第 43 章 (上)
他们坐着车子一直向前去。彭伯里的树林一出现在眼前，伊莉莎白就有些心慌；等到走进了庄园，她更加心神不定。
花园很大，只见里边高阜低洼，气象万千。他们拣一个最低的地方走进了园，在一座深邃辽阔的美丽的树林里坐着车子走了好久。
伊莉莎白满怀感触，无心说话，可是看到了每一处、每一角的美景，她都叹赏不已。他们沿着上坡路慢慢儿走了半英里光景，最后来到了一个相当高的山坡上，这也就是树林子尽头的地方，彭伯里大厦马上映入眼帘。房子在山谷那边，有一条相当陡斜的路曲曲折折地通到谷中。这是一幢很大很漂亮的石头建筑物，屹立在高垄上，屋子后面枕着一连片树林茂密的高高的小山冈；屋前一泓颇有天然情趣的溪流正在涨潮，没有一丝一毫人工的痕迹。两岸的点缀既不呆板，也不做作。伊莉莎白高兴极了。她从来不曾看到过一个比这里更富于自然情趣的地方，也没有见过任何地方的自然之美能象这儿一样的不受到庸俗的沾损。大家都热烈地赞赏不已，伊莉莎白顿时不禁觉得：在彭伯里当个主妇也还不错吧。他们下了山坡，过了桥，一直驶到大厦门前，欣赏那附近一带的景物，伊莉莎白这时候不免又起了一阵疑惧，生怕闯见主人。她担心旅馆里的侍女弄错了。他们请求进去参观，立刻被让进客厅；大家都在等着管家奶奶，这时候伊莉莎白方才想起身在何处。
管家奶奶来了，是一个态度端庄的老妇人，远不如她们想像中那么有丰姿，可是礼貌的周到倒出乎她的想像。他们跟着她走进了餐室。那是一间宽敞舒适的大屋子，布置得很精致。伊莉莎白稍许看了一下，便走到窗口欣赏风景。他们望着刚才下来的那座小山，只见丛林密布，从远处望去益发显得陡峭，真是个美丽的地方。处处都收拾得很美观。她纵目四望，只见一弯河道，林木夹岸，山谷蜿蜒曲折，真看得她心旷神怡。他们再走到别的房间里去看，每换一个房间，景致总会两样，可是不管你走到哪个视窗，都自有秀色可餐。一个个房间都高大美观，家俱陈设也和主人的身份颇为相称，既不俗气，又不过分侈丽，比起罗新斯来，可以说是豪华不足，风雅有余，伊莉莎白看了，很佩服主人的情趣。她心里想：”我差一点就做了这儿的主妇呢！这些房间也许早就让我走熟了！我非但不必以一个陌生人的身份来参观，而且还可以当作自己的住宅来受用，把舅父母当做贵客欢迎。可是不行，”她忽然想了起来，”这是万万办不到的事：那时候我就见不到舅父母了，他决不会允许我邀他们来。”
她幸亏想起了这一点，才没有后悔当初的事。
她真想问问这位管家奶奶，主人是否真不在家，可是她没有勇气，只得作罢。不过她舅父终于代她问出了这一句话，使她大为慌张，连忙别转头去，只听见雷诺奶奶回答道，他的确不在家。接着又说，”可是明天会回家，还要带来许多朋友。”伊莉莎白听了真高兴，幸亏他们没有迟一天到这儿来。
她的舅母叫她去看一张画像。她走近前去，看见那是韦翰的肖像，和另外几张小型画像夹在一起，挂在壁炉架的上方。舅母笑嘻嘻地问她觉得好不好。管家奶奶走过来说，画像上这位年轻人是老主人的账房的儿子，由老主人一手把他栽培起来。她又说道：
”他现在到军队里去了，我怕他已经变得很浪荡了。”
嘉丁纳太太笑吟吟地对她外甥女儿望了一眼，可是伊莉莎白实在笑不出来。
雷诺奶奶指着另一张画像说，”这就是我的小主人，画得象极了。跟那一张是同时画的，大约有八年了。”
嘉丁纳太太望着那张画像说：”我常常听人家说，你的主人堂堂一表人材，他这张脸蛋的确漂亮。……可是，丽萃，你倒说说看，画得象不象。”
雷诺奶奶听到伊莉莎白跟她主人相熟，便好象益发敬重她。
”这位小姐原来跟达西先生相熟？”
伊莉莎白脸红了，只得说：”不太熟。”
”你觉得他是位很漂亮的少爷吗，小姐？”
”是的，很漂亮。”
”我敢说，我没见过这样漂亮的人；楼上画室里还有一张他的画像，比这张大，画得也比这张好。老主人生前最喜爱这间屋子，这些画像的摆法，也还是照从前的老样子。他很喜欢这些小型画像。”
伊莉莎白这才明白为什么韦翰先生的像也放在一起。
雷诺奶奶接着又指给他们看达西小姐的一张画像，那还是她八岁的时候画的。
”达西小姐也跟她哥哥一样漂亮吗？”嘉丁纳先生问道。
”噢，那还用说……从来没有过这样漂亮的小姐，又那么多才多艺！她成天弹琴唱歌。隔壁的房间里就是刚刚替她买来的一架钢琴，那是我主人给她的礼物，她明天会跟他一块儿回来。”
那位管家奶奶看见嘉丁纳先生为人那么随和，便跟他有问有答。雷诺奶奶非常乐意谈到她主人兄妹俩，这或者是由于为他们感到骄傲，或者是由于和他们交情深厚。
”你主人每年在彭伯里待的日子多吗？”
”并没有我所盼望的那么多，先生，他每年大概可以在这儿待上半年；达西小姐总是在这儿歇夏。”
伊莉莎白心想：”除非到拉姆斯盖特去就不来了。”
”要是你主人结了婚，你见到他的时候就会多些。”
”是的，先生；不过我不知道这件事几时才能如愿。我也不知道哪家小姐配得上他。”
嘉丁纳夫妇都笑了。伊莉莎白不由得说，”你会这样想，真使他太有面子了。”
管家奶奶说：”我说的全是真话，认识他的人都是这样说，”伊莉莎白觉得这话实在讲得有些过分。只听得那管家奶奶又说道：”我一辈子没听过他一句重话，从他四岁起，我就跟他在一起了。”伊莉莎白听得更是惊奇。
这句褒奖的话说得最出人意料，也叫她最难想像。她早就断定达西是个脾气不好的人，今日乍听此话，不禁引起了她深切的注意。她很想再多听一些。幸喜她舅舅又开口说道：
”当得起这样恭维的人，实在没有几个。你真是运气好，碰上了这样一个好主人。”
”你真说得是，先生，我自己也知道运气好。我就是走遍天下，再也不会碰到一个更好的主人。我常说，小时候脾气好，长大了脾气也会好；他从小就是个脾气最乖、肚量最大的孩子。”
伊莉莎白禁不住瞪起眼来看她。她心里想：”达西当真是这样一个人吗？”
”他父亲是个了不起的人，”嘉丁纳太太说。
”太太，你说得是，他的确是个了不起的人；他独生子完全像他一样……也像他那样体贴穷苦人。”
伊莉莎白一直听下去，先是奇怪，继而怀疑，最后又极想再多听一些，可是雷诺奶奶再也想不出别的话来引起她的兴趣。她谈到画像，谈到房间大小，谈到家俱的价格，可是她都不爱听。嘉丁纳先生觉得，这个管家奶奶所以要过甚其辞地夸奖她自己的主人，无非是出于家人的偏见，这倒也使他听得很有趣，于是马上又谈到这个话题上来了。她一面起劲地谈到他的许多优点，一面领着他们走上大楼梯。
