Placeholder Image

Subtitles section Play video

  • PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

  • By Jane Austen

  • Chapter 16

  • As no objection was made to the  young people's engagement with their 

  • aunt, and all Mr. Collins's scruples  of leaving Mr. and Mrs. Bennet for 

  • a single evening during his visit  were most steadily resisted, the coach 

  • conveyed him and his five cousins  at a suitable hour to Meryton; and 

  • the girls had the pleasure of hearingas they entered the drawing-room

  • that Mr. Wickham had accepted  their uncle's invitation,  

  • and was then in the house.

  • When this information was given, and  they had all taken their seats, Mr

  • Collins was at leisure to look around  him and admire, and he was so much 

  • struck with the size and furniture  of the apartment, that he declared he 

  • might almost have supposed himself  in the small summer breakfast 

  • parlour at Rosings; a comparison  that did not at first convey much 

  • gratification; but when MrsPhillips understood from him what 

  • Rosings was, and who was its  proprietor--when she had listened to the 

  • description of only one of Lady  Catherine's drawing-rooms, and found 

  • that the chimney-piece alone had cost  eight hundred pounds, she felt all 

  • the force of the compliment, and would  hardly have resented a comparison 

  • with the housekeeper's room.

  • In describing to her all the grandeur  of Lady Catherine and her mansion

  • with occasional digressions in  praise of his own humble abode, and 

  • the improvements it was receivinghe was happily employed until the 

  • gentlemen joined them; and he found  in Mrs. Phillips a very attentive 

  • listener, whose opinion of his  consequence increased with what she 

  • heard, and who was resolving to  retail it all among her neighbours as 

  • soon as she could. To the girls, who  could not listen to their cousin

  • and who had nothing to do but to  wish for an instrument, and examine 

  • their own indifferent imitations  of china on the mantelpiece, the 

  • interval of waiting appeared very  long. It was over at last, however

  • The gentlemen did approach, and when  Mr. Wickham walked into the room

  • Elizabeth felt that she had neither  been seeing him before, nor thinking 

  • of him since, with the smallest  degree of unreasonable admiration

  • The officers of the ----shire  were in general a very creditable

  • gentlemanlike set, and the best of  them were of the present party; but 

  • Mr. Wickham was as far beyond them  all in person, countenance, air, and 

  • walk, as _they_ were superior to the  broad-faced, stuffy uncle Phillips

  • breathing port wine, who  followed them into the room.

  • Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards  whom almost every female eye was 

  • turned, and Elizabeth was the happy  woman by whom he finally seated 

  • himself; and the agreeable manner  in which he immediately fell into 

  • conversation, though it was only on  its being a wet night, made her feel 

  • that the commonest, dullest, most  threadbare topic might be rendered 

  • interesting by the skill of the speaker.

  • With such rivals for the notice  of the fair as Mr. Wickham and the 

  • officers, Mr. Collins seemed to sink  into insignificance; to the young 

  • ladies he certainly was nothingbut he had still at intervals a kind 

  • listener in Mrs. Phillips, and was  by her watchfulness, most abundantly 

  • supplied with coffee and muffinWhen the card-tables were placed, he 

  • had the opportunity of obliging her  in turn, by sitting down to whist.

  • "I know little of the game at  present," said he, "but I shall be glad 

  • to improve myself, for in my situation  in life--" Mrs. Phillips was very 

  • glad for his compliance, but  could not wait for his reason.

  • Mr. Wickham did not play at whistand with ready delight was he 

  • received at the other table between  Elizabeth and Lydia. At first there 

  • seemed danger of Lydia's engrossing  him entirely, for she was a most 

  • determined talker; but being likewise  extremely fond of lottery tickets

  • she soon grew too much interested in  the game, too eager in making bets 

  • and exclaiming after prizes to have  attention for anyone in particular

  • Allowing for the common demands of  the game, Mr. Wickham was therefore 

  • at leisure to talk to Elizabethand she was very willing to hear 

  • him, though what she chiefly wished  to hear she could not hope to be 

  • told--the history of his acquaintance  with Mr. Darcy. She dared not 

  • even mention that gentleman. Her  curiosity, however, was unexpectedly 

  • relieved. Mr. Wickham began the  subject himself. He inquired how far 

  • Netherfield was from Meryton; andafter receiving her answer, asked in 

  • a hesitating manner how long MrDarcy had been staying there.

  • "About a month," said Elizabeth; and  then, unwilling to let the subject 

  • drop, added, "He is a man of very  large property in Derbyshire, I 

  • understand."

  • "Yes," replied Mr. Wickham; "his  estate there is a noble one. A clear 

  • ten thousand per annum. You could  not have met with a person more 

  • capable of giving you certain  information on that head than myself, for 

  • I have been connected with his  family in a particular manner from my 

  • infancy."

  • Elizabeth could not but look surprised.

  • "You may well be surprised, Miss  Bennet, at such an assertion, after 

  • seeing, as you probably might, the  very cold manner of our meeting 

  • yesterday. Are you much  acquainted with Mr. Darcy?"

  • "As much as I ever wish to be,"  cried Elizabeth very warmly. "I have 

  • spent four days in the same house with him,  

  • and I think him very disagreeable."

  • "I have no right to give _my_ opinion,"  said Wickham, "as to his being 

  • agreeable or otherwise. I am not  qualified to form one. I have known him 

  • too long and too well to be a fair  judge. It is impossible for _me

  • to be impartial. But I believe your  opinion of him would in general 

  • astonish--and perhaps you would  not express it quite so strongly 

  • anywhere else. Here you are in your own family."

  • "Upon my word, I say no more _herethan I might say in any house in 

  • the neighbourhood, except  Netherfield. He is not at all liked in 

  • Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted  with his pride. You will not find 

  • him more favourably spoken of by anyone."

  • "I cannot pretend to be sorry,"  said Wickham, after a short 

  • interruption, "that he or that any  man should not be estimated beyond 

  • their deserts; but with _him_ I  believe it does not often happen. The 

  • world is blinded by his fortune and  consequence, or frightened by his 

  • high and imposing manners, and sees  him only as he chooses to be seen."

  • "I should take him, even on _myslight acquaintance, to be an 

  • ill-tempered man." Wickham only shook his head.

  • "I wonder," said he, at the next  opportunity of speaking, "whether he is 

  • likely to be in this country much longer."

  • "I do not at all know; but I _heardnothing of his going away when

  • was at Netherfield. I hope your  plans in favour of the ----shire will 

  • not be affected by his  being in the neighbourhood."

  • "Oh! no--it is not for _me_ to be  driven away by Mr. Darcy. If _he

  • wishes to avoid seeing _me_, he must  go. We are not on friendly terms

  • and it always gives me pain to  meet him, but I have no reason for 

  • avoiding _him_ but what I might  proclaim before all the world, a sense 

  • of very great ill-usage, and most  painful regrets at his being what he 

  • is. His father, Miss Bennet, the late  Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men 

  • that ever breathed, and the truest  friend I ever had; and I can never 

  • be in company with this Mr. Darcy  without being grieved to the soul by 

  • a thousand tender recollectionsHis behaviour to myself has been 

  • scandalous; but I verily believe  I could forgive him anything and 

  • everything, rather than  his disappointing the hopes  

  • and disgracing the memory of his father."

  • Elizabeth found the interest of the  subject increase, and listened with 

  • all her heart; but the delicacy  of it prevented further inquiry.

  • Mr. Wickham began to speak on more general topics,  

  • Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society,  

  • appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the  

  • latter with gentle but very intelligible gallantry.

  • "It was the prospect of constant  society, and good society," he added

  • "which was my chief inducement to  enter the ----shire. I knew it to be 

  • a most respectable, agreeable corpsand my friend Denny tempted me 

  • further by his account of their  present quarters, and the very great 

  • attentions and excellent acquaintances  Meryton had procured them

  • Society, I own, is necessary to me.  I have been a disappointed man, and 

  • my spirits will not bear solitude. I  _must_ have employment and society

  • A military life is not what I was  intended for, but circumstances have 

  • now made it eligible. The church  _ought_ to have been my profession--I 

  • was brought up for the church, and  I should at this time have been in 

  • possession of a most valuable living,  

  • had it pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now."

  • "Indeed!"

  • "Yes--the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed  me the next presentation of the best 

  • living in his gift. He was my godfatherand excessively attached to me

  • I cannot do justice to his kindnessHe meant to provide for me amply

  • and thought he had done itbut when the living fell,  

  • it was given elsewhere."

  • "Good heavens!" cried Elizabeth; "but  how could _that_ be? How could his 

  • will be disregarded? Why did  you not seek legal redress?"

