第 34 章
伊莉莎白等柯林斯夫婦走了以後，便把她到肯特以來所收到吉英的信，全都拿出來一封封仔細閱讀，好象是為了故意要跟達西做冤家做到底似的。信上並沒有寫什麼真正埋怨的話，既沒有提起過去的事情，也沒有訴說目前的。她素性嫺靜，心腸仁愛，因此她的文筆從來不帶一些陰暗的色彩，總是歡欣鼓舞的心情躍然紙上，可是現在，讀遍了她所有的信，甚至讀遍了她每一封信的字裏行間，也找不出這種歡欣的筆調。伊莉莎白只覺得信上每一句話都流露著不安的心情，因為她這一次是用心精讀的，而上一次她卻讀得很馬虎，所以沒有注意到這種地方。達西先生恬不知恥地誇口說，叫人家受罪是他的拿手好戲，這使她愈發深刻地體會到姐姐的痛苦。想到達西後天就要離開羅新斯，她總算可以稍覺安慰，而更大的安慰是，不到兩個星期，她又可以和吉英在一起了，而且可以用一切感情的力量去幫助她重新振作起精神來。
一想起達西就要離開肯特，便不免記起了他的表兄弟也要跟著他一起走；可是費茨威廉已經表明他自己決沒有什麼意圖，因此，他雖然挺叫人喜歡，她卻不至於為了他而不快活。她正在轉著這種念頭，突然聽到門鈴響，她以為是費茨威廉來了，心頭不由得跳動起來，因為他有一天晚上就是來得很晚的，這回可能是特地來問候她。但是她立刻就知道猜錯了，出乎她的意料，走進屋來的是達西先生，於是她情緒上又是另一種感覺。他立刻匆匆忙忙問她身體好了沒有，又說他是特地來聽她複元的好消息的。她客客氣氣地敷衍了他一下。他坐了幾分鐘，就站起身來，在房間裏踱來踱去。伊莉莎白心裏很奇怪，可是嘴上一言未發。沉默了幾分鐘以後，他帶著激動的神態走到她跟前說：我實在沒有辦法死捱活撐下去了。這怎麼行。我的感情也壓制不住了。請允許我告訴你，我多麼敬慕你，多麼愛你。”
伊莉莎白真是說不出的驚奇。她瞪著眼，紅著臉，滿腹狐疑，閉口不響。他看這情形，便認為她是在慫恿他講下去，於是立刻把目前和以往對她的種種好感全都和盤托出。他說得很動聽，除了傾訴愛情以外，又把其他種種感想也源源本本說出來了。他一方面千言萬語地表示深情密意，但是另一方面卻又說了許許多多傲慢無禮的話。他覺得她出身低微，覺得自己是遷就她，而且家庭方面的種種障礙，往往會使他的見解和他的心願不能相容並存──他這樣熱烈地傾訴，雖然顯得他這次舉動的慎重，卻未必能使他的求婚受到歡迎。
儘管她對他的厭惡之心根深蒂固，她究竟不能對這樣一個男人的一番盛情，漠然無動於中；雖說她的意志不曾有過片刻的動搖，可是她開頭倒也體諒到他將會受到痛苦，因此頗感不安，然而他後來的那些話引起了她的怨恨，她那一片憐惜之心便完全化成了憤怒。不過，她還是竭力鎮定下來，以便等他把話說完，耐心地給他一個回答。未了，他跟她說，他對她的愛情是那麼強烈，儘管他一再努力克服，結果還是克服不了，他又向她表明自己的希望，說是希望她表接受他的求婚。她一下子就看出他說這些話的時候，顯然自認為她毫無問題會給他滿意的回答。他雖然口裏說他自己又怕又急，可是表情上卻是一副萬無一失的樣子。這只有惹起她更加激怒；等他講完話以後，她就紅著臉說：遇到這一類的事情，通常的方式是這樣的：人家對你一片好心好意，你即使不能給以同樣的報答，也得表示一番感激，我現在就得向你表示謝意。可惜我沒有這種感覺。我從來不稀罕你的抬舉，何況你抬舉我也是十分勉強。我從來不願意讓任何人感到痛苦，縱使惹得別人痛苦，也是根本出於無心，而且我希望很快就會事過境遷。你跟我說，以前你顧慮到種種方面，因此沒有能夠向我表明你對我的好感，那麼，現在經過我這番解釋之後，你一定很容易把這種好感克制下來。”
