Mansfield Park: Quotes & Quips Chapters 17-24

Chapter 17

Her (Fanny) heart and her judgment were equally against Edmund’s decision: she could not acquit his unsteadiness, and his happiness under it made her wretched. The Narrator, Chapter 17

“You had better tell Miss Bertram to think of Mr. Rushworth. It may do her some good. I often think of Mr. Rushworth’s property and independence, and wish them in other hands; but I never think of him.” Mary Crawford, Chapter 17

Maria felt her triumph, and pursued her purpose, careless of Julia; and Julia could never see Maria distinguished by Henry Crawford without trusting that it would create jealousy, and bring a public disturbance at last. The Narrator, Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Mr. Crawford was considerably the best actor of all: he had more confidence than Edmund, more judgment than Tom, more talent and taste than Mr. Yates. She did not like him as a man, but she must admit him to be the best actor, and on this point there were not many who differed from her. The Narrator, Chapter 18

“Come, Fanny,” she cried, “these are fine times for you, but you must not be always walking from one room to the other, and doing the lookings-on at your ease, in this way; I want you here. I have been slaving myself till I can hardly stand, …if nobody did more than you, we should not get on very fast” Mrs. Norris, Chapter 18

Chapter 19

She had found a seat, where in excessive trembling she was enduring all these fearful thoughts, while the other three, no longer under any restraint, were giving vent to their feelings of vexation, lamenting over such an unlooked-for premature arrival as a most untoward event, and without mercy wishing poor Sir Thomas had been twice as long on his passage, or were still in Antigua. The Narrator, Chapter 19

By not one of the circle was he listened to with such unbroken, unalloyed enjoyment as by his wife, who was really extremely happy to see him, and whose feelings were so warmed by his sudden arrival as to place her nearer agitation than she had been for the last twenty years. She had been almost fluttered for a few minutes, and still remained so sensibly animated as to put away her work, move Pug from her side, and give all her attention and all the rest of her sofa to her husband. The Narrator, Chapter 19

Such a look of reproach at Edmund from his father she could never have expected to witness; and to feel that it was in any degree deserved was an aggravation indeed. Sir Thomas’s look implied, “On your judgment, Edmund, I depended; what have you been about?” She knelt in spirit to her uncle, and her bosom swelled to utter, “Oh, not to him! Look so to all the others, but not to him!” The Narrator Chapter 19

“If I must say what I think,” continued Mr. Rushworth, “in my opinion it is very disagreeable to be always rehearsing. It is having too much of a good thing. I am not so fond of acting as I was at first. I think we are a great deal better employed, sitting comfortably here among ourselves, and doing nothing.” Mr. Rushworth, Chapter 19

Chapter 20

“We have all been more or less to blame,” said he, “every one of us, excepting Fanny. Fanny is the only one who has judged rightly throughout; who has been consistent. Her feelings have been steadily against it from first to last. She never ceased to think of what was due to you (Sir Thomas). You will find Fanny everything you could wish.” Edmund Bertram, Chapter 20

Mrs. Norris was a little confounded and as nearly being silenced as ever she had been in her life; for she was ashamed to confess having never seen any of the impropriety which was so glaring to Sir Thomas, and would not have admitted that her influence was insufficient- that she might have talked in vain. Her only resource was to get out of the subject as fast as possible, and turn the current of Sir Thomas’s ideas into a happier channel. The Narrator, Chapter 20

He (Mr. Yates) had known many disagreeable fathers before, and often been struck with the inconveniences they occasioned, but never, in the whole course of his life, had he seen one of that class so unintelligibly moral, so infamously tyrannical as Sir Thomas. He was not a man to be endured but for his children’s sake, The Narrator, Chapter 20

Mr. Rushworth had set off early with the great news for Sotherton; and she had fondly hoped for such an immediate eclaircissement as might save him the trouble of ever coming back again. The Narrator, Chapter 20

Henry Crawford was gone, gone from the house, and within two hours afterwards from the parish; and so ended all the hopes his selfish vanity had raised in Maria and Julia Bertram. The Narrator, Chapter 20

Chapter 21

“If you cannot bear an uncle’s admiration, what is to become of you? You must really begin to harden yourself to the idea of being worth looking at. You must try not to mind growing up into a pretty woman.” Edmund Bertram, Chapter 21

“Miss Crawford was very right in what she said of you the other day: that you seemed almost as fearful of notice and praise as other women were of neglect. We were talking of you at the Parsonage, and those were her words. She has great discernment. I know nobody who distinguishes characters better. For so young a woman it is remarkable!” Edmund Bertram, Chapter 21

In this quarter, indeed, disappointment was impending over Sir Thomas. Not all his good-will for Mr. Rushworth, not all Mr. Rushworth’s deference for him, could prevent him from soon discerning some part of the truth- that Mr. Rushworth was an inferior young man, as ignorant in business as in books, with opinions in general unfixed, and without seeming much aware of it himself. The Narrator, Chapter 21

she was safe from the possibility of giving Crawford the triumph of governing her actions, and destroying her prospects; and retired in proud resolve, determined only to behave more cautiously to Mr. Rushworth in future, that her father might not be again suspecting her. The Narrator, Chapter 21