  • "There was just such an informality  in the terms of the bequest as to 

  • give me no hope from law.  

  • A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it--or  

  • to treat it as a merely conditional recommendation,  

  • and to assert that I had forfeited all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence--in  

  • short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant  

  • two years ago, exactly as I was of an age to hold it, and that it  

  • was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot  

  • accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it.  

  • I have a warm, unguarded temper, and I may have spoken my opinion _of_ him,  

  • and _to_ him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is,  

  • that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me."

  • "This is quite shocking! He  deserves to be publicly disgraced."

  • "Some time or other he _will_ be--but  it shall not be by _me_. Till

  • can forget his father, I can  never defy or expose _him_."

  • Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings,  

  • and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them.

  • "But what," said she, after a pause,  "can have been his motive? What can 

  • have induced him to behave so cruelly?"

  • "A thorough, determined dislike of  me--a dislike which I cannot but 

  • attribute in some measure to jealousy.  

  • Had the late Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have borne with me better;  

  • but his father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him,  

  • I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of  

  • competition in which we stood--the sort of preference which was often given me."

  • "I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad  as this--though I have never liked 

  • him. I had not thought so very ill  of him. I had supposed him to be 

  • despising his fellow-creatures in general,  

  • but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge,  

  • such injustice, such inhumanity as this."

  • After a few minutes' reflectionhowever, she continued, "I _do

  • remember his boasting one day, at  Netherfield, of the implacability of 

  • his resentments, of his having an  unforgiving temper. His disposition 

  • must be dreadful."

  • "I will not trust myself on  the subject," replied Wickham;  

  • "I can hardly be just to him."

  • Elizabeth was again deep in thoughtand after a time exclaimed, "To 

  • treat in such a manner the godsonthe friend, the favourite of his 

  • father!" She could have added, "A  young man, too, like _you_, whose very 

  • countenance may vouch for your being  amiable"--but she contented herself 

  • with, "and one, too, who had probably  been his companion from childhood

  • connected together, as I think  you said, in the closest manner!"

  • "We were born in the same parishwithin the same park; the greatest 

  • part of our youth was passed  together; inmates of the same house

  • sharing the same amusements, objects  of the same parental care. _My

  • father began life in the profession  which your uncle, Mr. Phillips

  • appears to do so much credit to--but  he gave up everything to be of 

  • use to the late Mr. Darcy and devoted  all his time to the care of the 

  • Pemberley property. He was most  highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most 

  • intimate, confidential friend. MrDarcy often acknowledged himself to 

  • be under the greatest obligations to  my father's active superintendence

  • and when, immediately before my  father's death, Mr. Darcy gave him

  • voluntary promise of providing for  me, I am convinced that he felt it to 

  • be as much a debt of gratitude to  _him_, as of his affection to myself."

  • "How strange!" cried Elizabeth. "How  abominable! I wonder that the very 

  • pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made  him just to you! If from no better 

  • motive, that he should not have  been too proud to be dishonest--for 

  • dishonesty I must call it."

  • "It _is_ wonderful," replied Wickham,  "for almost all his actions may 

  • be traced to pride; and pride had  often been his best friend. It has 

  • connected him nearer with virtue than  with any other feeling. But we are 

  • none of us consistent, and in his  behaviour to me there were stronger 

  • impulses even than pride."

  • "Can such abominable pride as  his have ever done him good?"

  • "Yes. It has often led him to be  liberal and generous, to give his money 

  • freely, to display hospitality, to  assist his tenants, and relieve the 

  • poor. Family pride, and _filialpride--for he is very proud of what 

  • his father was--have done this.  

  • Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or  

  • lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful  

  • motive. He has also _brotherly_ pride, which, with _some_ brotherly affection,  

  • makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister,  

  • and you will hear him generally cried up as the most attentive and best of brothers."

  • "What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?"

  • He shook his head. "I wish I could  call her amiable. It gives me pain to 

  • speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too  much like her brother--very, very 

  • proud. As a child, she was affectionate  and pleasing, and extremely fond 

  • of me; and I have devoted hours and  hours to her amusement. But she is 

  • nothing to me now. She is a handsome  girl, about fifteen or sixteen

  • and, I understand, highly accomplishedSince her father's death, her 

  • home has been London, where a lady lives with her,  

  • and superintends her education."

  • After many pauses and many trials of  other subjects, Elizabeth could not 

  • help reverting once more to the first, and saying:

  • "I am astonished at his intimacy with  Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley

  • who seems good humour itself, and  is, I really believe, truly amiable

  • be in friendship with such a manHow can they suit each other? Do you 

  • know Mr. Bingley?"

  • "Not at all."

  • "He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man.  

  • He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is."

  • "Probably not; but Mr. Darcy can  please where he chooses. He does not 

  • want abilities. He can be a conversible  companion if he thinks it worth 

  • his while. Among those who are at  all his equals in consequence, he is 

  • a very different man from what  he is to the less prosperous. His 

  • pride never deserts him; but with  the rich he is liberal-minded, just

  • sincere, rational, honourableand perhaps agreeable--allowing  

  • something for fortune and figure."

  • The whist party soon afterwards  breaking up, the players gathered round 

  • the other table and Mr. Collins  took his station between his cousin 

  • Elizabeth and Mrs. Phillips. The  usual inquiries as to his success was 

  • made by the latter. It had not  been very great; he had lost every 

  • point; but when Mrs. Phillips began  to express her concern thereupon

  • he assured her with much earnest  gravity that it was not of the least 

  • importance, that he considered the  money as a mere trifle, and begged 

  • that she would not make herself uneasy.

  • "I know very well, madam," said he,  "that when persons sit down to

  • card-table, they must take their  chances of these things, and happily

  • am not in such circumstances as to  make five shillings any object. There 

  • are undoubtedly many who could not  say the same, but thanks to Lady 

  • Catherine de Bourgh, I am removed  far beyond the necessity of regarding 

  • little matters."

  • Mr. Wickham's attention was caughtand after observing Mr. Collins for 

  • a few moments, he asked Elizabeth  in a low voice whether her relation 

  • was very intimately acquainted  with the family of de Bourgh.

  • "Lady Catherine de Bourgh," she  replied, "has very lately given him 

  • a living. I hardly know how MrCollins was first introduced to her 

  • notice, but he certainly has not known her long."

  • "You know of course that Lady  Catherine de Bourgh and Lady Anne Darcy 

  • were sisters; consequently that she  is aunt to the present Mr. Darcy."

  • "No, indeed, I did not. I knew  nothing at all of Lady Catherine's 

  • connections. I never heard of  her existence till the day before 

  • yesterday."

  • "Her daughter, Miss de Bourgh, will  have a very large fortune, and it is 

  • believed that she and her cousin  will unite the two estates."

  • This information made Elizabeth  smile, as she thought of poor Miss 

  • Bingley. Vain indeed must be all  her attentions, vain and useless her 

  • affection for his sister  and her praise of himself,  

  • if he were already self-destined for another.

  • "Mr. Collins," said she, "speaks  highly both of Lady Catherine and her 

  • daughter; but from some particulars  that he has related of her ladyship

  • I suspect his gratitude misleads himand that in spite of her being his 

  • patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman."

  • "I believe her to be both in a great  degree," replied Wickham; "I have 

  • not seen her for many years, butvery well remember that I never liked 

  • her, and that her manners were  dictatorial and insolent. She has the 

  • reputation of being remarkably sensible  and clever; but I rather believe 

  • she derives part of her abilities  from her rank and fortune, part from 

  • her authoritative manner, and  the rest from the pride for her 

  • nephew, who chooses that everyone  connected with him should have an 

  • understanding of the first class."

  • Elizabeth allowed that he had given  a very rational account of it, and 

  • they continued talking togetherwith mutual satisfaction till supper 

  • put an end to cards, and gave the  rest of the ladies their share of Mr

  • Wickham's attentions. There could  be no conversation in the noise 

  • of Mrs. Phillips's supper partybut his manners recommended him to 

  • everybody. Whatever he said, was  said well; and whatever he did, done 

  • gracefully. Elizabeth went away  with her head full of him. She could 

  • think of nothing but of Mr. Wickhamand of what he had told her, all 

  • the way home; but there was not time  for her even to mention his name 

  • as they went, for neither Lydia nor  Mr. Collins were once silent. Lydia 

  • talked incessantly of lottery ticketsof the fish she had lost and the 

  • fish she had won; and Mr. Collins in  describing the civility of Mr. and 

  • Mrs. Phillips, protesting that he did  not in the least regard his losses 

  • at whist, enumerating all the dishes at supper,  

  • and repeatedly fearing that he crowded his cousins,  

  • had more to say than he could well manage before the carriage stopped at Longbourn House.

