Elizabeth.
I am perfectly convinced, Mr. Darcy, that you have no defect.
Darcy.
I have made no such pretension, Miss Bennet. I have faults enough. My temper I dare not vouch for. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others against myself. My good opinion once lost is lost forever.
Elizabeth.
That is a failing, indeed. Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.
Darcy.
There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil—a natural defect which not even the best education can overcome.
Elizabeth.
And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.