達西先生本是斜倚在壁爐架上，一雙眼睛盯住了她看，聽到她這番話，好象又是氣憤又是驚奇。他氣得臉色鐵青，從五官的每一個部位都看得出他內心的煩惱。他竭力裝出鎮定的樣子，一直等到自以為已經裝象了，然後才開口說話。這片刻的沉默使伊莉莎白心裏非常難受。最後達西才勉強沉住了氣說道：我很榮幸，意得到你這樣一個回答！也許我可以請教你一下，為什麼我竟會遭受到這樣沒有禮貌的拒絕？不過這也無關緊要。”我也可以請問一聲，”她回答道，”為什麼你明明白白存心要觸犯我，侮辱我，嘴上卻偏偏要說什麼為了喜歡我，意違背了你自己的意志，違背了你自己的理性，甚至違背了你自己的性格？要是我果真沒有禮貌，那麼，這還不夠作為我沒有禮貌的理由嗎？可是我還有別的氣惱。你也知道我有的，就算我對你沒有反感，就算我對你毫無芥蒂，甚至就算我對你有好感吧，那麼請你想一想，一個毀了我最親愛的姐姐幸福，甚至永遠毀了她的幸福的人，怎麼會打動我的心去愛他呢？”
達西先生聽了她這些話，臉色大變；不過這種感情的激動，只有一會兒就過去了，他聽著她繼續說下去，一些不想打岔。我有足夠的理由對你懷著惡感。你對待那件事完全無情無義，不論你是出於什麼動機，都叫人無可原諒。說起他們倆的分離，即使不是你一個人造成的，也是你主使的，這你可不敢否認，也不能否認。你使得男方被大家指責為朝三暮四，使女方被大家嘲笑為奢望空想，你叫他們倆受盡了苦痛。”
她說到這裏，只見他完全沒有一點兒悔恨的意思，真使她氣得非同小可。他甚至還假裝出一副不相信的神氣在微笑。你能否認你這樣做過嗎？”她又問了一遍。
他故作鎮靜地回答道：”我不想否認。我的確用心了一切辦法，拆散了我朋友和你姐姐的一段姻緣；我也不否認，我對自己那一次的成績覺得很得意。我對他總算比對我自己多盡了一份力。”
伊莉莎白聽了他這篇文雅的調整詞令，表面上並不願意顯出很注意的樣子。這番話的用意她當然明白，可是再也平息不了她的氣憤。不過，我還不止在這一件事情上面厭惡你，”她繼續說道，”我很早就厭惡你，對你有了成見。幾個月以前聽了韋翰先生說的那些話，我就明白了你的品格。這件事你還有什麼可說的？看你再怎樣來替你自己辯護，把這件事也異想天開地說是為了維護朋友？你又將怎麼樣來顛倒是非，欺世盜名？”
達西先生聽到這裏，臉色變得更厲害了，說話的聲音也不象剛才那麼鎮定，他說：”你對於那位先生的事的確十分關心。”凡是知道他的不幸遭遇的人，誰能不關心他？”他的不幸遭遇！”達西輕蔑地重說了一遍。”是的，他的確太不幸啦。”這都是你一手造成的，”伊莉莎白使勁叫道。”你害得他這樣窮──當然並不是太窮。凡是指定由他享有的利益，你明明知道，卻不肯給他。他正當年輕力壯，應該獨立自主，你卻剝奪了他這種權利。這些事都是你做的，可是人家一提到他的不幸，你還要鄙視和嘲笑。”這就是你對我的看法！”達西一面大聲叫嚷，一面向屋子那頭走去。”你原來把我看成這樣的一個人！謝謝你解釋得這樣周到。這樣看來，我真是罪孽孽深重！不過，”他止住了步，轉過身來對她說：”只怪我老老實實地把我以前一誤再誤、遲疑不決的原因說了出來，所以傷害了你自尊心，否則你也許就不會計較我得罪你的這些地方了。要是我耍一點兒手段，把我內心矛盾掩藏起來，一昧恭維你，叫你相信我無論在理智方面、思想方面、以及種種方面，都是對你懷著無條件的、純潔的愛，那麼，你也許就不會有這些苛刻的責駡了。可惜無論是什麼樣的裝假，我都痛恨。我剛才所說出的這些顧慮，我也並不以為可恥。這些顧慮是自然的，正確的。難道你指望我會為你那些微賤的親戚而歡欣鼓舞嗎？難道你以為，我要是攀上了這麼些社會地位遠不如我的親戚，倒反而會自己慶幸嗎？”
伊莉莎白愈來愈忿怒，然而她還是儘量平心靜氣地說出了下面這段話：達西先生，倘若你有禮貌一些，我拒絕了你以後，也許會覺得過意不去，除此以外，倘若你以為這樣向我表白一下，會在我身上起別的作用，那你可想錯了。”
他聽到這番話，吃了一驚，可是沒有說什麼，於是她又接著說下去：你用盡一切辦法，也不能打動我的心，叫我接受你的求婚。”
他又顯出很驚訝的樣子，他帶著痛苦和詫異的神氣望著她。她繼續說下去：從開頭認識你的時候起，幾乎可以說，從認識你的那一刹那起，你的舉止行動，就使我覺得你十足狂妄自大、自私自利、看不起別人，我對你不滿的原因就在這裏，以後又有了許許多多事情，使我對你深惡痛絕；我還沒有認識你一個月，就覺得像你這樣一個人，哪怕天下男人都死光了，我也不願意嫁給你。”你說得夠了，小姐，我完全理解你的心情，現在我只有對我自己那些顧慮感到羞恥。請原諒我耽擱了你這麼多時間，請允許我極其誠懇地祝你健康和幸福。”