  • Chapter 17

  • Elizabeth related to Jane the next  day what had passed between Mr

  • Wickham and herself. Jane listened  with astonishment and concern; she 

  • knew not how to believe that MrDarcy could be so unworthy of Mr

  • Bingley's regard; and yet, it was  not in her nature to question the 

  • veracity of a young man of such  amiable appearance as Wickham. The 

  • possibility of his having endured  such unkindness, was enough to 

  • interest all her tender feelingsand nothing remained therefore to be 

  • done, but to think well of them  both, to defend the conduct of each

  • and throw into the account of accident or mistake  

  • whatever could not be otherwise explained.

  • "They have both," said she, "been  deceived, I dare say, in some way 

  • or other, of which we can form no idea.  

  • Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other.  

  • It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances  

  • which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side."

  • "Very true, indeed; and now, my dear  Jane, what have you got to say on 

  • behalf of the interested people who  have probably been concerned in the 

  • business? Do clear _them_ too, or  we shall be obliged to think ill of 

  • somebody."

  • "Laugh as much as you choose, but  you will not laugh me out of my 

  • opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but  consider in what a disgraceful light 

  • it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating  his father's favourite in such 

  • a manner, one whom his father had  promised to provide for. It is 

  • impossible. No man of common humanity,  

  • no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it.  

  • Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! no."

  • "I can much more easily believe MrBingley's being imposed on, than 

  • that Mr. Wickham should invent such  a history of himself as he gave me 

  • last night; names, facts, everything  mentioned without ceremony. If it 

  • be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it.  

  • Besides, there was truth in his looks."

  • "It is difficult indeed--it is  distressing. One does not know  

  • what to think."

  • "I beg your pardon; one  knows exactly what to think."

  • But Jane could think with certainty  on only one point--that Mr. Bingley

  • if he _had_ been imposed on, would  have much to suffer when the affair 

  • became public.

  • The two young ladies were summoned  from the shrubbery, where this 

  • conversation passed, by the arrival  of the very persons of whom they had 

  • been speaking; Mr. Bingley and his  sisters came to give their personal 

  • invitation for the long-expected  ball at Netherfield, which was fixed 

  • for the following Tuesday. The two  ladies were delighted to see their 

  • dear friend again, called it an age  since they had met, and repeatedly 

  • asked what she had been doing with  herself since their separation. To 

  • the rest of the family they paid  little attention; avoiding Mrs. Bennet 

  • as much as possible, saying not much  to Elizabeth, and nothing at all to 

  • the others. They were soon gone  again, rising from their seats with an 

  • activity which took their brother  by surprise, and hurrying off as if 

  • eager to escape from Mrs. Bennet's civilities.

  • The prospect of the Netherfield ball  was extremely agreeable to every 

  • female of the family. Mrs. Bennet  chose to consider it as given in 

  • compliment to her eldest daughterand was particularly flattered 

  • by receiving the invitation from  Mr. Bingley himself, instead of

  • ceremonious card. Jane pictured  to herself a happy evening in the 

  • society of her two friends, and  the attentions of her brother; and 

  • Elizabeth thought with pleasure  of dancing a great deal with Mr

  • Wickham, and of seeing a confirmation  of everything in Mr. Darcy's look 

  • and behaviour. The happiness anticipated  by Catherine and Lydia depended 

  • less on any single event, or any  particular person, for though they 

  • each, like Elizabeth, meant to dance  half the evening with Mr. Wickham

  • he was by no means the only partner  who could satisfy them, and a ball 

  • was, at any rate, a ball. And even  Mary could assure her family that she 

  • had no disinclination for it.

  • "While I can have my mornings to  myself," said she, "it is enough--I 

  • think it is no sacrifice to join  occasionally in evening engagements

  • Society has claims on us alland I profess myself one of those 

  • who consider intervals of recreation  and amusement as desirable for 

  • everybody."

  • Elizabeth's spirits were so high on  this occasion, that though she did 

  • not often speak unnecessarily to MrCollins, she could not help asking 

  • him whether he intended to accept  Mr. Bingley's invitation, and if 

  • he did, whether he would think it  proper to join in the evening's 

  • amusement; and she was rather surprised  to find that he entertained no 

  • scruple whatever on that head, and  was very far from dreading a rebuke 

  • either from the Archbishopor Lady Catherine de Bourgh,  

  • by venturing to dance.

  • "I am by no means of the opinion, I  assure you," said he, "that a ball 

  • of this kind, given by a young man  of character, to respectable people

  • can have any evil tendency; andam so far from objecting to dancing 

  • myself, that I shall hope to be  honoured with the hands of all my fair 

  • cousins in the course of the evening;  

  • and I take this opportunity of soliciting yours, Miss Elizabeth,  

  • for the two first dances especially, a preference which I trust my  

  • cousin Jane will attribute to the right cause, and not to any disrespect for her."

  • Elizabeth felt herself completely  taken in. She had fully proposed being 

  • engaged by Mr. Wickham for those  very dances; and to have Mr. Collins 

  • instead! her liveliness had never  been worse timed. There was no help 

  • for it, however. Mr. Wickham's  happiness and her own were perforce 

  • delayed a little longer, and MrCollins's proposal accepted with as 

  • good a grace as she could. She was  not the better pleased with his 

  • gallantry from the idea it suggested  of something more. It now first 

  • struck her, that _she_ was selected  from among her sisters as worthy 

  • of being mistress of Hunsford Parsonage,  

  • and of assisting to form a quadrille table at Rosings,  

  • in the absence of more eligible visitors. The idea soon reached to conviction,  

  • as she observed his increasing civilities toward herself,  

  • and heard his frequent attempt at a compliment on her wit and vivacity;  

  • and though more astonished than gratified herself by this effect  

  • of her charms, it was not long before her mother gave her to understand that  

  • the probability of their marriage was extremely agreeable to _her_.  

  • Elizabeth, however, did not choose to take the hint, being well aware  

  • that a serious dispute must be the consequence of any reply.  

  • Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.

  • If there had not been a Netherfield  ball to prepare for and talk of, the 

  • younger Miss Bennets would have been  in a very pitiable state at this 

  • time, for from the day of the  invitation, to the day of the ball, there 

  • was such a succession of rain as  prevented their walking to Meryton 

  • once. No aunt, no officers, no news  could be sought after--the very 

  • shoe-roses for Netherfield were got  by proxy. Even Elizabeth might have 

  • found some trial of her patience in  weather which totally suspended the 

  • improvement of her acquaintance with  Mr. Wickham; and nothing less than 

  • a dance on Tuesday, could have made  such a Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and 

  • Monday endurable to Kitty and Lydia.

  • Chapter 18

  • Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room  at Netherfield, and looked in 

  • vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster  of red coats there assembled, a 

  • doubt of his being present had  never occurred to her. The certainty 

  • of meeting him had not been checked  by any of those recollections that 

  • might not unreasonably have alarmed  her. She had dressed with more than 

  • usual care, and prepared in the  highest spirits for the conquest of all 

  • that remained unsubdued of his hearttrusting that it was not more than 

  • might be won in the course of the  evening. But in an instant arose 

  • the dreadful suspicion of his being  purposely omitted for Mr. Darcy's 

  • pleasure in the Bingleys' invitation  to the officers; and though 

  • this was not exactly the case, the  absolute fact of his absence was 

  • pronounced by his friend Denny, to  whom Lydia eagerly applied, and who 

  • told them that Wickham had been  obliged to go to town on business the 

  • day before, and was not yet returnedadding, with a significant smile

  • "I do not imagine his business would  have called him away just now, if 

  • he had not wanted to avoid  a certain gentleman here."

  • This part of his intelligence, though  unheard by Lydia, was caught by 

  • Elizabeth, and, as it assured her  that Darcy was not less answerable for 

  • Wickham's absence than if her  first surmise had been just, every 

  • feeling of displeasure against the  former was so sharpened by immediate 

  • disappointment, that she could hardly  reply with tolerable civility to 

  • the polite inquiries which he directly  afterwards approached to make

  • Attendance, forbearance, patience  with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She 

  • was resolved against any sort of  conversation with him, and turned away 

  • with a degree of ill-humour which  she could not wholly surmount even in 

  • speaking to Mr. Bingley, whose  blind partiality provoked her.

  • But Elizabeth was not formed for  ill-humour; and though every prospect 

  • of her own was destroyed for the evening,  

  • it could not dwell long on her spirits; and having told all her  

  • griefs to Charlotte Lucas, whom she had not seen for a week, she was soon able  

  • to make a voluntary transition to the oddities of her cousin,  

  • and to point him out to her particular notice. The first two dances, however,  

  • brought a return of distress; they were dances of mortification.  

