Chapter 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 anything but a blush of surprise, Mrs.
Bennet answered instantly, "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 upstairs." And, gathering her work
together, she was hastening away, when Elizabeth called out: "Dear
madam, do not go. I beg you will not go. Mr. Collins must excuse
me. He can have nothing to say to me that anybody need not hear. I
am going away myself."
"No, no, nonsense, Lizzy. I desire
you to 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 and 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 would 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 further, 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 that 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
footstool, that she said, 'Mr. Collins, you must marry. A clergyman
like you must marry. Choose properly, choose 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
anything 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 towards Longbourn instead of my own
neighbourhood, where I can 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
choose 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
but 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 four 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 further 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 to
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 a rather 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 could
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
when I have the honour of seeing her again, I shall speak in the
very highest terms of your modesty, economy, and other amiable
qualification." "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 you 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 Mr. Collins not thus addressed
her: "When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on the
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 to 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, are
circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into
further 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 choose 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
pretensions whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in
tormenting a respect able 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 gallantry; "and I am persuaded
that when sanctioned by the express authority of both your
excellent parents, my proposals will not fail of being acceptable."
To such perseverance in wilful self-deception Elizabeth would make
no reply, and immediately and in silence withdrew, determined, that
if he persisted in considering her repeated refusals as flattering
encouragement, to apply to her father, whose negative might be
uttered in such a manner as to be decisive, and whose behavior at
least could not be mistaken for the affectation and coquetry of an
elegant female.