”他是个开明的庄主，又是个最好的主人；”她说，”他不像目前一般撒野的青年，一心只为自己打算。没有一个佃户或佣人不称赞他。有些人说他傲慢；可是我从来没看到过他有哪一点傲慢的地方。据我猜想，他只是不像一般青年人那样爱说话罢了。”
”他被你说得多么可爱！”伊莉莎白想道。
她舅母一边走，一边轻轻地说：”只听到说他的好话，可是他对待我们那位可怜的朋友却是那种样子，好像与事实不大符合。”
”我们可能是受到蒙蔽了。”
”这不大可能；我们的根据太可靠了。”
他们走到楼上那个宽敞的穿堂，就给领进一间漂亮的起坐间，这起坐间新近才布置起来，比楼下的许多房间还要精致和清新，据说那是刚刚收拾起来专供达西小姐享用的，因为去年她在彭伯里看中了这间屋子。
”他千真万确是一个好哥哥，”伊莉莎白一面说，一面走到一个窗户跟前。
雷诺奶奶估计达西小姐一走进这间屋子，将会怎样高兴。她说：”他一向就是这样，凡是能使他妹妹高兴的事情，他马上办到。他从来没有一桩事不依她。”
剩下来只有画室和两三间主要的寝室要指给他们看了。
画室里陈列着许多优美的油画，可惜伊莉莎白对艺术方面完全是外行，但觉这些画好象在楼下都已经看到过，于是她宁可掉过头去看看达西小姐所画的几张粉笔画，因为这些画的题材一般都比较耐人寻味，而且比较容易看得懂。
画室里都是家族的画像，陌生人看了不会感到兴趣。伊莉莎白走来走去，专门去找那个面熟的人的画像；她终于看到了有张画像非常像达西先生，只见他脸上的笑容正像他从前看起来的时候那种笑容。她在这幅画像跟前站了几分钟，欣赏得出了神，临出画室之前，又走回去看了一下。雷诺奶奶告诉他们说，这张画像还是他父亲在世的时候画的。
伊莉莎白不禁对画里那个人立刻起了一阵亲切之感，即使从前她跟他见面最多的时候，她对他也从来没有过这种感觉。我们不应当小看了雷诺奶奶对她主人的这种称赞。什么样的称赞会比一个聪明的下人的称赞更来得宝贵呢？她认为他无论是作为一个兄长，一个庄主，一个家主，都一手操纵着多少人的幸福；他能够给人家多少快乐，又能够给人家多少痛苦；他可以行多少善，又可以作多少恶。那个管家奶奶所提出的每一件事情，都足心说明他品格的优良。她站在他的画像面前只觉得他一双眼睛在盯着她看，她不由得想起了他对她的钟情，于是一阵从来没有过的感激之情油然而生，她一记起他钟情的殷切，便不再去计较他求爱的唐突了。
凡是可以公开参观的地方，他们都走遍了，然后走下楼来，告别了管家奶奶，管家奶奶便吩咐一个园丁在大厅门口迎接他们。
他们穿过草地，走向河边，伊莉莎白这时候又掉过头来看了一直，舅父母也都停住了脚步，哪知道她舅舅正想估量一下这房子的建筑年代，忽然看到屋主人从一条通往马厩的大路上走了过来。
Chapter 43 (part 1)
ELIZABETH, as they drove along, watched for the first appearance of Pemberley Woods with some perturbation; and when at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter.
The park was very large, and contained great variety of ground. They entered it in one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood, stretching over a wide extent.
Elizabeth’s mind was too full for conversation, but she saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. They gradually ascended for half a mile, and then found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence, where the wood ceased, and the eye was instantly caught by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley, into which the road, with some abruptness, wound. It was a large, handsome, stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills; — and in front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal, nor falsely adorned. Elizabeth was delighted. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. They were all of them warm in their admiration; and at that moment she felt that to be mistress of Pemberley might be something!
They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and drove to the door; and, while examining the nearer aspect of the house, all her apprehensions of meeting its owner returned. She dreaded lest the chambermaid had been mistaken. On applying to see the place, they were admitted into the hall; and Elizabeth, as they waited for the housekeeper, had leisure to wonder at her being where she was.
