The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his dec-
laration 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 sup-
posed 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. Ben-
net 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 go-
ing 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 es-
cape, she added: "Lizzy, I insist upon your staying and hearing Mr. Collins."
Elizabeth would not oppose such an injunction—and a moment's consid-
eration 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 do-
ing you any disservice, rather adds to your other perfections. You would
have been less amiable in my eyes had there not been this little unwilling-
ness; but allow me to assure you, that I have your respected mother's per-
mission 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 matri-
mony in his parish; secondly, that I am convinced that it will add very great-
ly 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 conde-
scended 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 mar-
ry. 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 de-
scribe; and your wit and vivacity, I think, must be acceptable to her, espe-
cially when tempered with the silence and respect which her rank will in-
evitably excite. Thus much for my general intention in favour of matrimo-
ny; 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 es-
tate 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 possi-
ble, when the melancholy event takes place—which, however, as I have al-
ready 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 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 an-
swer. 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 ex-
traordinary 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 per-
fectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am con-
vinced 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 disap-
prove 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 your 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 fam-
ily, and may take possession of Longbourn estate whenever it falls, without
any self-reproach. This matter may be considered, therefore, as finally set-
tled." 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 re-
fusal 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 qualifi-
cations. As I must therefore conclude that you are not serious in your rejec-
tion 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 respectable 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 gal-
lantry; "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, 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 deci-
sive, and whose behavior at least could not be mistaken for the affectation
and coquetry of an elegant female.
