JANE AUSTEN 8 страница

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 Bingley's regard, and said all

in her power to heighten her confidence in it. On their being

joined by Mr. Bingley 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, "by a singular 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 this 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 intreat 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 acquaintance. -- Mr. 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 of your excellent judgment 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

clergy; for 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 maintained. You 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 with a low 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 all, and 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 bestow a favour 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 capable, under 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 other; and

deeply was she vexed to find that her mother was talking to

that one person (Lady Lucas) freely, openly, and of nothing

else but of her expectation that Jane would be soon 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

etiquette but no one was less likely than Mrs. Bennet to find

comfort in staying at 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 Mr.

Darcy, who sat opposite to them. Her mother only scolded her

for being nonsensical.

 

"What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that 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 to you to offend Mr. Darcy? -- You will never recommend

yourself to his friend by so doing."

 

Nothing that she could say, however, had any influence. Her

mother would talk of her views in the same intelligible tone.

Elizabeth blushed and blushed again with shame and vexation.

She 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

revive. But 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 her, and

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

affected. -- Elizabeth 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 impenetrably 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 of a

clergyman. -- 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 do. -- In 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 dwelling, which he

cannot be excused from making as comfortable as possible. And

I do not think it of light importance that he should have

attentive and conciliatory manners towards every body,

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 any body connected with the family." And with a bow to

Mr. Darcy, he 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

teazed by Mr. Collins, who continued most perseveringly by her

side, and though he could not prevail with 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 dancing, he 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 Mr. Collins's conversation to herself.

 

She was at least free from the offence of Mr. Darcy's farther

notice; though often standing within a very 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

carriages a quarter of an hour after every body 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 mouths except 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 a 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 other. Elizabeth

preserved as steady a silence as either Mrs. Hurst or Miss

Bingley; and even Lydia was to 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 particularly to Mr. Bingley,

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

invitation. Bingley was all grateful pleasure, and he readily

engaged for taking the earliest opportunity of waiting on her,

after his return from London, whither he was obliged to go the

next day for a short time.

 

Mrs. Bennet was perfectly satisfied; and 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 XIX (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 in a very orderly manner, with all the observances

which he supposed a regular 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 any thing but a blush of

surprise, Mrs. Bennet instantly answered,

 

"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 Ma'am, do not go. -- I beg you will not go. -- Mr.

Collins must excuse me. -- He can have nothing to say to me

that any body need not hear. I am going away myself."

 

"No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. -- I desire you will stay where

you are." -- And upon Elizabeth's seeming really, with vexed

and embarrassed looks, about to escape, she added, "Lizzy,

I _insist_ upon 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 possible, she 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 Elizabeth, that 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 will 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 farther, and he continued:

 

"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 it will add very greatly to my happiness; 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. Twice

has she condescended to give me her opinion (unasked too!) on

this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before

I left Hunsford -- between our pools at quadrille, while

Mrs. Jenkinson was arranging Miss de Bourgh's foot-stool, that

she said, ``Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman like you

must marry. -- Chuse properly, chuse 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 cousin, that I do not

reckon the notice and kindness of Lady Catherine de Bourgh as

among the least of the advantages in my power to offer. You

will find her manners beyond any thing 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 matrimony; it remains to be told why my views were

directed to Longbourn instead of my own neighbourhood, where I

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 chuse

a wife from among his daughters, that the loss to them might be

as little as possible, when the melancholy event takes place --

which, however, as 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 4 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 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," she cried. "You forget that I have

made no answer. Let me do it without farther 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 decline them."

 

"I am not now to learn," replied Mr. Collins, 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 accept,

when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the

refusal is repeated a second or even a 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 rather an

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

that I am the last woman in the world who would 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 that when I have the honour of seeing her again I shall

speak in the highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other

amiable qualifications."

 

"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

family, and may take possession of Longbourn estate whenever it

falls, without 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 not Mr.

Collins thus addressed her,

 

"When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this

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 I 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 may 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

desirable. My situation in life, my connections with the

family of De Bourgh, and my relationship to your own, it into

farther 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 chuse 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 pretension 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