他說了這幾句話，便匆匆走出房間。隔了一忽兒，伊莉莎白就聽到他打開大門走了。她心裏紛亂無比。她不知道如何撐住自己，她非常軟弱無力，便坐在那兒哭了半個鐘頭。她回想到剛才的一幕，越想越覺得奇怪。達西先生竟會向她求婚，他竟會愛上她好幾個月了！竟會那樣地愛她，要和她結婚，不管她有多少缺點，何況她自己的姐姐正是由於這些缺點而受到他的阻撓，不能跟他朋友結婚，何況這些缺點對他至少具有同樣的影響──這真是一件不可思議的事！一個人能在不知不覺中博得別人這樣熱烈的愛慕，也足夠自慰了。可是他的傲慢，他那可惡的傲慢，他居然恬不知恥地招認他自己是怎樣破壞了吉英的好事，他招認的時候雖然並不能自圓其說，可是叫人難以原諒的是他那種自以為是的神氣，還有他提到韋翰先生時那種無動於中的態度，他一點兒也不打算否認對待韋翰的殘酷──一想到這些事，縱使她一時之間也曾因為體諒到他一番戀情而觸動了憐憫的心腸，這時候連絲毫的憐憫也完全給抵消了。
她這樣回腸百轉地左思右想，直到後來聽得咖苔琳夫人的馬車聲，她才感覺到自己這副模樣兒見不得夏綠蒂，便匆匆回到自己房裏去。
Chapter 34
WHEN they were gone, Elizabeth, as if intending to exasperate herself as much as possible against Mr. Darcy, chose for her employment the examination of all the letters which Jane had written to her since her being in Kent. They contained no actual complaint, nor was there any revival of past occurrences, or any communication of present suffering. But in all, and in almost every line of each, there was a want of that cheerfulness which had been used to characterize her style, and which, proceeding from the serenity of a mind at ease with itself, and kindly disposed towards every one, had been scarcely ever clouded. Elizabeth noticed every sentence conveying the idea of uneasiness with an attention which it had hardly received on the first perusal. Mr. Darcy’s shameful boast of what misery he had been able to inflict gave her a keener sense of her sister’s sufferings. It was some consolation to think that his visit to Rosings was to end on the day after the next, and a still greater that in less than a fortnight she should herself be with Jane again, and enabled to contribute to the recovery of her spirits by all that affection could do.
