_Characters._
_Lady Catherine de Burgh_, _Elizabeth Bennet._
_N.B._—“Elizabeth’s courage did not fail her. She had heard nothing
of Lady Catherine that spoke her awful from any extraordinary talents
or miraculous virtue, and the mere stateliness of money and rank
she thought she could witness without trepidation.... Her air was
not conciliating, nor was her manner of receiving them ... such
as to make her visitors forget their inferior rank. She was not
rendered formidable by silence; but whatever she said was spoken in
so authoritative a tone as marked her self-importance ... delivering
her opinion on every subject in so decisive a manner as proved that
she was not used to have her judgment controverted.”—_Pride and
Prejudice_, Vol I., Chap. XXIX.
“There was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her (_Elizabeth’s_)
manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody, and Darcy
had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her.”—Vol. I.,
Chap. X.
(_Elizabeth._) “There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear
to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with
every attempt to intimidate me.”—_Pride and Prejudice_, Vol. I.,
Chap. XXXI.
_Scene—The morning-room at Longbourn. The furniture is comfortable,
but a little shabby; it also wears a faded look of gaudiness, and is
arranged in a stiff and formal manner._
_Properties required:—If possible a long French window at the back for
Lady Catherine to enter. If not practicable a door to the L. with a
screen in front of it, behind which the window must be imagined. Door
R._
_Elizabeth._ So all is settled peaceably and amicably in this turbulent
family of ours. Dear Jane has attained her wish at last, and is engaged
to Mr Bingley, and Lydia is married. Lydia, who caused us so much
unspeakable misery but a few weeks back, by eloping with Mr Wickham, is
married, and the Bennets are now acknowledged to be the luckiest family
in the world, though only a little while before we were generally
proved to be marked out by misfortune.
How quickly and easily all this has been arranged, and by whom? By Mr
Darcy, whose character I once so misjudged, whose proposal of marriage
I treated with such scorn, but whom now my heart tells me I sincerely
love and esteem. To-morrow he is to come to see us with Bingley.
Bingley will have eyes for none but Jane. Will Mr Darcy be satisfied
to spend the time with me, or will he have too keen a remembrance
of my refusal when he was staying with Lady Catherine at Rosings?
Good heaven! were she to know what passed between us, what would her
feelings be.
_Going to the window._ I thought I heard the sound of a carriage. Who
can it be? It is too early for visitors, and, besides, I know neither
the servant nor the livery. The horses are post, too. Good Heaven!
it is Lady Catherine de Burgh. What can she want here? She has seen
me, and evidently means to come in through the window. (_Enter Lady
Catherine de Burgh, C. through the French window or from behind the
screen. She bows stiffly to Elizabeth, who curtseys._)
_Lady C. (sitting)._ I hope you are well, Miss Bennet.
_Elizabeth._ Thank you, very well. Allow me to call my mother.
_Lady C._ No, I thank you. It is you I have come all this way to see.
_Elizabeth (surprised)._ I am greatly honoured.
_Lady C._ You have a very small park here.
_Elizabeth (smiling)._ It is certainly not to compare with Rosings,
but, I assure you, it is quite large enough for our use.
_Lady C. (snifs)._ This must be a most inconvenient sitting-room for
the evening in summer; the windows are full west.
_Elizabeth._ We only sit here in the morning. (_Aside._) Heaven! how
could I think her like her nephew.
_Lady C._ You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason
of my journey hither. Your own heart, your own conscience must tell you
why I come.
_Elizabeth (with unaffected astonishment)._ Indeed, you are mistaken,
madam, I have not been at all able to account for the honour of seeing
you here.
_Lady C. (angrily)._ Miss Bennet, you ought to know I am not to be
trifled with. But, however insincere _you_ may choose to be, you
shall not find _me_ so. My character has ever been celebrated for its
sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this I shall
certainly not depart from it. A report of a most alarming nature
reached me two days ago. I was told that not only your elder sister was
on the point of being most advantageously married, but that _you_, that
Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards
united to my nephew—my own nephew—Mr Darcy. Though I _knew_ it must
be a scandalous falsehood—though I would not injure him so much as to
suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on setting off
for this place, that I might make my sentiments known to you.
_Elizabeth (surprised and angry)._ If you believed it impossible to be
true, I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your
ladyship propose by it?
_Lady C._ At once to insist upon having such a report universally
contradicted.
_Elizabeth (coolly)._ Your coming to Longbourn to see me will be rather
a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence.
_Lady C._ _If!_ do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not
been industriously circulated by yourselves. Do you not know that such
a report is spread abroad?
_Elizabeth._ I never heard that it was.
_Lady C._ And can you likewise declare that there is no _foundation_
for it?
_Elizabeth._ I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your
ladyship. _You_ may ask questions, which _I_ shall not choose to answer.
_Lady C._ This is not to be borne! Miss Bennet, I insist on being
satisfied. Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?
_Elizabeth._ Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.
_Lady C._ It ought to be so; it must be so, while he retains the use
of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of
infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all
his family. You may have drawn him in.
_Elizabeth._ If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.
_Lady C._ Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed
to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in
the world, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.
_Elizabeth._ But you are not entitled to know _mine_; nor will such
behaviour as this ever induce me to be explicit.
_Lady C._ Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have
the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never; Mr Darcy is
engaged to _my daughter._ Now what have you to say?
