Bingley.

A little more to the right, Martin. That will do. Push those lights farther back—behind the trees. Yes, that is better. [Looking about him.] I think that is all. You may go. [The men leave the room.] Well, Darcy, do you approve of the arrangements? Have you anything to suggest? Any criticisms?

Darcy.

I have no criticisms for the arrangements.

Bingley.

[Laughing.] But you have for the ball. Yes, I know—still I was really obliged to keep my promise.

Darcy.

I am glad to find that a promise is with you an obligation.

Bingley.

Oh, come, Darcy! I understand. Set your mind at rest. I am going to London with you, although I must say I do not see the necessity for it. I think you are exaggerating the effect of any small attentions of mine toward Miss Bennet. However, we will cling together, and fly a common danger.

Darcy.

[Coldly.] Common danger?

Bingley.

[Smiling.] Yes, common danger! I, too, have eyes. Where will you match the wit and vivacity of Miss Elizabeth Bennet?

Darcy.

[Quietly.] She is indeed charming, and I admit that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, I might be in some danger. [Very coolly and confidently.] But they form, for me, an insurmountable barrier against any possible peril.

Bingley.

Love laughs at bars, Darcy! [Darcy looks annoyed.] No,—I won't! It really is not fair, since it is my fault. You would never have been put to this test if you hadn't been so good as to stay on here with me after that——

[Stopping suddenly, and with an entire change from his former bantering tone, he says in a hesitating manner.] Darcy, do you really think you should be silent about Wickham?

Darcy.

[Haughtily.] Decidedly! I do not choose to lay my private affairs before the world.

Bingley.

But the fellow is sailing under false colours. You do not know what the result may be. I really must speak of this again, Darcy, even at the risk of offending you. [Darcy makes an impatient gesture.] I am truly concerned at the foothold this rascal has already gained in the Bennet family. What he has failed to accomplish once he may succeed in again. These young ladies have no brother to defend them.

Darcy.

Neither have they the wealth to excite Wickham's cupidity. At any rate I do not wish to be the one to enlighten the neighbourhood. Besides, I understand that he has left Meryton.

Bingley.

Even so—I—— [He is interrupted by Miss Bingley, who enters gaily from the drawing-room.]

Miss Bingley.

Ah! Here you are! [To Darcy.] Will you be so kind? [She holds out her arm for him to clasp her bracelet.] Your sister Georgiana should be here, Mr. Darcy. [To her brother.] Charles, you should have insisted on her coming.

Bingley.

I am not in the habit of insisting with Darcy.

Miss Bingley.

[Laughingly.] Very true. [To Darcy, who has at length succeeded in fastening the bracelet.] Thank you. [Looking about her.] It is vastly pretty, Charles, but I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball will be rather a punishment than a pleasure.

Bingley.

[Laughing.] If you mean Darcy, he may go to bed, if he pleases, before it begins.

Miss Bingley.

But, Charles, it would certainly be more rational if conversation instead of dancing were made the order of the day.

Bingley.

Much more rational, my dear Caroline, but it would not be near so much like a ball.

Martin, the Footman.

[Entering, to Bingley.] Several of the carriages have arrived, sir, and the guests will soon be entering the ball-room.

Bingley.

[To the Footman.] Very well. [To Miss Bingley.] Come Caroline, we must be at our post. We will leave Darcy to make up his mind whether he will join us later.

The Voice.

Mrs. Long—the Miss Longs. [A pause.] Colonel Forster and Mr. Denny. [A pause.] Mr. and Mrs. Goulding. [A pause.] Mrs. Bennet—the Miss Bennets. [Darcy stops in his walk and goes toward the ball-room archway—then he walks once more up and down.] Mrs. King—Miss King. [Darcy again moves toward the ball-room; he lifts the curtain, hesitates—looks in—then disappears.] Sir William and Lady Lucas—Miss Lucas—Mr. Robinson.

Charlotte.