She must escape from him and Mansfield as soon as possible, and find consolation in fortune and consequence, bustle and the world, for a wounded spirit. Her mind was quite determined, and varied not. The Narrator, Chapter 21

It was a very proper wedding. The bride was elegantly dressed; the two bridesmaids were duly inferior; her father gave her away; her mother stood with salts in her hand, expecting to be agitated; her aunt tried to cry; and the service was impressively read by Dr. Grant. The Narrator, Chapter 21

Chapter 22

“South or north, I know a black cloud when I see it; and you must not set forward while it is so threatening.” Mary Crawford, Chapter 22

Such was the origin of the sort of intimacy which took place between them within the first fortnight after the Miss Bertrams’ going away-an intimacy resulting principally from Miss Crawford’s desire of something new, and which had little reality in Fanny’s feelings. The Narrator, Chapter 22

“How wonderful, how very wonderful the operations of time, and the changes of the human mind!…If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way; but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out.” Fanny Price, Chapter 22

You will think me rhapsodising; but when I am out of doors, especially when I am sitting out of doors, I am very apt to get into this sort of wondering strain. One cannot fix one’s eyes on the commonest natural production without finding food for a rambling fancy.” Fanny Price, Chapter 22

“I am something like the famous Doge at the court of Lewis XIV.; and may declare that I see no wonder in this shrubbery equal to seeing myself in it. Mary Crawford, Chapte 22

“Oh! you can do nothing but what you do already: be plagued very often, and never lose your temper.” Mary Crawford, Chapter 22

“A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of.” Mary Crawford, Chapter 22

“Be honest and poor, by all means-but I shall not envy you; I do not much think I shall even respect you. I have a much greater respect for those that are honest and rich.” Mary Crawford, Chapter 22

Chapter 23

She (Fanny) had neither sympathy nor assistance from those who ought to have entered into her feelings and directed her taste; for Lady Bertram never thought of being useful to anybody, and Mrs. Norris, when she came on the morrow, in consequence of an early call and invitation from Sir Thomas, was in a very ill humour, and seemed intent only on lessening her niece’s pleasure, both present and future, as much as possible. The Narrator, Chapter 23

“People are never respected when they step out of their proper sphere. Remember that, Fanny.” Mrs. Norris, Chapter 23

“A woman can never be too fine while she is all in white. No, I see no finery about you; nothing but what is perfectly proper.” Edmund Bertram, Chapter 23

“Poor Rushworth and his two-and-forty speeches!” continued Crawford. “Nobody can ever forget them. Poor fellow! I see him now-his toil and his despair. Well, I am much mistaken if his lovely Maria will ever want him to make two-and-forty speeches to her”; adding, with a momentary seriousness, “She is too good for him- much too good.” Henry Crawford, Chapter 23

“I shall always look back on our theatricals with exquisite pleasure. There was such an interest, such an animation, such a spirit diffused. Everybody felt it. We were all alive. There was employment, hope, solicitude, bustle, for every hour of the day. Always some little objection, some little doubt, some little anxiety to be got over. I never was happier.”

With silent indignation Fanny repeated to herself, “Never happier!-never happier than when doing what you must know was not justifiable!-never happier than when behaving so dishonourably and unfeelingly! Oh! what a corrupted mind!” Henry Crawford & Fanny Price, Chapter 23

“Nothing amuses me more than the easy manner with which everybody settles the abundance of those who have a great deal less than themselves.” Mary Crwaford, Chapter 23

Chapter 24

I must take care of my mind. Besides, that would be all recreation and indulgence, without the wholesome alloy of labour, and I do not like to eat the bread of idleness. No, my plan is to make Fanny Price in love with me.” Henry Crawford, Chapter 24

“But I cannot be satisfied without Fanny Price, without making a small hole in Fanny Price’s heart.” Henry Crawford, Chapter 24

“Foolish fellow! And so this is her attraction after all! This it is, her not caring about you, which gives her such a soft skin, and makes her so much taller, and produces all these charms and graces! I do desire that you will not be making her really unhappy; a little love, perhaps, may animate and do her good, but I will not have you plunge her deep, for she is as good a little creature as ever lived, and has a great deal of feeling.” Mary Crawford, Chapter 24

And without attempting any farther remonstrance, she (Mary) left Fanny to her fate, a fate which, had not Fanny’s heart been guarded in a way unsuspected by Miss Crawford, might have been a little harder than she deserved; The Narrator, Chapter 24

she could see in him the same William as before, and talk to him, as her heart had been yearning to do through many a past year. The Narrator, Chapter 24

She had feeling, genuine feeling. It would be something to be loved by such a girl, to excite the first ardours of her young unsophisticated mind! She interested him more than he had foreseen. A fortnight was not enough. His stay became indefinite. The Narrator, Chapter 24

The glory of heroism, of usefulness, of exertion, of endurance, made his own habits of selfish indulgence appear in shameful contrast; and he wished he had been a William Price, distinguishing himself and working his way to fortune and consequence with so much self-respect and happy ardour, instead of what he was! The Narrator, Chapter 24

© 2008 Laurel Ann Nattress, Austenprose