  • Mr. Collins, awkward and solemn, apologising instead of attending,  

  • and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave her all the  

  • shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give.  

  • The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.

  • She danced next with an officer, and  had the refreshment of talking of 

  • Wickham, and of hearing that he was  universally liked. When those dances 

  • were over, she returned to Charlotte  Lucas, and was in conversation with 

  • her, when she found herself suddenly  addressed by Mr. Darcy who took 

  • her so much by surprise in his  application for her hand, that

  • without knowing what she did, she  accepted him. He walked away again 

  • immediately, and she was left to  fret over her own want of presence of 

  • mind; Charlotte tried to console her:

  • "I dare say you will find him very agreeable."

  • "Heaven forbid! _That_ would be the  greatest misfortune of all! To find 

  • a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate!  

  • Do not wish me such an evil."

  • When the dancing recommenced, howeverand Darcy approached to claim her 

  • hand, Charlotte could not help  cautioning her in a whisper, not to be

  • simpleton, and allow her fancy for  Wickham to make her appear unpleasant 

  • in the eyes of a man ten times  his consequence. Elizabeth made no 

  • answer, and took her place in the  set, amazed at the dignity to which 

  • she was arrived in being allowed  to stand opposite to Mr. Darcy, and 

  • reading in her neighbours' lookstheir equal amazement in beholding 

  • it. They stood for some time without  speaking a word; and she began to 

  • imagine that their silence was to  last through the two dances, and at 

  • first was resolved not to break ittill suddenly fancying that it would 

  • be the greater punishment to her  partner to oblige him to talk, she made 

  • some slight observation on the dance.  

  • He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes,  

  • she addressed him a second time with:--"It is _your_ turn to say  

  • something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and _you_ ought  

  • to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."

  • He smiled, and assured her that  whatever she wished him to say  

  • should be said.

  • "Very well. That reply will do for  the present. Perhaps by and by I may 

  • observe that private balls are much  pleasanter than public ones. But 

  • _now_ we may be silent."

  • "Do you talk by rule, thenwhile you are dancing?"

  • "Sometimes. One must speak a littleyou know. It would look odd to be 

  • entirely silent for half an hour together;  

  • and yet for the advantage of _some_, conversation ought to  

  • be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."

  • "Are you consulting your own feelings  in the present case, or do you 

  • imagine that you are gratifying mine?"

  • "Both," replied Elizabeth archly;  

  • "for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds.  

  • We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition,  

  • unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room,  

  • and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb."

  • "This is no very striking resemblance  of your own character, I am sure," 

  • said he. "How near it may be to  _mine_, I cannot pretend to say. _You

  • think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly."

  • "I must not decide on my own performance."

  • He made no answer, and they were  again silent till they had gone down 

  • the dance, when he asked her if she  and her sisters did not very often 

  • walk to Meryton. She answered in the affirmative,  

  • and, unable to resist the temptation, added,  

  • "When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance."

  • The effect was immediate. A deeper  shade of _hauteur_ overspread his 

  • features, but he said not a wordand Elizabeth, though blaming herself 

  • for her own weakness, could not go  on. At length Darcy spoke, and in

  • constrained manner said, "Mr. Wickham  is blessed with such happy manners 

  • as may ensure his _making_ friends--whether  

  • he may be equally capable of _retaining_ them, is less certain."

  • "He has been so unlucky as to lose  _your_ friendship," replied Elizabeth 

  • with emphasis, "and in a manner which he is likely  

  • to suffer from all his life."

  • Darcy made no answer, and seemed  desirous of changing the subject. At 

  • that moment, Sir William Lucas  appeared close to them, meaning to pass 

  • through the set to the other side  of the room; but on perceiving Mr

  • Darcy, he stopped with a bow of superior  

  • courtesy to compliment him on his dancing and his partner.

  • "I have been most highly gratified  indeed, my dear sir. Such very 

  • superior dancing is not often seenIt is evident that you belong to the 

  • first circles. Allow me to sayhowever, that your fair partner does not 

  • disgrace you, and that I must hope  to have this pleasure often repeated

  • especially when a certain desirable  event, my dear Eliza (glancing at 

  • her sister and Bingley) shall take  place. What congratulations will then 

  • flow in! I appeal to Mr. Darcy:--but  let me not interrupt you, sir. You 

  • will not thank me for detaining you  from the bewitching converse of that 

  • young lady, whose bright  eyes are also upbraiding me."

  • The latter part of this address was  scarcely heard by Darcy; but Sir 

  • William's allusion to his friend  seemed to strike him forcibly, and his 

  • eyes were directed with a very  serious expression towards Bingley and 

  • Jane, who were dancing togetherRecovering himself, however, shortly

  • he turned to his partner, and said,  

  • "Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of."

  • "I do not think we were speaking  at all. Sir William could not have 

  • interrupted two people in the room  who had less to say for themselves

  • We have tried two or three subjects  already without success, and what we 

  • are to talk of next I cannot imagine."

  • "What think you of books?" said he, smiling.

  • "Books--oh! no. I am sure we never read the same,  

  • or not with the same feelings."

  • "I am sorry you think so; but if that  be the case, there can at least be 

  • no want of subject. We may  compare our different opinions."

  • "No--I cannot talk of books in a ball-room;  

  • my head is always full of something else."

  • "The _present_ always occupies you  in such scenes--does it?" said he

  • with a look of doubt.

  • "Yes, always," she replied, without  knowing what she said, for her 

  • thoughts had wandered far from the subject,  

  • as soon afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming,  

  • "I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave,  

  • that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious,  

  • I suppose, as to its _being created_."

  • "I am," said he, with a firm voice.

  • "And never allow yourself  to be blinded by prejudice?"

  • "I hope not."

  • "It is particularly incumbent on  those who never change their opinion

  • to be secure of judging properly at first."

  • "May I ask to what these questions tend?"

  • "Merely to the illustration of _yourcharacter," said she, endeavouring 

  • to shake off her gravity. "I  am trying to make it out."

  • "And what is your success?"

  • She shook her head.  

  • "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly."

  • "I can readily believe," answered  he gravely, "that reports may vary 

  • greatly with respect to me; andcould wish, Miss Bennet, that you were 

  • not to sketch my character at the  present moment, as there is reason to 

  • fear that the performance would  reflect no credit on either."

  • "But if I do not take your likeness now,  

  • I may never have another opportunity."

  • "I would by no means suspend any  pleasure of yours," he coldly replied

  • She said no more, and they went  down the other dance and parted in 

  • silence; and on each side dissatisfiedthough not to an equal degree

  • for in Darcy's breast there wastolerable powerful feeling towards 

  • her, which soon procured her  pardon, and directed all his  

  • anger against another.

  • They had not long separated, when  Miss Bingley came towards her, and 

  • with an expression of civil disdain accosted her:

  • "So, Miss Eliza, I hear you are  quite delighted with George Wickham

  • Your sister has been talking to me  about him, and asking me a thousand 

  • questions; and I find that the young  man quite forgot to tell you, among 

  • his other communication, that he  was the son of old Wickham, the late 

  • Mr. Darcy's steward. Let me recommend  you, however, as a friend, not to 

  • give implicit confidence to all his  assertions; for as to Mr. Darcy's 

  • using him ill, it is perfectly  false; for, on the contrary, he has 

  • always been remarkably kind to himthough George Wickham has treated 

  • Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner.  I do not know the particulars, but 

  • I know very well that Mr. Darcy is  not in the least to blame, that he 

  • cannot bear to hear George Wickham  mentioned, and that though my brother 

  • thought that he could not well avoid  including him in his invitation to 

  • the officers, he was excessively glad  to find that he had taken himself 

  • out of the way. His coming into the  country at all is a most insolent 

  • thing, indeed, and I wonder how he  could presume to do it. I pity you

  • Miss Eliza, for this discovery of  your favourite's guilt; but really

  • considering his descent, one  could not expect much better."

  • "His guilt and his descent appear by  your account to be the same," said 

  • Elizabeth angrily;  

  • "for I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy's steward,  

  • and of _that_, I can assure you, he informed me himself."

  • "I beg your pardon," replied Miss  Bingley, turning away with a sneer

  • "Excuse my interference--it was kindly meant."