[Peeps in—then enters.] Isn't this pretty! Come in here for a moment, Eliza. I want to tell you something.

Elizabeth.

[Following her.] Why did I promise to dance with Mr. Darcy just now! Why did not I have more presence of mind!

Charlotte.

I dare say you will find him very agreeable.

Elizabeth.

Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all. To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.

Charlotte.

I wouldn't be a simpleton, Eliza. You are angry because Wickham is not here, but I wouldn't allow my fancy for him to make me unpleasant in the eyes of a man of ten times his consequence.

Elizabeth.

My fancy for Wickham, as you choose to call it, is simply my sympathy for a most ill-used man: also the relief of meeting with good manners and a good understanding after the insufferable pride of Mr. Darcy, and the stupid pomposity of that dreadful Mr. Collins! [Charlotte starts.] Oh, my dear Charlotte, I have never thanked you half enough for helping us to endure that man. It was so good-natured in you to sacrifice yourself by listening to those interminable speeches of his.—I am more obliged to you than I can express. But oh, what a relief it is to know that he is really gone!

Charlotte.

[Who has listened to all this tirade in increasing embarrassment.] Oh, don't! Don't, Eliza! You are making it so terribly hard for me. But,—but I must tell you.—I am engaged to Mr. Collins!

Elizabeth.

Engaged! Engaged to—to Mr. Collins! Oh, my dear Charlotte—impossible! [Hopefully.] You are joking!

Charlotte.

[With spirit.] No, indeed, Eliza, I am in most serious earnest. Why should you be so surprised? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman's good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you?

Elizabeth.

[Confused.] Oh, no—no—of course not. And,—and you must forgive all I have just said. I couldn't possibly have imagined——

Charlotte.

[More sweetly.] No, Eliza, indeed you could not. [She puts her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.] And we shall be friends still?

Elizabeth.

Why, of course, of course, dear Charlotte. It was only the—the surprise. You know how fond I am of you. You know I wish you all imaginable happiness.

Charlotte.

Yes, I am sure of it. You must be surprised—very much surprised, so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But, dear Eliza, when you have had time to think it all over, I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. I am not romantic. I ask only a comfortable home, and, considering Mr. Collins' situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.

Elizabeth.

[In an absent manner.] Undoubtedly.

Charlotte.

[Looking at Elizabeth affectionately and wistfully.] And you will come to visit me sometimes? I could not bear to lose you, Eliza!

Elizabeth.

[Looking up, and patting Charlotte's hand.] Surely, Charlotte! [Smiling.] We are to be cousins, you know.

Charlotte.

[Cheerfully.] Why, so we are!

[Colonel Forster comes from the ball-room. Lydia and Denny enter from the drawing-room.]

Colonel Forster.

[Hurriedly going to Charlotte.] I am to have the honour of this reel, I believe, Miss Lucas.

Charlotte.

Oh yes, Colonel Forster.

Lydia.

I think we are being treated abominably ill, Lizzy! It seems that Mr. Wickham has gone off on business somewhere, so he will not be here at all. [Lydia looks off toward the ball-room.]

Denny.

[Aside to Elizabeth significantly.] I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now if he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman.

Lydia.

[Suddenly.] Why, Mr. Denny—I do believe the reel is half over—I dearly love a reel! We shall miss it, altogether. Come! [She drags Denny off.]

Elizabeth.

[Alone.] Well! Well! The world is surely upside down. Charlotte and—Collins! What a match!

Darcy.

[Approaching from the ball-room.] Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?

[Elizabeth makes no answer.]

Do not you enjoy the reel, Miss Bennet?

Elizabeth.

[Looking up.] Oh, I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say—"Yes," that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing that kind of scheme. I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all; and now despise me, if you dare!

Darcy.

[Smiling.] I do not dare.

Colonel Forster.

[Entering from the ball-room, and looking about him, sees Elizabeth and comes to her.] May I have the honour, Miss Bennet?

Elizabeth.

