Kitabı oku: «Pride and Prejudice / Гордость и предубеждение», sayfa 3

Chapter 16

The next day Elizabeth decided to ask Mr. Wickham about Mr. Darcy. They were at Mr. Phillip’s house. Mr. Wickham did not play at whist, and with ready delight was he received at the other table between Elizabeth and Lydia. Elizabeth was very willing to hear the history of his acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. Her curiosity was unexpectedly relieved. Mr. Wickham began the story. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton; and, after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.

“About a month,” said Elizabeth; and then added, “He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I believe.”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. I have been connected with his family from my infancy.”

Elizabeth was very surprised.

“You may well be surprised, Miss Bennet, 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, “I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. It is impossible for me to be impartial. Here you are in your own family.”

“Upon my word, he is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride.”

“The world is blinded by his money, or frightened by his high and imposing manners,” Wickham shook his head. “We are not friends, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding. His father, Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that I ever met, and the truest friend I ever had. But his son disappointed the hopes and disgraced the memory of his father.”

Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all her heart.

“I am a disappointed man. I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for. The church ought to have been my profession – I was brought up for the church.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes – old Mr. Darcy wanted to give me the best living in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. But the living was given to somebody else.”

“Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded?”

“Yes, unfortunately his son decided to change Mr. Darcy’s last will. 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 I can forget his father, I can never defy or expose him.”

Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than ever.

“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 understand, maybe his jealousy. Had Mr. Darcy liked me less, his son might have treated me better. But his father’s attachment to me irritated him, I believe.”

“I had not thought so very ill of him.”

Elizabeth exclaimed, “To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father! Who had been his companion from childhood!”

“We were born in the same parish; 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 was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Before my father’s death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me.”

“How strange!” cried Elizabeth. “How abominable!”

“It is wonderful,” replied Wickham, “for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend.”

“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. Family pride, and filial pride – for he is very proud of what his father was.”

“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. Since her father’s death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her.”

“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley!” said Elizabeth. “How can Mr. Bingley, who is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How 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. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and perhaps agreeable. By the way, 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 they say that she and her cousin will unite the two estates.”

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

“Mr. Collins,” said she, “speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter.”

“I have not seen her for many years,” replied Wickham; “but I very well remember that I never liked her, and that her manners were dictatorial and insolent.”

Elizabeth smiled. Mr. Wickham’s manners recommended him to everybody. Whatever he said, was said well; and whatever he did, done gracefully. Elizabeth could think of nothing but of Mr. Wickham, and of what he had told her, all the way home.

Chapter 17

Elizabeth related to Jane the next day what had passed between Mr. Wickham and herself. Jane listened with astonishment and concern; she did not know how to believe that Mr. Darcy could be so unworthy of Mr. Bingley’s regard.

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. 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.

The prospect of the Netherfield ball was extremely agreeable to every female of the family. Mrs. Bennet was particularly flattered by receiving the invitation from Mr. Bingley himself. Jane pictured to herself a happy evening in the society of her two friends, and Elizabeth thought with pleasure of dancing with Mr. Wickham.

Elizabeth was in a very good mood. And though she did not often speak to Mr. Collins, she could not help asking him whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley’s invitation.

“I do not think, 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. And I take this opportunity of inviting you, Miss Elizabeth, for the two first dances.”

Elizabeth accepted Mr. Collins’s proposal with as good a grace as she could.

Chapter 18

Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield, and looked in vain for Mr. Wickham, a doubt of his coming had never occurred to her. But his friend Denny, to whom Lydia eagerly applied, said that Wickham had been obliged to go to town on business the day before.

But Elizabeth was not made for ill-humour; and though her hopes were destroyed for the evening, she could not be sad long. The first two dances, however, brought her a sense of distress; they were dances of mortification. Mr. Collins was awkward and solemn. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.

She danced next with an officer, and heard that Mr. Wickham was universally liked. When those dances were over, she returned to Charlotte Lucas. Suddenly Mr. Darcy invited her to dance. Without knowing what she did, she accepted him.

They stood for some time without speaking a word. 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. Perhaps I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent.”

“Do you talk while you are dancing?”

“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know.”

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 ‘yes’, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, “When you met us there the other day, we had just met a new acquaintance.”

The effect was immediate. Darcy said, “Mr. Wickham has so happy manners that he makes friends easily.”

“He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship,” replied Elizabeth with emphasis.

Darcy made no answer.

“What do you think of books?” said he, smiling.

“Books – oh! no. I am sure we never read the same books, or not with the same feelings.”

“I am sorry you think so; but 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 – does it?” said he, with a look of doubt.

“Yes, always,” she replied, without knowing what she said.

She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied.

Miss Bingley came towards her:

“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. I find that the young man quite forgot to tell you that he was the son of old Wickham, the late Mr. Darcy’s steward. Let me recommend you, however, as a friend, not to believe him much; for as to Mr. Darcy’s using him ill, it is perfectly false; for, on the contrary, he has always been remarkably kind to him, though George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner.”

“You are much mistaken,” said Elizabeth to herself, “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.”

Elizabeth came to Jane.

“I want to know,” said she, “what you have learnt about Mr. Wickham.”

“I have nothing satisfactory to tell you,” replied Jane, “Mr. Bingley does not know the whole of his history, and is quite ignorant of the circumstances which have principally offended Mr. Darcy. And he is perfectly convinced that Mr. Wickham has deserved much less attention from Mr. Darcy than he has received. And I am sorry to say that Mr. Wickham is not 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 opinion 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. Collins came up to them, and told her with great exultation that he had just been so fortunate.