  • "Insolent girl!" said Elizabeth  to herself. "You are much mistaken 

  • if you expect to influence me by  such a paltry attack as this. I see 

  • nothing in it but your own wilful  ignorance and the malice of Mr

  • Darcy." She then sought her eldest  sister, who has undertaken to make 

  • inquiries on the same subject of  Bingley. Jane met her with a smile of 

  • such sweet complacency, a glow of  such happy expression, as sufficiently 

  • marked how well she was satisfied  with the occurrences of the evening

  • Elizabeth instantly read her feelingsand at that moment solicitude for 

  • Wickham, resentment against his  enemies, and everything else, gave way 

  • before the hope of Jane's being  in the fairest way for happiness.

  • "I want to know," said she, withcountenance no less smiling than her 

  • sister's, "what you have learnt about  Mr. Wickham. But perhaps you have 

  • been too pleasantly engaged to think  of any third person; in which case 

  • you may be sure of my pardon."

  • "No," replied Jane, "I have not  forgotten him; but I have nothing 

  • satisfactory to tell you. MrBingley does not know the whole of 

  • his history, and is quite ignorant  of the circumstances which have 

  • principally offended Mr. Darcy; but  he will vouch for the good conduct

  • the probity, and honour of his friendand is perfectly convinced that 

  • Mr. Wickham has deserved much less  attention from Mr. Darcy than he has 

  • received; and I am sorry to say by  his account as well as his sister's, 

  • Mr. Wickham is by no means a respectable  young man. I am afraid he has 

  • been very imprudent, and has  deserved to lose Mr. Darcy's regard."

  • "Mr. Bingley does not know Mr. Wickham himself?"

  • "No; he never saw him till  the other morning at Meryton."

  • "This account then is what he  has received from Mr. Darcy. I am 

  • satisfied. But what does he say of the living?"

  • "He does not exactly recollect the  circumstances, though he has heard 

  • them from Mr. Darcy more than once,  

  • but he believes that it was left to him _conditionally_ only."

  • "I have not a doubt of Mr. Bingley's  sincerity," said Elizabeth warmly

  • "but you must excuse my not being  convinced by assurances only. Mr

  • Bingley's defense of his friend was  a very able one, I dare say; but 

  • since he is unacquainted with several  parts of the story, and has learnt 

  • the rest from that friend himself,  

  • I shall venture to still think of both gentlemen as I did before."

  • She then changed the discourse to  one more gratifying to each, and on 

  • which there could be no difference  of sentiment. Elizabeth listened with 

  • delight to the happy, though modest  hopes which Jane entertained of Mr

  • Bingley's regard, and said all in  her power to heighten her confidence 

  • in it. On their being joined by MrBingley himself, Elizabeth withdrew 

  • to Miss Lucas; to whose inquiry  after the pleasantness of her last 

  • partner she had scarcely replied,  

  • before Mr. Collins came up to them, and told her with great exultation  

  • that he had just been so fortunate as to make a most important discovery.

  • "I have found out," said he, "bysingular accident, that there is now 

  • in the room a near relation of my  patroness. I happened to overhear the 

  • gentleman himself mentioning to the  young lady who does the honours of 

  • the house the names of his cousin  Miss de Bourgh, and of her mother Lady 

  • Catherine. How wonderfully these  sort of things occur! Who would have 

  • thought of my meeting with, perhaps,  a nephew of Lady Catherine de 

  • Bourgh in this assembly! I am most  thankful that the discovery is made 

  • in time for me to pay my respects  to him, which I am now going to 

  • do, and trust he will excuse my  not having done it before. My total 

  • ignorance of the connection  must plead my apology."

  • "You are not going to introduce  yourself to Mr. Darcy!"

  • "Indeed I am. I shall entreat his  pardon for not having done it earlier

  • I believe him to be Lady Catherine's  _nephew_. It will be in my power to 

  • assure him that her ladyship was  quite well yesterday se'nnight."

  • Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade  him from such a scheme, assuring him 

  • that Mr. Darcy would consider his  addressing him without introduction 

  • as an impertinent freedom, rather  than a compliment to his aunt; that 

  • it was not in the least necessary  there should be any notice on either 

  • side; and that if it were, it must  belong to Mr. Darcy, the superior in 

  • consequence, to begin the acquaintanceMr. Collins listened to her 

  • with the determined air of following  his own inclination, and, when she 

  • ceased speaking, replied thus:

  • "My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have  the highest opinion in the world in 

  • your excellent judgement in all  matters within the scope of your 

  • understanding; but permit me to  say, that there must be a wide 

  • difference between the established  forms of ceremony amongst the laity

  • and those which regulate the clergyfor, give me leave to observe that 

  • I consider the clerical office  as equal in point of dignity with 

  • the highest rank in the kingdom--provided  that a proper humility of 

  • behaviour is at the same time maintainedYou must therefore allow me to 

  • follow the dictates of my conscience  on this occasion, which leads me to 

  • perform what I look on as a point  of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to 

  • profit by your advice, which on every  other subject shall be my constant 

  • guide, though in the case before  us I consider myself more fitted by 

  • education and habitual study to  decide on what is right than a young 

  • lady like yourself." And withlow bow he left her to attack Mr

  • Darcy, whose reception of his advances  she eagerly watched, and whose 

  • astonishment at being so addressed  was very evident. Her cousin prefaced 

  • his speech with a solemn bow and  though she could not hear a word of 

  • it, she felt as if hearing it alland saw in the motion of his lips the 

  • words "apology," "Hunsford," and  "Lady Catherine de Bourgh." It vexed 

  • her to see him expose himself to such a man.  

  • Mr. Darcy was eyeing him with unrestrained wonder,  

  • and when at last Mr. Collins allowed him time to speak, replied with an air of distant  

  • civility. Mr. Collins, however, was not discouraged from speaking again,  

  • and Mr. Darcy's contempt seemed abundantly increasing with the  

  • length of his second speech, and at the end of it he only made him a slight bow,  

  • and moved another way. Mr. Collins then returned to Elizabeth.

  • "I have no reason, I assure you,"  said he, "to be dissatisfied with my 

  • reception. Mr. Darcy seemed much  pleased with the attention. He answered 

  • me with the utmost civility, and  even paid me the compliment of saying 

  • that he was so well convinced of  Lady Catherine's discernment as to be 

  • certain she could never bestowfavour unworthily. It was really a very 

  • handsome thought. Upon the whole,  I am much pleased with him."

  • As Elizabeth had no longer any interest  of her own to pursue, she turned 

  • her attention almost entirely on  her sister and Mr. Bingley; and the 

  • train of agreeable reflections which  her observations gave birth to

  • made her perhaps almost as happy as  Jane. She saw her in idea settled in 

  • that very house, in all the felicity  which a marriage of true affection 

  • could bestow; and she felt capableunder such circumstances, of 

  • endeavouring even to like Bingley's  two sisters. Her mother's thoughts 

  • she plainly saw were bent the same  way, and she determined not to 

  • venture near her, lest she might  hear too much. When they sat down to 

  • supper, therefore, she considered  it a most unlucky perverseness which 

  • placed them within one of each otherand deeply was she vexed to find 

  • that her mother was talking to that  one person (Lady Lucas) freely

  • openly, and of nothing else but her  expectation that Jane would soon 

  • be married to Mr. Bingley. It was an  animating subject, and Mrs. Bennet 

  • seemed incapable of fatigue while  enumerating the advantages of the 

  • match. His being such a charming  young man, and so rich, and living but 

  • three miles from them, were the  first points of self-gratulation; and 

  • then it was such a comfort to think  how fond the two sisters were of 

  • Jane, and to be certain that they  must desire the connection as much as 

  • she could do. It was, moreover, such  a promising thing for her younger 

  • daughters, as Jane's marrying so  greatly must throw them in the way of 

  • other rich men; and lastly, it was  so pleasant at her time of life to be 

  • able to consign her single daughters  to the care of their sister, that 

  • she might not be obliged to go into  company more than she liked. It was 

  • necessary to make this circumstance  a matter of pleasure, because on 

  • such occasions it is the etiquettebut no one was less likely than Mrs

  • Bennet to find comfort in staying  home at any period of her life. She 

  • concluded with many good wishes that  Lady Lucas might soon be equally 

  • fortunate, though evidently and  triumphantly believing there was no 

  • chance of it.

  • In vain did Elizabeth endeavour to  check the rapidity of her mother's 

  • words, or persuade her to describe  her felicity in a less audible 

  • whisper; for, to her inexpressible  vexation, she could perceive that the 

  • chief of it was overheard by MrDarcy, who sat opposite to them. Her 

  • mother only scolded her for being nonsensical.

  • "What is Mr. Darcy to me, praythat I should be afraid of him? I am 

  • sure we owe him no such particular  civility as to be obliged to say 

  • nothing _he_ may not like to hear."

  • "For heaven's sake, madam, speak  lower. What advantage can it be for you 

  • to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never  recommend yourself to his friend by 

  • so doing!"