She could not think of Darcy’s leaving Kent without remembering that his cousin was to go with him; but Colonel Fitzwilliam had made it clear that he had no intentions at all, and agreeable as he was, she did not mean to be unhappy about him.
While settling this point, she was suddenly roused by the sound of the door bell, and her spirits were a little fluttered by the idea of its being Colonel Fitzwilliam himself, who had once before called late in the evening, and might now come to enquire particularly after her. But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In an hurried manner he immediately began an enquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up, walked about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began,
“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression. She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement, and the avowal of all that he felt and had long felt for her immediately followed. He spoke well, but there were feelings besides those of the heart to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority — of its being a degradation — of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit.
In spite of her deeply-rooted dislike, she could not be insensible to the compliment of such a man’s affection, and though her intentions did not vary for an instant, she was at first sorry for the pain he was to receive; till, roused to resentment by his subsequent language, she lost all compassion in anger. She tried, however, to compose herself to answer him with patience, when he should have done. He concluded with representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand. As he said this, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favourable answer. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his countenance expressed real security. Such a circumstance could only exasperate farther, and when he ceased, the colour rose into her cheeks, and she said,
“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot — I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to any one. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”
Mr. Darcy, who was leaning against the mantle-piece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips, till he believed himself to have attained it. The pause was to Elizabeth’s feelings dreadful. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,
“And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance.”
“I might as well enquire,” replied she, “why, with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”
As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed colour; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued.
“I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind.”
She paused, and saw with no slight indignation that he was listening with an air which proved him wholly unmoved by any feeling of remorse. He even looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.
“Can you deny that you have done it?” she repeated.
With assumed tranquillity he then replied, “I have no wish of denying that I did every thing in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself.”
Elizabeth disdained the appearance of noticing this civil reflection, but its meaning did not escape, nor was it likely to conciliate, her.
“But it is not merely this affair,” she continued, “on which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place, my opinion of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? or under what misrepresentation, can you here impose upon others?”
“You take an eager interest in that gentleman’s concerns,” said Darcy in a less tranquil tone, and with a heightened colour.
“Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him?”
“His misfortunes!” repeated Darcy contemptuously; “yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed.”
“And of your infliction,” cried Elizabeth with energy. “You have reduced him to his present state of poverty, comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages, which you must know to have been designed for him. You have deprived the best years of his life, of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortunes with contempt and ridicule.”
“And this,” cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, “is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps,” added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, “these offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I with greater policy concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination — by reason, by reflection, by every thing. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”
Elizabeth felt herself growing more angry every moment; yet she tried to the utmost to speak with composure when she said,
“You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.”
She saw him start at this, but he said nothing, and she continued,
“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it.”
Again his astonishment was obvious; and he looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. She went on.
“From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immoveable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”
“You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”
And with these words he hastily left the room, and Elizabeth heard him the next moment open the front door and quit the house.
The tumult of her mind was now painfully great. She knew not how to support herself, and from actual weakness sat down and cried for half an hour. Her astonishment, as she reflected on what had passed, was increased by every review of it. That she should receive an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy! that he should have been in love with her for so many months! so much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections which had made him prevent his friend’s marrying her sister, and which must appear at least with equal force in his own case, was almost incredible! It was gratifying to have inspired unconsciously so strong an affection. But his pride, his abominable pride, his shameless avowal of what he had done with respect to Jane, his unpardonable assurance in acknowledging, though he could not justify it, and the unfeeling manner in which he had mentioned Mr. Wickham, his cruelty towards whom he had not attempted to deny, soon overcame the pity which the consideration of his attachment had for a moment excited.
She continued in very agitating reflections till the sound of Lady Catherine’s carriage made her feel how unequal she was to encounter Charlotte’s observation, and hurried her away to her room.
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