“I have found out,” said he, “by a singular accident, that there is now in the room a near relation of my patroness. How wonderfully these sort of things occur!”

“You are not going to introduce yourself to Mr. Darcy!”

“Indeed I am. I believe him to be Lady Catherine’s nephew.”

Elizabeth tried hard to dissuade him from such a scheme. But Mr. Collins was determined. And with a low bow he left her to attack Mr. Darcy. Mr. Collins then returned to Elizabeth.

“Mr. Darcy,” said he, “seemed much pleased with the attention. He answered me with the utmost civility. I am much pleased with him.”

When they sat down to supper, Mrs. Bennet was speaking about Jane’s marrying. Her mother would talk of her views in the most intelligible tone. Elizabeth blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation.

At length, however, Mrs. Bennet had no more to say; and Elizabeth now began to revive. But the rest of the evening brought her little amusement. She was teased by Mr. Collins, who continued to talk to her all the time. In vain did she entreat him to talk to somebody else, and offer to introduce him to any young lady in the room.

Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied, and quitted the house under the delightful persuasion that 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.

Chapter 19

The next day Mr. Collins made his declaration in form. 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, to have a private audience with your fair daughter Elizabeth 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.” 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 she added: “Lizzy, I insist upon your staying and hearing Mr. Collins.”

Elizabeth sat down again and tried to conceal. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty walked off, and as soon as they were gone, Mr. Collins began.

“Believe me, my dear Miss Elizabeth, that your modesty rather adds to your other perfections. 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. Almost as soon as I entered the house, I thought about you as the companion of my future life. But perhaps it would be better to state my reasons for marrying. My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every clergyman in easy circumstances (like myself) to set the example of matrimony in his parish. Secondly, that I am convinced that it will make my life happier; and 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. She said, ‘Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you must marry. Choose properly, this is my advice. Find such a woman as soon as you can, bring her here, and I will visit her.’ Allow me, by the way, to observe, my fair cousin, that my views were directed towards Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I can assure you there are many amiable young women. But the fact is, that I will inherit this estate after the death of your honoured father (who, however, may live many years longer). And I decided to choose a wife from among his daughters. This has been my motive, my fair cousin. To money I am perfectly indifferent, and shall make no demand of that nature on your father. On that head, therefore, I shall be silent; and 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,” cried Elizabeth. “You forget that I have made no answer. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honour of your proposals, but I must decline them.”

“Are you serious?” asked Mr. Collins, with a formal wave of the hand.

“Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who could make you so. I thank you again and again for the honour you have done me in your proposals, but to accept them is absolutely impossible.”

Chapter 20

When Elizabeth opened the door, Mrs. Bennet entered the breakfast-room, and congratulated both him and herself in warm terms on the happy prospect or their nearer connection. Mr. Collins related the details of their interview.

“Mr. Collins,” said Mrs. Bennet, “I will speak to Lizzy 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 you, madam,” cried Mr. Collins; “but if she is really headstrong and foolish, I am not sure that she could be a very desirable wife to a man in my situation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriage state.”

“Sir, you quite misunderstand me,” said Mrs. Bennet. “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. “Oh! Mr. Bennet, you must come and make Lizzy marry Mr. Collins.”

Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, and fixed them on her face with a calm unconcern.

“Of what are you talking?” said he, when she had finished her speech.

“Of Mr. Collins and Lizzy. Lizzy declares she will not marry Mr. Collins, and Mr. Collins begins to say that he will not marry Lizzy.”

“And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems a hopeless business.”

“Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist upon her marrying him.”

“Call her. She shall hear my opinion.”

Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was called 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. 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.”

Mrs. Bennet 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, “please, allow me to say what I think.”

While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came in. She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who 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 Lizzy, and she will not marry him.”

Charlotte hardly had time to answer, before they were joined by Kitty, who came to tell the same news.

“Aye, there she comes,” said Mrs. Bennet, “I tell you, Miss Lizzy – if you take it into your head – I do not know who will maintain you when your father is dead. I shall not be able to keep you – and so I warn you. I have no pleasure in talking to undutiful children.”

Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kitty followed her.

Chapter 21

The next morning Mr. Collins was also in the state of angry pride. After breakfast, the girls walked to Meryton to inquire if Mr. Wickham were returned. He joined them on their entering the town.

“I found,” said he, “that I had better not meet Mr. Darcy.”

Elizabeth highly approved his forbearance, and they talked a lot. Soon after their return, a letter was delivered to Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield. The envelope contained a sheet of elegant, little paper. Elizabeth saw her sister’s face change as she read it. Jane said:

“This is from Caroline Bingley. The whole party have left Netherfield by this time, and are on their way to town – and without any intention of coming back again.”

Elizabeth saw nothing in it really to lament.

“It is unlucky,” said she, after a short pause, “that you should not be able to see your friends before they leave the country.”

“Caroline decidedly says that nobody will return into Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you. It is evident that her brother comes back no more this winter.”

“Why do you think so? He is his own master.”

“What do you think of this, my dear Lizzy?” said Jane.

“Is it not clear enough? Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you, and wants him to marry Miss Darcy. She follows him to town in hope of keeping him there, and tries to persuade you that he does not care about you.”

Jane shook her head.

“Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me. Miss Bingley, I am sure, is more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother.”

“But if he returns no more this winter… A thousand things may arise in six months!”