  • Nothing that she could say, howeverhad any influence. Her mother would 

  • talk of her views in the same  intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and 

  • blushed again with shame and vexationShe could not help frequently 

  • glancing her eye at Mr. Darcy, though  every glance convinced her of what 

  • she dreaded; for though he was not  always looking at her mother, she was 

  • convinced that his attention was  invariably fixed by her. The expression 

  • of his face changed gradually  from indignant contempt  

  • to a composed and steady gravity.

  • At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had  no more to say; and Lady Lucas, who 

  • had been long yawning at the  repetition of delights which she saw no 

  • likelihood of sharing, was left  to the comforts of cold ham and 

  • chicken. Elizabeth now began to reviveBut not long was the interval of 

  • tranquillity; for, when supper was  over, singing was talked of, and 

  • she had the mortification of seeing  Mary, after very little entreaty

  • preparing to oblige the company. By  many significant looks and silent 

  • entreaties, did she endeavour to  prevent such a proof of complaisance

  • but in vain; Mary would not understand  them; such an opportunity of 

  • exhibiting was delightful to herand she began her song. Elizabeth's 

  • eyes were fixed on her with most  painful sensations, and she watched her 

  • progress through the several stanzas  with an impatience which was very 

  • ill rewarded at their close; for  Mary, on receiving, amongst the thanks 

  • of the table, the hint of a hope  that she might be prevailed on to 

  • favour them again, after the pause  of half a minute began another

  • Mary's powers were by no means fitted  for such a display; her voice was 

  • weak, and her manner affectedElizabeth was in agonies. She looked at 

  • Jane, to see how she bore it; but  Jane was very composedly talking to 

  • Bingley. She looked at his two  sisters, and saw them making signs 

  • of derision at each other, and  at Darcy, who continued, however

  • imperturbably grave. She looked  at her father to entreat his 

  • interference, lest Mary should be  singing all night. He took the hint

  • and when Mary had finished her second song,  

  • said aloud, "That will do extremely well, child. You have  

  • delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit."

  • Mary, though pretending not to  hear, was somewhat disconcerted; and 

  • Elizabeth, sorry for her, and sorry  for her father's speech, was afraid 

  • her anxiety had done no good. Others  of the party were now applied to.

  • "If I," said Mr. Collins, "were so  fortunate as to be able to sing, I 

  • should have great pleasure, I am  sure, in obliging the company with an 

  • air; for I consider music as a very  innocent diversion, and perfectly 

  • compatible with the profession ofclergyman. I do not mean, however

  • to assert that we can be justified  in devoting too much of our time 

  • to music, for there are certainly  other things to be attended to. The 

  • rector of a parish has much to doIn the first place, he must make 

  • such an agreement for tithes as may  be beneficial to himself and not 

  • offensive to his patron. He must  write his own sermons; and the time 

  • that remains will not be too much  for his parish duties, and the care 

  • and improvement of his dwellingwhich he cannot be excused from making 

  • as comfortable as possible. Anddo not think it of light importance 

  • that he should have attentive and  conciliatory manners towards everybody

  • especially towards those to whom he  owes his preferment. I cannot acquit 

  • him of that duty; nor could I think  well of the man who should omit an 

  • occasion of testifying his respect  towards anybody connected with the 

  • family." And with a bow to Mr. Darcyhe concluded his speech, which had 

  • been spoken so loud as to be heard  by half the room. Many stared--many 

  • smiled; but no one looked more amused  than Mr. Bennet himself, while his 

  • wife seriously commended Mr. Collins  for having spoken so sensibly

  • and observed in a half-whisper to Lady Lucas,  

  • that he was a remarkably clever, good kind of young man.

  • To Elizabeth it appeared that, had  her family made an agreement to 

  • expose themselves as much as they  could during the evening, it would 

  • have been impossible for them to  play their parts with more spirit or 

  • finer success; and happy did she  think it for Bingley and her sister 

  • that some of the exhibition had  escaped his notice, and that his 

  • feelings were not of a sort to be  much distressed by the folly which he 

  • must have witnessed. That his two  sisters and Mr. Darcy, however, should 

  • have such an opportunity of ridiculing  her relations, was bad enough

  • and she could not determine  whether the silent contempt of the 

  • gentleman, or the insolent smiles of  the ladies, were more intolerable.

  • The rest of the evening brought her  little amusement. She was teased by 

  • Mr. Collins, who continued most  perseveringly by her side, and though 

  • he could not prevail on her to dance  with him again, put it out of her 

  • power to dance with others. In vain  did she entreat him to stand up with 

  • somebody else, and offer to introduce  him to any young lady in the room

  • He assured her, that as to dancinghe was perfectly indifferent to it

  • that his chief object was by delicate  attentions to recommend himself to 

  • her and that he should therefore make  a point of remaining close to her 

  • the whole evening. There was no  arguing upon such a project. She owed 

  • her greatest relief to her friend  Miss Lucas, who often joined them, and 

  • good-naturedly engaged MrCollins's conversation to herself.

  • She was at least free from the  offense of Mr. Darcy's further notice

  • though often standing withinvery short distance of her, quite 

  • disengaged, he never came near enough  to speak. She felt it to be the 

  • probable consequence of her  allusions to Mr. Wickham,  

  • and rejoiced in it.

  • The Longbourn party were the last of  all the company to depart, and, by 

  • a manoeuvre of Mrs. Bennet, had to  wait for their carriage a quarter of 

  • an hour after everybody else was  gone, which gave them time to see how 

  • heartily they were wished away by  some of the family. Mrs. Hurst and her 

  • sister scarcely opened their mouthsexcept to complain of fatigue, and 

  • were evidently impatient to have the  house to themselves. They repulsed 

  • every attempt of Mrs. Bennet at  conversation, and by so doing threw

  • languor over the whole party, which  was very little relieved by the 

  • long speeches of Mr. Collins, who  was complimenting Mr. Bingley and his 

  • sisters on the elegance of their  entertainment, and the hospitality and 

  • politeness which had marked their  behaviour to their guests. Darcy said 

  • nothing at all. Mr. Bennet, in equal  silence, was enjoying the scene

  • Mr. Bingley and Jane were standing  together, a little detached from the 

  • rest, and talked only to each otherElizabeth preserved as steady

  • silence as either Mrs. Hurst or  Miss Bingley; and even Lydia was too 

  • much fatigued to utter more than  the occasional exclamation of "Lord

  • how tired I am!" accompanied by a violent yawn.

  • When at length they arose to take  leave, Mrs. Bennet was most pressingly 

  • civil in her hope of seeing the  whole family soon at Longbourn, and 

  • addressed herself especially to MrBingley, to assure him how happy he 

  • would make them by eating a family  dinner with them at any time, without 

  • the ceremony of a formal invitationBingley was all grateful pleasure

  • and he readily engaged for taking the  earliest opportunity of waiting on 

  • her, after his return from Londonwhither he was obliged to go the next 

  • day for a short time.

  • Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfiedand quitted the house under the 

  • delightful persuasion that, allowing  for the necessary preparations of 

  • settlements, new carriages, and  wedding clothes, she should undoubtedly 

  • see her daughter settled at Netherfield  in the course of three or four 

  • months. Of having another daughter  married to Mr. Collins, she thought 

  • with equal certainty, and with  considerable, though not equal, pleasure

  • Elizabeth was the least dear to her  of all her children; and though the 

  • man and the match were quite good  enough for _her_, the worth of each 

  • was eclipsed by Mr. Bingley and Netherfield.

  • Chapter 19

  • The next day opened a new scene  at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his 

  • declaration in form. Having resolved  to do it without loss of time, as 

  • his leave of absence extended only  to the following Saturday, and having 

  • no feelings of diffidence to make  it distressing to himself even at 

  • the moment, he set about it invery orderly manner, with all the 

  • observances, which he supposedregular part of the business. On 

  • finding Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, and  one of the younger girls together

  • soon after breakfast, he addressed  the mother in these words:

  • "May I hope, madam, for your interest  with your fair daughter Elizabeth

  • when I solicit for the honour of  a private audience with her in the 

  • course of this morning?"

  • Before Elizabeth had time for  anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs

  • Bennet answered instantly, "Oh  dear!--yes--certainly. I am sure Lizzy 

  • will be very happy--I am sure she  can have no objection. Come, Kitty, I 

  • want you up stairs." And, gathering  her work together, she was hastening 

  • away, when Elizabeth called out:

  • "Dear madam, do not go. I beg you  will not go. Mr. Collins must excuse 

  • me. He can have nothing to say to  me that anybody need not hear. I am 

  • going away myself."

