Happy Valentine's Day! Hope your day is absolutely lovely!
I just thought I'd share some of my favorite romantic scenes from the 1982 film and passages from some of the TSP books for that bit of Percy/Marguerite fix for Valentine's Day! They are - naturally - my favorite literary couple, and what better time to celebrate that than today?
Picnic with Sir Percy - one of the funniest (and most gorgeous) scenes in the film. Love, love, love. :-)
Did Marguerite Blakeney, "the cleverest woman in Europe," really love a fool? Was it love that she had felt for him a year ago when she married him? Was it love she felt for him now that she realised that he still loved her, but that he would not become her slave, her passionate, ardent lover once again? Nay! Marguerite herself could not have told that. Not at this moment at any rate; perhaps her pride had sealed her mind against a better understanding of her own heart. But this she did know--that she meant to capture that obstinate heart back again. That she would conquer once more. . .and then, that she would never lose him. . . . She would keep him, keep his love, deserve it, and cherish it; for this much was certain, that there was no longer any happiness possible for her without that one man's love. – The Scarlet Pimpernel
Proposal - after yet another Chauvelin showdown...the proposal, as only Percy could do it. :-)
She had stolen out at dawn to wait for him on the pier; and sure enough, as soon as the May-day sun, which had risen to-day in his glory as if to crown her brief happiness with warmth and radience, had dissipated the morning mist, her yearning eyes had spied the smart white gig which had put off from the Day-Dream leaving the graceful ship to await the turn of the tide before putting into port.
Since then, every moment of the day had been one of rapture. The first sight of her husband in his huge caped coat, which seemed to add further inches to his great height, his call of triumph when he saw her, his arms outstretched, there, far away in the small boat, with a gesture of such infinite longing that for a second or two tears obscured Marguerite's vision. Then the drawing up of the boat against the landing-stage; Percy's spring ashore; his voice, his look; the strength of his arms; the ardour of his embrace. Rapture, in truth, to which the thought of its brief duration alone lent a touch of bitterness.
But of parting again Marguerite would not think - not to-day, while the birds were singing a deafening paean of joy; not while the scent of growing grass, of moits, travailing earth, was in her nostrils; not while the sap was in the trees, and the gummy crimson buds of the chestnuts were bursting into leaf. Not while she wandered up the narrow lane between hedges of black-thorn in bloom, with Percy's arm around her, his loved voice in her ear, his merry laughter echoing through the sweet morning air. – The Triumph of The Scarlet Pimpernel
Thus he saw her as he re-entered the room, and for one second he paused at the door, for the joy of seeing her there seemed greater than he could bear.
Forgotten was the agony of mind which he had endured, the humiliations and the dangers which still threatened: he only remembered that she loved him and that he worshipped her. – The Elusive Pimpernel
Reunion - my favorite scene in the whole entire film. I may or may not rewind this scene seven or eight time every time I watch this. Yep...and an excerpt from the scene in the book...which is my favorite scene in El Dorado. :-)
Marguerite had paused on the threshold.
After the glaring light of the guard-room the cell seemed dark, and at first she could hardly see. The whole length of the long, narrow cubicle lay to her left, with a slight recess at its further end, so that from the threshold of the doorway she could not see into the distant corner. Swift as a lightning flash the remembrance came back to her of proud Marie Antoinette narrowing her life to that dark corner where the insolent eyes of the rabble soldiery could not spy her every movement.
Marguerite stepped further into the room. Gradually by the dim light of an oil lamp placed upon a table in the recess she began to distinguish various objects: one or two chairs, another table, and a small but very comfortable-looking camp bedstead.
Just for a few seconds she only saw these inanimate things, then she became conscious of Percy's presence.
He sat on a chair, with his left arm half-stretched out upon the table, his bead hidden in the bend of the elbow.
Marguerite did not utter a cry; she did not even tremble. Just for one brief instant she closed her eyes, so as to gather up all her courage before she dared to look again. Then with a steady and noiseless step she came quite close to him. She knelt on the flagstones at his feet and raised reverently to her lips the hand that hung nerveless and limp by his side.
He gave a start; a shiver seemed to go right through him; he half raised his head and murmured in a hoarse whisper:
"I tell you that I do not know, and if I did--"
She put her arms round him and pillowed her head upon his breast. He turned his head slowly toward her, and now his eyes--hollowed and rimmed with purple--looked straight into hers.
"My beloved," he said, "I knew that you would come." His arms closed round her. There was nothing of lifelessness or of weariness in the passion of that embrace; and when she looked up again it seemed to her as if that first vision which she had had of him with weary head bent, and wan, haggard face was not reality, only a dream born of her own anxiety for him, for now the hot, ardent blood coursed just as swiftly as ever through his veins, as if life – strong, tenacious, pulsating life – throbbed with unabated vigour in those massive limbs, and behind that square, clear brow as though the body, but half subdued, had transferred its vanishing strength to the kind and noble heart that was beating with the fervour of self-sacrifice. – El Dorado
They seek him there,
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere!
Is he in Heaven?
Or is he in hell?
My own elusive Pimpernel!"
"Sink me...the lady's a poet!"