The housekeeper came; a respectable-looking, elderly woman, much less fine, and more civil, than she had any notion of finding her. They followed her into the dining-parlour. It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after slightly surveying it, went to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, from which they had descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was good; and she looked on the whole scene — the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it — with delight. As they passed into other rooms, these objects were taking different positions; but from every window there were beauties to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; but Elizabeth saw, with admiration of his taste, that it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine; with less of splendor, and more real elegance, than the furniture of Rosings.
“And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress! With these rooms I might now have been familiarly acquainted! Instead of viewing them as a stranger, I might have rejoiced in them as my own, and welcomed to them as visitors my uncle and aunt. — But no,” — recollecting herself, — “that could never be: my uncle and aunt would have been lost to me: I should not have been allowed to invite them.” This was a lucky recollection — it saved her from something like regret.
She longed to enquire of the housekeeper whether her master were really absent, but had not courage for it. At length, however, the question was asked by her uncle; and she turned away with alarm, while Mrs. Reynolds replied that he was, adding, “but we expect him tomorrow, with a large party of friends.” How rejoiced was Elizabeth that their own journey had not by any circumstance been delayed a day!
Her aunt now called her to look at a picture. She approached, and saw the likeness of Mr. Wickham suspended, amongst several other miniatures, over the mantlepiece. Her aunt asked her, smilingly, how she liked it. The housekeeper came forward, and told them it was the picture of a young gentleman, the son of her late master’s steward, who had been brought up by him at his own expence. — “He is now gone into the army,” she added, “but I am afraid he has turned out very wild.”
Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece with a smile, but Elizabeth could not return it.
“And that,” said Mrs. Reynolds, pointing to another of the miniatures, “is my master — and very like him. It was drawn at the same time as the other — about eight years ago.”