  • "No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire  you to stay where you are." And upon 

  • Elizabeth's seeming really, with  vexed and embarrassed looks, about to 

  • escape, she added: "Lizzy, I _insistupon your staying and hearing Mr

  • Collins."

  • Elizabeth would not oppose such  an injunction--and a moment's 

  • consideration making her also sensible  that it would be wisest to get it 

  • over as soon and as quietly as possibleshe sat down again and tried to 

  • conceal, by incessant employment the  feelings which were divided between 

  • distress and diversion. Mrs. Bennet  and Kitty walked off, and as soon as 

  • they were gone, Mr. Collins began.

  • "Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeththat your modesty, so far from 

  • doing you any disservice, rather  adds to your other perfections. You 

  • would have been less amiable in my  eyes had there _not_ been this little 

  • unwillingness; but allow me to assure  you, that I have your respected 

  • mother's permission for this  address. You can hardly doubt the 

  • purport of my discourse, however  your natural delicacy may lead you to 

  • dissemble; my attentions have been  too marked to be mistaken. Almost as 

  • soon as I entered the house, I  singled you out as the companion of 

  • my future life. But before I am run  away with by my feelings on this 

  • subject, perhaps it would be  advisable for me to state my  

  • reasons for marrying--and, moreover,  

  • for coming into Hertfordshire with the design of selecting a wife, as I certainly did."

  • The idea of Mr. Collins, with all  his solemn composure, being run away 

  • with by his feelings, made Elizabeth  so near laughing, that she could 

  • not use the short pause he allowed  in any attempt to stop him further

  • and he continued:

  • "My reasons for marrying are, firstthat I think it a right thing for 

  • every clergyman in easy circumstances  (like myself) to set the example 

  • of matrimony in his parish; secondlythat I am convinced that it will 

  • add very greatly to my happinessand thirdly--which perhaps I ought 

  • to have mentioned earlier, that  it is the particular advice and 

  • recommendation of the very noble lady  whom I have the honour of calling 

  • patroness. Twice has she condescended  to give me her opinion (unasked 

  • too!) on this subject; and it was  but the very Saturday night before

  • left Hunsford--between our pools at  quadrille, while Mrs. Jenkinson was 

  • arranging Miss de Bourgh's footstoolthat she said, 'Mr. Collins, you 

  • must marry. A clergyman like you  must marry. Choose properly, choose 

  • a gentlewoman for _my_ sake; and for  your _own_, let her be an active

  • useful sort of person, not brought  up high, but able to make a small 

  • income go a good way. This is my  advice. Find such a woman as soon as 

  • you can, bring her to Hunsford, and  I will visit her.' Allow me, by the 

  • way, to observe, my fair cousinthat I do not reckon the notice 

  • and kindness of Lady Catherine de  Bourgh as among the least of the 

  • advantages in my power to offerYou will find her manners beyond 

  • anything I can describe; and your  wit and vivacity, I think, must be 

  • acceptable to her, especially  when tempered with the silence and 

  • respect which her rank will inevitably  excite. Thus much for my general 

  • intention in favour of matrimonyit remains to be told why my views 

  • were directed towards Longbourn instead  of my own neighbourhood, where

  • can assure you there are many amiable  young women. But the fact is, that 

  • being, as I am, to inherit this estate  after the death of your honoured 

  • father (who, however, may live many  years longer), I could not satisfy 

  • myself without resolving to choosewife from among his daughters, that 

  • the loss to them might be as little  as possible, when the melancholy 

  • event takes place--which, howeveras I have already said, may not 

  • be for several years. This has  been my motive, my fair cousin, and 

  • I flatter myself it will not sink  me in your esteem. And now nothing 

  • remains for me but to assure you in  the most animated language of the 

  • violence of my affection. To fortune  I am perfectly indifferent, and 

  • shall make no demand of that nature  on your father, since I am well 

  • aware that it could not be complied  with; and that one thousand pounds 

  • in the four per cents, which will  not be yours till after your mother's 

  • decease, is all that you may ever  be entitled to. On that head

  • therefore, I shall be uniformly silentand you may assure yourself that 

  • no ungenerous reproach shall ever  pass my lips when we are married."

  • It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.

  • "You are too hasty, sir," she cried.  

  • "You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further  

  • loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me.  

  • I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but it is impossible for  

  • me to do otherwise than to decline them."

  • "I am not now to learn," replied MrCollins, with a formal wave of the 

  • hand, "that it is usual with young  ladies to reject the addresses of the 

  • man whom they secretly mean to acceptwhen he first applies for their 

  • favour; and that sometimes the refusal  is repeated a second, or even

  • third time. I am therefore by no means  discouraged by what you have just 

  • said, and shall hope to lead  you to the altar ere long."

  • "Upon my word, sir," cried  Elizabeth, "your hope is a rather 

  • extraordinary one after my declaration.  I do assure you that I am not 

  • one of those young ladies (if such  young ladies there are) who are so 

  • daring as to risk their happiness on  the chance of being asked a second 

  • time. I am perfectly serious in my  refusal. You could not make _me

  • happy, and I am convinced thatam the last woman in the world who 

  • could make you so. Nay, were your  friend Lady Catherine to know me, I 

  • am persuaded she would find me in  every respect ill qualified for the 

  • situation."

  • "Were it certain that Lady Catherine  would think so," said Mr. Collins 

  • very gravely--"but I cannot imagine  that her ladyship would at all 

  • disapprove of you. And you may be  certain when I have the honour of 

  • seeing her again, I shall speak  in the very highest terms of your 

  • modesty, economy, and other  amiable qualification."

  • "Indeed, Mr. Collins, all praise  of me will be unnecessary. You 

  • must give me leave to judge for  myself, and pay me the compliment 

  • of believing what I say. I wish you  very happy and very rich, and by 

  • refusing your hand, do all in my  power to prevent your being otherwise

  • In making me the offer, you must  have satisfied the delicacy of your 

  • feelings with regard to my familyand may take possession of Longbourn 

  • estate whenever it fallswithout any self-reproach.  

  • This matter may be considered, therefore,  

  • as finally settled." And rising as she thus spoke, she would have quitted the room,  

  • had Mr. Collins not thus addressed her:

  • "When I do myself the honour of  speaking to you next on the subject, I 

  • shall hope to receive a more favourable  answer than you have now given 

  • me; though I am far from accusing  you of cruelty at present, because

  • know it to be the established custom  of your sex to reject a man on 

  • the first application, and perhaps  you have even now said as much to 

  • encourage my suit as would be consistent with the  

  • true delicacy of the female character."

  • "Really, Mr. Collins," cried Elizabeth  with some warmth, "you puzzle me 

  • exceedingly. If what I have hitherto  said can appear to you in the form 

  • of encouragement, I know not how to  express my refusal in such a way as 

  • to convince you of its being one."

  • "You must give me leave to flatter  myself, my dear cousin, that your 

  • refusal of my addresses is merely  words of course. My reasons for 

  • believing it are briefly these: It  does not appear to me that my hand is 

  • unworthy your acceptance, or that  the establishment I can offer would 

  • be any other than highly desirableMy situation in life, my connections 

  • with the family of de Bourgh, and  my relationship to your own, are 

  • circumstances highly in my favourand you should take it into further 

  • consideration, that in spite of your  manifold attractions, it is by no 

  • means certain that another offer of  marriage may ever be made you. Your 

  • portion is unhappily so small that  it will in all likelihood undo 

  • the effects of your loveliness and  amiable qualifications. As I must 

  • therefore conclude that you are not  serious in your rejection of me

  • I shall choose to attribute it to  your wish of increasing my love by 

  • suspense, according to the usual  practice of elegant females."

  • "I do assure you, sir, that I have  no pretensions whatever to that kind 

  • of elegance which consists in  tormenting a respectable man. I would 

  • rather be paid the compliment  of being believed sincere.  

  • I thank you again and again for the  

  • honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible.  

  • My feelings in every respect forbid it. Can I speak plainer?  

  • Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to plague you,  

  • but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart."

  • "You are uniformly charming!"  cried he, with an air of awkward 

  • gallantry; "and I am persuaded  that when sanctioned by the express 

  • authority of both your excellent parents,  

  • my proposals will not fail of being acceptable."

  • To such perseverance in wilful  self-deception Elizabeth would make 

  • no reply, and immediately and in  silence withdrew; determined, if 

  • he persisted in considering her  repeated refusals as flattering 

  • encouragement, to apply to her fatherwhose negative might be uttered 

  • in such a manner as to be decisiveand whose behaviour at least could 

  • not be mistaken for the affectation  and coquetry of an elegant female.

