It would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged at present, and you know perfectly well it would be a punishment to me to stand up with any other woman in the room.”
Mr. Bingley: Good ____ Darcy, I wouldn’t be as fastidious as you are for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met so many pleasant girls in my life! And several of them uncommonly pretty.
Mr. Darcy: You have been dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.
Mr. Bingley: Darcy, she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. Look, look. There’s one of her sisters. She’s very pretty too. And I daresay, very agreeable.
Mr. Darcy: She is tolerable, I suppose. But she’s not handsome enough to tempt me. Bingley, I’m in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. Go back to your partner, enjoy her smiles. You are wasting your time with me.


Mrs. Bennet: And I daresay, the lace on Mrs. Hurst’s gown—
Mr. Bennet: No lace, no lace, Mrs. Bennet, I beg you!


Mr. Bingley: Darcy, I shall never understand why you go through the world determined to be displeased with everything and everyone in it.”
Mr. Darcy: And I will never understand why you are in such a rage to approve of everything and everyone that you meet.


Jane: He is just what a young man ought to be, Lizzy. Sensible, lively, and I never saw such happy manners!
Elizabeth: Handsome, too—which a young man ought to be if he possibly can. And he seems to like you very much, which shows good judgment. [No], I give you leave to like him. You’ve liked many a stupider person.


Jane: …And even Mr. Darcy, you know, may improve on closer acquaintance.
Elizabeth: Do you mean he’ll be in humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men? Never! (Imitating Darcy) ‘She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me.’
Jane: It was very wrong of him to speak so.
Elizabeth: Ha, indeed it was—a capital offense.


Lydia: A ball? Who’s giving a ball? Oh, I long for a ball, and so does Denny!
Kitty: And so does Sanderson… don’t you, Sanderson?
Sanderson: I d-do indeed. Most passionately. (Sniffles)
Lydia: Oh, little Sanderson, I knew you would.

Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance, you know. There will always be vexation and grief; and it is better to know in advance as little as possible of the defects of your marriage partner, is it not, now?
-Charlotte Lucas


Sir William: What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy. Nothing like dancing, you know. One of the refinements of every polished society.
Mr. Darcy: And every unpolished society.
Sir William: Sir?
Mr. Darcy: Every savage can dance.
Sir William: Oh, yes… yes, quite.


Caroline Bingley: I believe I can guess your thoughts at this moment.
Mr. Darcy: I should imagine not.
Caroline Bingley: You are thinking how insupportable it would be to spend many evenings in such tedious company.
Mr. Darcy: No indeed, my mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.
Caroline Bingley: And may one dare ask whose are the eyes that inspired these reflections?
Mr. Darcy: Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s.
Caroline Bingley: Miss Elizabeth Bennet? I am all astonishment!


Mr. Bennet: Well, my dear, if Jane should die of this fever, it will be comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.
Mrs. Bennet: Oh, nonsense! People do not die of little trifling colds!


Our life holds few distinctions, Mrs. Bennet, but I think we may safely boast that here sit two of the silliest girls in the country.
-Mr. Bennet


Mrs. Hurst: Well, we must allow her to be an excellent walker, I suppose. But her appearance this morning—she really looked almost wild.
Caroline: I could hardly keep my countenance. What does she mean by scampering about the country because her sister has a cold? (laughs) Her hair, Louisa!
Mrs. Hurst: Her petticoat! I hope you saw her petticoat, brother. Six inches deep in mud, I’m absolutely certain.


Caroline: Miss Bennet despises cards. She is a great reader, and has no pleasure in anything else.
Elizabeth: I deserve neither such praise nor such censure—I am not a great reader, and take pleasure in many things.


Mr. Bingley: But all young ladies are accomplished. They sing, they draw, they dance; speak French and German, cover screens, and I know not what.
Mr. Darcy: There are not half a dozen who would satisfy my notion of an accomplished woman.
Caroline: Oh, certainly. No woman can be really esteemed accomplished who does not also possess a certain something in her air, in the manner of walking, in the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.
Mr. Darcy: And to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.
Elizabeth: I am no longer surprised at you knowing only six accomplished women, Mr. Darcy. I rather wonder at your knowing any.


Elizabeth: Mamma, you mistake Mr. Darcy’s meaning.
Mrs. Bennet: Do I? He seems to think the country nothing at all! Confined? Unvarying? I would have him know we dine with four and twenty families!


Caroline: Miss Eliza Bennet. Let me persuade you to follow my example and take a turn about the room, it’s so refreshing. (Elizabeth gets up and takes a few steps around the room with Miss Bingley.) Will you not join us, Mr. Darcy?
Mr. Darcy: That would defeat the object.
Caroline: What do you mean, sir? What on earth can he mean?
Elizabeth: I think we would do better not to inquire.
Caroline: Nay, we insist on knowing your meaning, sir!
Mr. Darcy: Why, that your figures appear to the best advantage when walking, and that I might best admire them from my present position.


Mr. Darcy: I believe every disposition has a tendency to some particular evil.
Elizabeth: Your defect is a propensity to hate everyone.
Mr. Darcy: While yours is willfully to misunderstand them.