“I have heard much of your master’s fine person,” said Mrs. Gardiner, looking at the picture; “it is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not.”
Mrs. Reynolds’s respect for Elizabeth seemed to increase on this intimation of her knowing her master.
“Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth coloured, and said — “A little.”
“And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, Ma’am?”
“Yes, very handsome.”
“I am sure I know none so handsome; but in the gallery up stairs you will see a finer, larger picture of him than this. This room was my late master’s favourite room, and these miniatures are just as they used to be then. He was very fond of them.”
This accounted to Elizabeth for Mr. Wickham’s being among them.
Mrs. Reynolds then directed their attention to one of Miss Darcy, drawn when she was only eight years old.
“And is Miss Darcy as handsome as her brother?” said Mr. Gardiner.
“Oh! yes — the handsomest young lady that ever was seen; and so accomplished! — She plays and sings all day long. In the next room is a new instrument just come down for her — a present from my master; she comes here to-morrow with him.”
Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks; Mrs. Reynolds, either from pride or attachment, had evidently great pleasure in talking of her master and his sister.
“Is your master much at Pemberley in the course of the year?”
“Not so much as I could wish, Sir; but I dare say he may spend half his time here; and Miss Darcy is always down for the summer months.”
“Except,” thought Elizabeth, “when she goes to Ramsgate.”
“If your master would marry, you might see more of him.”
“Yes, Sir; but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him.”
Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled. Elizabeth could not help saying, “It is very much to his credit, I am sure, that you should think so.”
“I say no more than the truth, and what every body will say that knows him,” replied the other. Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far; and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added, “I have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old.”
This was praise, of all others most extraordinary, most opposite to her ideas. That he was not a good tempered man had been her firmest opinion. Her keenest attention was awakened; she longed to hear more, and was grateful to her uncle for saying,
“There are very few people of whom so much can be said. You are lucky in having such a master.”
“Yes, Sir, I know I am. If I was to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always observed that they who are good-natured when children are good-natured when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted, boy in the world.”
Elizabeth almost stared at her. — “Can this be Mr. Darcy!” thought she.
“His father was an excellent man,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“Yes, Ma’am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him — just as affable to the poor.”
Elizabeth listened, wondered, doubted, and was impatient for more. Mrs. Reynolds could interest her on no other point. She related the subject of the pictures, the dimensions of the rooms, and the price of the furniture, in vain. Mr. Gardiner, highly amused by the kind of family prejudice to which he attributed her excessive commendation of her master, soon led again to the subject; and she dwelt with energy on his many merits, as they proceeded together up the great staircase.
“He is the best landlord, and the best master,” said she, “that ever lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants but what will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw any thing of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.”
“In what an amiable light does this place him!” thought Elizabeth.
“This fine account of him,” whispered her aunt, as they walked, “is not quite consistent with his behaviour to our poor friend.”
“Perhaps we might be deceived.”
“That is not very likely; our authority was too good.”
On reaching the spacious lobby above, they were shewn into a very pretty sitting-room, lately fitted up with greater elegance and lightness than the apartments below; and were informed that it was but just done to give pleasure to Miss Darcy, who had taken a liking to the room when last at Pemberley.
“He is certainly a good brother,” said Elizabeth, as she walked towards one of the windows.
Mrs. Reynolds anticipated Miss Darcy’s delight when she should enter the room. “And this is always the way with him,” she added. — “Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her.”
The picture gallery, and two or three of the principal bedrooms, were all that remained to be shewn. In the former were many good paintings; but Elizabeth knew nothing of the art; and from such as had been already visible below, she had willingly turned to look at some drawings of Miss Darcy’s, in crayons, whose subjects were usually more interesting, and also more intelligible.
In the gallery there were many family portraits, but they could have little to fix the attention of a stranger. Elizabeth walked on in quest of the only face whose features would be known to her. At last it arrested her — and she beheld a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy, with such a smile over the face as she remembered to have sometimes seen, when he looked at her. She stood several minutes before the picture in earnest contemplation, and returned to it again before they quitted the gallery. Mrs. Reynolds informed them that it had been taken in his father’s life time.
There was certainly at this moment, in Elizabeth’s mind, a more gentle sensation towards the original than she had ever felt in the height of their acquaintance. The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs. Reynolds was of no trifling nature. What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant? As a brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people’s happiness were in his guardianship! — How much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! — How much of good or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she stood before the canvas, on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression.
When all of the house that was open to general inspection had been seen, they returned down stairs, and, taking leave of the housekeeper, were consigned over to the gardener, who met them at the hall door.
As they walked across the lawn towards the river, Elizabeth turned back to look again; her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables.
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