  • Chapter 20

  • Mr. Collins was not left long to  the silent contemplation of his 

  • successful love; for Mrs. Bennethaving dawdled about in the vestibule 

  • to watch for the end of the conferenceno sooner saw Elizabeth open 

  • the door and with quick step pass  her towards the staircase, than she 

  • entered the breakfast-room, and  congratulated both him and herself in 

  • warm terms on the happy prospect or  their nearer connection. Mr. Collins 

  • received and returned these felicitations  with equal pleasure, and then 

  • proceeded to relate the particulars  of their interview, with the result 

  • of which he trusted he had every  reason to be satisfied, since the 

  • refusal which his cousin had steadfastly  given him would naturally flow 

  • from her bashful modesty and the  genuine delicacy of her character.

  • This information, however, startled  Mrs. Bennet; she would have been 

  • glad to be equally satisfied that  her daughter had meant to encourage 

  • him by protesting against his proposals,  

  • but she dared not believe it, and could not help saying so.

  • "But, depend upon it, Mr. Collins,"  she added, "that Lizzy shall be 

  • brought to reason. I will speak to  her about it directly. She is a very 

  • headstrong, foolish girl, and does  not know her own interest but I will 

  • _make_ her know it."

  • "Pardon me for interrupting youmadam," cried Mr. Collins; "but if 

  • she is really headstrong and  foolish, I know not whether she would 

  • altogether be a very desirable  wife to a man in my situation, who 

  • naturally looks for happiness in  the marriage state. If therefore she 

  • actually persists in rejecting my  suit, perhaps it were better not 

  • to force her into accepting mebecause if liable to such defects of 

  • temper, she could not  contribute much to my felicity."

  • "Sir, you quite misunderstand me,"  said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed. "Lizzy is 

  • only headstrong in such matters as  these. In everything else she is as 

  • good-natured a girl as ever lived. I  will go directly to Mr. Bennet, and 

  • we shall very soon settle it with her, I am sure."

  • She would not give him time to  reply, but hurrying instantly to her 

  • husband, called out as she entered  the library, "Oh! Mr. Bennet, you 

  • are wanted immediately; we are all  in an uproar. You must come and make 

  • Lizzy marry Mr. Collins, for she vows  she will not have him, and if you 

  • do not make haste he will change  his mind and not have _her_."

  • Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his  book as she entered, and fixed them 

  • on her face with a calm unconcern which was not in  

  • the least altered by her communication.

  • "I have not the pleasure of  understanding you," said he, when she had 

  • finished her speech. "Of what are you talking?"

  • "Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy  declares she will not have Mr. Collins

  • and Mr. Collins begins to say  that he will not have Lizzy."

  • "And what am I to do on the occasionIt seems an hopeless business."

  • "Speak to Lizzy about it yourselfTell her that you insist upon her 

  • marrying him."

  • "Let her be called downShe shall hear my opinion."

  • Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and  Miss Elizabeth was summoned to the 

  • library.

  • "Come here, child," cried her father  as she appeared. "I have sent for 

  • you on an affair of importance. I  understand that Mr. Collins has made 

  • you an offer of marriage. Is it  true?" Elizabeth replied that it was

  • "Very well--and this offer of  marriage you have refused?"

  • "I have, sir."

  • "Very well. We now come to the  point. Your mother insists upon your 

  • accepting it. Is it not so, Mrs. Bennet?"

  • "Yes, or I will never see her again."

  • "An unhappy alternative is before you,  

  • Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents.  

  • Your mother will never see you again if you do _not_ marry Mr. Collins,  

  • and I will never see you again if you _do_."

  • Elizabeth could not but smile at such  a conclusion of such a beginning

  • but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded  herself that her husband regarded the 

  • affair as she wished, was  excessively disappointed.

  • "What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, in  talking this way? You promised me to 

  • _insist_ upon her marrying him."

  • "My dear," replied her husband, "I  have two small favours to request

  • First, that you will allow me the  free use of my understanding on the 

  • present occasion; and secondly, of  my room. I shall be glad to have the 

  • library to myself as soon as may be."

  • Not yet, however, in spite of her  disappointment in her husband, did 

  • Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She  talked to Elizabeth again and again

  • coaxed and threatened her by turns.  

  • She endeavoured to secure Jane in her interest; but Jane,  

  • with all possible mildness, declined interfering; and Elizabeth,  

  • sometimes with real earnestness, and sometimes with playful gaiety,  

  • replied to her attacks. Though her manner varied, however, her determination never did.

  • Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating  in solitude on what had passed

  • He thought too well of himself to  comprehend on what motives his cousin 

  • could refuse him; and though his pride  was hurt, he suffered in no other 

  • way. His regard for her was quite  imaginary; and the possibility of her 

  • deserving her mother's reproach  prevented his feeling any regret.

  • While the family were in this  confusion, Charlotte Lucas came to spend 

  • the day with them. She was met in the  vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to 

  • her, cried in a half whisper, "I am  glad you are come, for there is such 

  • fun here! What do you think has  happened this morning? Mr. Collins has 

  • made an offer to Lizzyand she will not have him."

  • Charlotte hardly had time to answerbefore they were joined by Kitty

  • who came to tell the same newsand no sooner had they entered the 

  • breakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet  was alone, than she likewise began on 

  • the subject, calling on Miss Lucas  for her compassion, and entreating 

  • her to persuade her friend Lizzy to  comply with the wishes of all her 

  • family. "Pray do, my dear Miss Lucas,"  she added in a melancholy tone

  • "for nobody is on my side, nobody  takes part with me. I am cruelly used

  • nobody feels for my poor nerves."

  • Charlotte's reply was spared by  the entrance of Jane and Elizabeth.

  • "Aye, there she comes," continued  Mrs. Bennet, "looking as unconcerned 

  • as may be, and caring no more for  us than if we were at York, provided 

  • she can have her own way. Buttell you, Miss Lizzy--if you take it 

  • into your head to go on refusing  every offer of marriage in this way

  • you will never get a husband at  all--and I am sure I do not know who is 

  • to maintain you when your father is  dead. I shall not be able to keep 

  • you--and so I warn you. I have done  with you from this very day. I told 

  • you in the library, you know, that  I should never speak to you again

  • and you will find me as good as my  word. I have no pleasure in talking 

  • to undutiful children. Not thathave much pleasure, indeed, in talking 

  • to anybody. People who suffer asdo from nervous complaints can have 

  • no great inclination for talkingNobody can tell what I suffer! But it 

  • is always so. Those who do not  complain are never pitied."

  • Her daughters listened in silence  to this effusion, sensible that 

  • any attempt to reason with her or  soothe her would only increase the 

  • irritation. She talked on, thereforewithout interruption from any of 

  • them, till they were joined by MrCollins, who entered the room with 

  • an air more stately than usualand on perceiving whom, she said to 

  • the girls, "Now, I do insist upon  it, that you, all of you, hold 

  • your tongues, and let me and  Mr. Collins have a little  

  • conversation together."

  • Elizabeth passed quietly out of the  room, Jane and Kitty followed, but 

  • Lydia stood her ground, determined  to hear all she could; and Charlotte

  • detained first by the civility of  Mr. Collins, whose inquiries after 

  • herself and all her family were  very minute, and then by a little 

  • curiosity, satisfied herself with  walking to the window and pretending 

  • not to hear. In a doleful voice  Mrs. Bennet began the projected 

  • conversation: "Oh! Mr. Collins!"

  • "My dear madam," replied he, "let  us be for ever silent on this point

  • Far be it from me," he presently  continued, in a voice that marked his 

  • displeasure, "to resent the behaviour  of your daughter. Resignation 

  • to inevitable evils is the duty  of us all; the peculiar duty of

  • young man who has been so fortunate  as I have been in early preferment

  • and I trust I am resigned. Perhaps  not the less so from feeling a doubt 

  • of my positive happiness had my fair  cousin honoured me with her hand

  • for I have often observed that  resignation is never so perfect as 

  • when the blessing denied begins to  lose somewhat of its value in our 

  • estimation. You will not, I hopeconsider me as showing any disrespect 

  • to your family, my dear madam, by  thus withdrawing my pretensions to 

  • your daughter's favour, without having  paid yourself and Mr. Bennet the 

  • compliment of requesting you to  interpose your authority in my 

  • behalf. My conduct may, I fear, be  objectionable in having accepted my 

  • dismission from your daughter's lips  instead of your own. But we are all 

  • liable to error. I have certainly  meant well through the whole affair

  • My object has been to secure an  amiable companion for myself, with due 

  • consideration for the advantage of  all your family, and if my _manner

  • has been at all reprehensible,  I here beg leave to apologise

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

Subtitles and vocabulary

Click the word to look it up Click the word to find further inforamtion about it