I do not dance the reel, Colonel Forster.

Colonel Forster.

Oh, the reel is over. This is our dance.

Elizabeth.

Oh!

Miss Bingley.

[Approaching Darcy.] I can guess the subject of your reverie.

Darcy.

I should imagine not.

Miss Bingley.

You are considering how insufferable it would be to pass many evenings in such society. Indeed, I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed. The insipidity and yet the noise;—the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!

Darcy.

Your conjecture is totally wrong. I assure you, my mind was more agreeably engaged. I was meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.

Miss Bingley.

[Looking at him very meaningly and sweetly, speaks with coquetry.] Indeed! And will not you tell me what lady has the credit of inspiring such reflections?

Darcy.

[With great intrepidity.] Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Miss Bingley.

[Taken aback.] Miss Elizabeth Bennet! I am all astonishment! How long has she been such a favourite? Pray when am I to wish you joy?

Darcy.

That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid: it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.

Miss Bingley.

Nay, if you are so serious about it I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law! Of course she will always be at Pemberley with you. Perhaps you might give her a few hints as to the advantage of holding her tongue.

Darcy.

Thank you. Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?

Miss Bingley.

Oh, yes! Let the portrait of your uncle, the attorney, be placed next to your great uncle, the Judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes!

Darcy.

It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression; but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied.

Miss Bingley.

[Sarcastically.] Oh, I fear not—[Elizabeth and Colonel Forster, with others, enter from the ball-room—Mrs. Bennet with Lady Lucas from the drawing-room.] Here comes the fair one—[Seeing Mrs. Bennet.]—and mamma-in-law as well. I will not intrude on the family party.

Bingley.

I thought this next dance was the one you liked so much, Darcy. Let me find you a partner.

Darcy.

[Starting, as if from a reverie..] So it is. Thank you—I have a partner.

Bingley.

[Looking after Darcy with a smile, turns to Jane.] You must be tired, Miss Bennet. I propose that we sit quietly through this dance. Do you agree?

Jane.

Yes, indeed. [She sits on the bench.] It will be very pleasant. [Looking about her.] How very prettily you have arranged all the rooms, Mr. Bingley.

Bingley.

I am so glad you think so. I feared they were rather inconvenient for so large a party.

Jane.

Oh, I find them delightful!

Bingley.

You are always charitable, Miss Bennet. It seems to me you always manage to see the best side of everything. I never knew you to say an ill word about a person or a place.

Jane.

[Smiling.] Oh, I fear that is not quite exact. I only try to see things in their best light, perhaps.

Bingley.

That is just it. The rest of us rarely try to see things in that way. So you see I have proved my case. You are too amiable.

Jane.

Not for to-night, Mr. Bingley. Everybody is of one mind to-night. There is but one point of view—you are giving nothing but pleasure.

Bingley.[Soberly.] I wish it were so—but—— [With impulsive earnestness.] Dear Miss Bennet, I wish to tell you—I must tell you——

Elizabeth.

It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the rooms, or the number of couples.

Darcy.

[Smiling.] I assure you I will say whatever you wish.

Elizabeth.

Very well, that reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones.

Darcy.

Do you talk by rule then?

Elizabeth.

Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know,—and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.

Darcy.

Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?

Elizabeth.

[Archly.] Both, for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds; we are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room and be handed down to posterity with all the Éclat of a proverb.

Darcy.

This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure. How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait, undoubtedly.

Elizabeth.

I shall not decide on my own performance. [There is a short silence; then, as if with an effort, Elizabeth speaks.] I am surprised not to see Mr. Wickham here to-night. I find that he is a great favourite with the officers. He has made many friends among them.

Darcy.

[With great hauteur.] Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may insure his making friends; whether he may be equally capable of retaining them is less certain.

Elizabeth.

[Excitedly.] He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship, and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life.

[They are both silent.]

Sir William Lucas.

[Coming up to them all urbanity and smiles.] What a charming amusement for young people this dancing is, Mr. Darcy! I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies.