_Elizabeth (quietly)._ Only this, that if it is so, you can have no
reason to suppose he will make an offer to me.
_Lady C._ The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their
infancy they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite
wish of _his_ mother as well as of hers. While in their cradles, we
planned the union, and now, at the moment when the wishes of both
sisters would be accomplished, is their marriage to be prevented by
a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and
wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of
his friends—to his tacit engagement with Miss de Burgh? Are you lost
to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say
that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?
_Elizabeth._ Yes! and I had heard it before. But what is that to me?
If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall
certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt
wished him to marry Miss de Burgh. You both did as much as you could,
in planning the marriage; its completion depended on others. If Mr
Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination confined to his cousin, why
is not he to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not
I accept him?
_Lady C._ Because honour, decorum, prudence—nay, _interest_, forbid
it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by any
of his family or friends if you wilfully act against the inclinations
of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone
connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace; your name will
never be mentioned by any of us.
_Elizabeth._ These are heavy misfortunes indeed. But the wife of Mr
Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily
attached to her situation that she could, upon the whole, have no cause
to repine.
_Lady C._ Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you!—But you
are to understand me, Miss Bennet; I came here with the determined
resolution of carrying my purpose, nor will I be dissuaded from it. I
have not been used to submit to any person’s whims. I have not been in
the habit of brooking disappointment.
_Elizabeth._ _That_ will make your ladyship’s situation at present more
pitiable, but it will have no effect on _me._
_Lady C._ I will not be interrupted! Hear me in silence. My daughter
and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the
maternal side, from the same noble line; and on the father’s, from
respectable, honourable, and ancient, though untitled families. Their
fortune on both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by
the voice of every member of their respective houses; and what is to
divide them?—the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family,
connections, or fortune! Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall
not be! If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to
quit the sphere in which you have been brought up.
_Elizabeth._ In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as
quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman’s daughter:
so far we are equal.
_Lady C._ True, you are a gentleman’s daughter; but who was your
mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of
their condition.
_Elizabeth._ Whatever my connections may be, if your nephew does not
object to them, they can be nothing to you.
_Lady C._ Tell me, once for all, are you engaged to him?
_Elizabeth (after slight deliberation)._ I am not.
_Lady C. (pleased)._ Ah! and will you promise me never to enter into
such an engagement?
_Elizabeth._ I will make no promise of the kind.
_Lady C._ Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. I expected to find
a more reasonable young woman. But do not deceive yourself into a
belief that I will ever recede. I shall not go away till you have given
me the assurance I require.
_Elizabeth._ And I certainly _never_ shall give it. I am not to be
intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship
wants Mr Darcy to marry your daughter; but would my giving you your
wished-for promise make _their_ marriage at all more probable?
supposing him to be attached to me, would _my_ refusing to accept
his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to say,
Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have supported this
extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application
was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character if you think I
can be worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your nephew
might approve of your interference in _his_ affairs I cannot tell, but
you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg,
therefore, to be importuned no further on the subject.
_Lady C._ Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. To all
the objections I have already urged, I have still another to add. I
am no stranger to the particulars of your youngest sister’s infamous
elopement. I know it all; that the young man’s marrying her was a
patched-up business—at the expense of your father and uncle. And is
such a girl to be my nephew’s sister? Heaven and earth!—of what are
you thinking?
_Elizabeth (rising angrily)._ You can now have nothing further to say.
You have insulted me in every possible method. I must beg to be allowed
to leave you. (_Curtseys._)
_Lady C. (rising, highly incensed)._ Stay, Miss Bennet. You have no
regard then for the honour and credit of my nephew! Unfeeling, selfish
girl! do you not consider that a connection with you must disgrace him
in the eyes of everybody.
_Elizabeth._ Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say—you know my
sentiments.
_Lady C._ You are then resolved to have him?
_Elizabeth._ I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in
that manner which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness,
without reference to _you_, or to any person so wholly unconnected with
me.
_Lady C._ It is well! You refuse then to oblige me. You refuse to obey
the claims of duty, honour, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin
him in the opinion of all his friends, and make him the contempt of the
world.
_Elizabeth._ Neither duty, nor honour, nor gratitude, has any possible
claim on me in the present instance. No principle of either would
be violated by my marriage with Mr Darcy. And with regard to the
resentment of his family or the indignation of the world, if the former
_were_ excited by his marrying me, it would not give me one moment’s
concern—and the world in general would have too much sense to join in
the scorn.
_Lady C._ And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve!
Very well, I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Miss Bennet,
that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you. I hoped
to find you reasonable; but depend upon it, I will carry my point.
_Elizabeth._ Good-day to you, Lady Catherine.
_Lady C. (at the window or screen)._ I take no leave of you, Miss
Bennet. I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such
attention. I am most seriously displeased. (_Exit Lady Catherine._)
_Elizabeth._ I could tell her truthfully I am _not_ engaged to Mr
Darcy, but she little guessed the rest. Yet I do not think he can
be quite indifferent to me, or surely she would not have taken the
trouble—If he comes to-morrow with Bingley, as he arranged, I shall
dare to hope (_sighs happily_). Perhaps I, too, may learn to think the
Bennet family lucky in spite of Lady Catherine de Burgh.
[_Exit._
_End of Scene._