Persuaded

I watched "Persuasion" again over the weekend.

And every time I see the movie, I want to re-read the book.

And every time I read the book, my heart constricts toward the end, as though by some cruel magic, the ending has changed and is no longer happy; the timing will somehow not work, the letter won't be read, or forgiveness and second chances won't be presented at all. Captain Wentworth will be lost to someone else. Anne Elliot's heart will be lost to hopelessness and spinsterhood (or, worse yet, to her conniving cousin).

The letter! The LETTER! Oh ... the letter ...

"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 eventhese 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."

Oh, my ....

What woman wouldn't melt under the weight of such words?