Chapter 20

by Jane Austen

　　Mr. Collins was not left long to the silent contemplation of hissuccessful love; for Mrs. Bennet, having dawdled about in thevestibule to watch for the end of the conference, no sooner sawElizabeth open the door and with quick step pass her towardsthe staircase, than she entered the breakfast-room, andcongratulated both him and herself in warm terms on the happyprospect or their nearer connection. Mr. Collins received andreturned these felicitations with equal pleasure, and thenproceeded to relate the particulars of their interview, with theresult of which he trusted he had every reason to be satisfied,since the refusal which his cousin had steadfastly given himwould naturally flow from her bashful modesty and the genuinedelicacy of her character.This information, however, startled Mrs. Bennet; she wouldhave been glad to be equally satisfied that her daughter hadmeant to encourage him by protesting against his proposals, butshe dared not believe it, and could not help saying so."But, depend upon it, Mr. Collins," she added, "that Lizzy shallbe brought to reason. I will speak to her about it directly. Sheis a very headstrong, foolish girl, and does not know her owninterest 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 know not whethershe would altogether be a very desirable wife to a man in mysituation, who naturally looks for happiness in the marriagestate. If therefore she actually persists in rejecting my suit,perhaps it were better not to force her into accepting me,because if liable to such defects of temper, she could notcontribute much to my felicity.""Sir, you quite misunderstand me," said Mrs. Bennet, alarmed."Lizzy is only headstrong in such matters as these. In everythingelse she is as good-natured a girl as ever lived. I will go directlyto Mr. Bennet, and we shall very soon settle it with her, I amsure."She would not give him time to reply, but hurrying instantly toher 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 vowsshe will not have him, and if you do not make haste he willchange his mind and not have her."Mr. Bennet raised his eyes from his book as she entered, andfixed them on her face with a calm unconcern which was not inthe least altered by her communication."I have not the pleasure of understanding you," said he, whenshe 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 haveLizzy.""And what am I to do on the occasion? It seems an hopelessbusiness.""Speak to Lizzy about it yourself. Tell her that you insist uponher marrying him.""Let her be called down. She shall hear my opinion."Mrs. Bennet rang the bell, and Miss Elizabeth was summoned tothe library."Come here, child," cried her father as she appeared. "I havesent for you on an affair of importance. I understand that Mr.Collins has made you an offer of marriage. Is it true?" Elizabethreplied that it was. "Very well-- and this offer of marriage youhave refused?""I have, sir.""Very well. We now come to the point. Your mother insistsupon 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 dayyou must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother willnever see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I willnever see you again if you do."Elizabeth could not but smile at such a conclusion of such abeginning, but Mrs. Bennet, who had persuaded herself that herhusband regarded the affair as she wished, was excessivelydisappointed."What do you mean, Mr. Bennet, in talking this way? Youpromised me to insist upon her marrying him.""My dear," replied her husband, "I have two small favours torequest. First, that you will allow me the free use of myunderstanding on the present occasion; and secondly, of myroom. I shall be glad to have the library to myself as soon asmay be."Not yet, however, in spite of her disappointment in her husband,did Mrs. Bennet give up the point. She talked to Elizabeth againand again; coaxed and threatened her by turns. She endeavouredto secure Jane in her interest; but Jane, with all possiblemildness, declined interfering; and Elizabeth, sometimes withreal earnestness, and sometimes with playful gaiety, replied toher attacks. Though her manner varied, however, herdetermination never did.Mr. Collins, meanwhile, was meditating in solitude on what hadpassed. He thought too well of himself to comprehend on whatmotives his cousin could refuse him; and though his pride washurt, he suffered in no other way. His regard for her was quiteimaginary; and the possibility of her deserving her mother'sreproach prevented his feeling any regret.While the family were in this confusion, Charlotte Lucas came tospend 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 arecome, for there is such fun here! What do you think hashappened this morning? Mr. Collins has made an offer to Lizzy,and she will not have him."Charlotte hardly had time to answer, before they were joined byKitty, who came to tell the same news; and no sooner had theyentered the breakfast-room, where Mrs. Bennet was alone, thanshe likewise began on the subject, calling on Miss Lucas for hercompassion, and entreating her to persuade her friend Lizzy tocomply with the wishes of all her family. "Pray do, my dearMiss Lucas," she added in a melancholy tone, "for nobody is onmy side, nobody takes part with me. I am cruelly used, nobodyfeels for my poor nerves."Charlotte's reply was spared by the entrance of Jane andElizabeth."Aye, there she comes," continued Mrs. Bennet, "looking asunconcerned as may be, and caring no more for us than if wewere at York, provided she can have her own way. But I tellyou, Miss Lizzy-- if you take it into your head to go on refusingevery offer of marriage in this way, you will never get a husbandat all-- and I am sure I do not know who is to maintain youwhen 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. Itold you in the library, you know, that I should never speak toyou again, and you will find me as good as my word. I have nopleasure in talking to undutiful children. Not that I have muchpleasure, indeed, in talking to anybody. People who suffer as Ido from nervous complaints can have no great inclination fortalking. Nobody 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 thatany attempt to reason with her or soothe her would onlyincrease the irritation. She talked on, therefore, withoutinterruption from any of them, till they were joined by Mr.Collins, who entered the room with an air more stately thanusual, and on perceiving whom, she said to the girls, "Now, I doinsist upon it, that you, all of you, hold your tongues, and let meand Mr. Collins have a little conversation together."Elizabeth passed quietly out of the room, Jane and Kittyfollowed, but Lydia stood her ground, determined to hear all shecould; 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 thewindow 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 thispoint. Far be it from me," he presently continued, in a voice thatmarked his displeasure, "to resent the behaviour of your daughter.Resignation to inevitable evils is the evil duty of us all; thepeculiar duty of a young man who has been so fortunate as Ihave been in early preferment; and I trust I am resigned.Perhaps not the less so from feeling a doubt of my positivehappiness had my fair cousin honoured me with her hand; for Ihave often observed that resignation is never so perfect as whenthe blessing denied begins to lose somewhat of its value in ourestimation. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing anydisrespect to your family, my dear madam, by thus withdrawingmy pretensions to your daughter's favour, without having paidyourself and Mr. Bennet to compliment of requesting you tointerpose your authority in my behalf. My conduct may, I fear,be objectionable in having accepted my dismission from yourdaughter's lips instead of your own. But we are all liable toerror. I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. Myobject has been to secure an amiable companion for myself, withdue consideration for the advantage of all your family, and if mymanner has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave toapologise."