Darcy.

Certainly, sir, and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world: every savage can dance.

Sir William.

[Smiling.] Do you often dance at St. James?

Darcy.

Never, sir.

Sir William.

You have a house in town, I conclude.

[Mr. Darcy bows, but does not speak.]

Sir William.

I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself: but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.

Sir William.

But I must not further interrupt you, sir! I only wish to tell you once more how highly gratified I have been by your superior dancing; allow me also to say that your fair partner does not disgrace you. It is a great pleasure to see you together. I must hope to—to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza, [Glancing at Bingley and Jane, who are talking earnestly together at the back of the scene.] shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in: but let me not interrupt you—you will not thank me, Mr. Darcy, for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me!

Darcy.

[Murmurs to himself.] So! [Looking earnestly at Bingley and Jane, he seems much impressed by what Sir William has said. Elizabeth notices this. Recovering himself, Darcy turns to her again.] Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.

Elizabeth.

I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted any two people who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next, I cannot imagine.

Darcy.

[Smiling.] What think you of books?

Elizabeth.

Books? Oh no: I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings.

Darcy.

I am sorry you think so, but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions of them.

Elizabeth.

No, I cannot talk of books at a ball—my head is always full of something else.

Darcy.

The present always occupies you in such scenes, does it?

Elizabeth.

[In an absent manner.] Yes, always. [Suddenly.] I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave; that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created?

Darcy.

[Firmly.] I am.

Elizabeth.

And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?

Darcy.

I hope not.

Elizabeth.

It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.

Darcy.

May I ask to what these questions lead?

Elizabeth.

Merely to the illustration of your character. I am trying to make it out.

Darcy.

And what is your success?

Elizabeth.

[Shaking her head.] I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.

Darcy.

[Gravely.] I can readily believe that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.

Elizabeth.

But if I do not take your likeness now I may never have another opportunity.

Darcy.

[Very stiffly.] I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.

[Miss Bingley enters from the ball-room. She comes directly to Darcy and Elizabeth.]

Miss Bingley.

Oh, Mr. Darcy—would you be so good as to go to Charles? He wishes very much to consult with you about some of the table arrangements. You will find him in the dining-parlour. [With exaggerated politeness to Elizabeth.] That is, if Miss Bennet will permit you.

Elizabeth.

[Carelessly.] Oh, certainly.

[Darcy bows and goes out.]

Miss Bingley.

[To Elizabeth, after a moment's silence.] So, Miss Bennet, I hear that you are quite delighted with George Wickham. He must have told you all a pretty tale. As to Mr. Darcy's using him ill, it is perfectly false. I do not know the particulars, but I do know that George Wickham has treated Mr. Darcy in a most infamous manner. His coming into the county at all is a most insolent thing. I feel very strongly on this point, Miss Bennet, as Mr. Darcy's interests are so intimately associated with our own. [She watches Elizabeth.] We hope Miss Georgiana Darcy may some day be my sister. My brother admires her greatly.

Elizabeth.

[With indifference.] Ah!

Miss Bingley.

Yes, and therefore we resent these falsehoods and this presumption on the part of George Wickham. But, really, considering his descent, we could not expect much better. He has evidently forgotten to tell you that he is the son of old Wickham, steward to the late Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth.

[Angrily.] His guilt and his descent appear by your account to be the same. I have heard you accuse him of nothing worse than of being the son of Mr. Darcy's steward, and of that, I can assure you, he informed me himself.

Miss Bingley.

[With a sneer.] Oh! I beg your pardon. Excuse my interference; it was kindly meant.

[She goes out.]

Elizabeth.

Insolent girl! You are much mistaken if you expect to influence me by such a paltry attack at this. I see nothing in it but your own wilful ignorance and the malice of Mr. Darcy.

[Footmen now come in with small tables, which they place about the stage. Bingley comes in and directs them. Darcy follows him.]