ACT IV

Previous

The Lawn and Shrubbery at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet is seated in a garden chair with pillows at her back. She has an umbrella over her head. Near her stands a table on which are bottles, dishes, etc. She wears a big cap, and is gowned in a widely-flowing, flowered chamber-robe, over which is fastened a shawl; across her knees is a lap-robe. Her entire get-up is grotesque and laughable. About her hover the housekeeper, Hill and Jane.

Jane.

Dear mamma, do try and take some of this nice gruel. You will be ill if you do not eat something.

Hill.

Yes, do, I beg of you, Madam. Now that you are once more in the air, if you will only take some food you will feel much better.

Mrs. Bennet.

[Fretfully.] How can I feel better? I must be ill. It is all very well for the rest of you, now that this disgrace has been brought upon me—but if I had been able to carry my point—if I could have gone to Brighton with all my family, this would never have happened. But poor dear Lydia had nobody to take care of her. Oh, that villainous Wickham! I am sure there was some great neglect or other somewhere, for Lydia is not the kind of girl to run away with a man. But no one would listen to me. I was overruled, as I always am. Poor Lydia! Poor dear child!

Jane.

[Soothingly.] Oh, mamma, try to be calm.

Hill.

Yes, Madam, this excitement is so bad for you.

Mrs. Bennet.

How can I help being excited? You have no feelings. Here is Mr. Bennet gone away, and I know he will fight that abominable Wickham and be killed. And then what is to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out before Mr. Bennet is cold in his grave.

Jane.

Oh, mamma, do not have such terrific ideas.

Mrs. Bennet.

[Weeping.] If my brother Gardiner is not kind to me, I do not know what we shall do.

Jane.

Yes, yes. My Uncle Gardiner is very kind. He is doing everything in his power for us. He is helping my father now in London, you know. I hope he will find Lydia, and perhaps he may be able to arrange a marriage after all. You must not give up so, dear mamma.

Hill.

No indeed, Madam. You must not indeed.

Mrs. Bennet.

[Brightening.] Yes, Jane, that is true. My brother may be able to see that they are married. Write to him at once, Jane. Tell him to find them out wherever they may be, and if they are not married already, make them marry. Oh, I do think that Wickham is the wickedest young man in the world to so deceive my poor innocent Lydia. But, Jane, go and write my brother and tell him that Lydia need not wait for wedding clothes—don't let her even give directions till she has seen me, for she doesn't know which are the best warehouses. And oh, Jane, tell my brother to keep your father from fighting that hateful Wickham. Tell him what a dreadful state I am in.

Jane.

Yes, mamma. [She is about to go.]

Mrs. Bennet.

Where are you going?

Jane.

Why, to write the letter, mamma.

Mrs. Bennet.

[Fretfully.] Oh, not just this minute. Don't leave me alone. Where is Lizzy?

Jane.

She has gone down the road to meet the post. She hopes to bring you good news.

Mrs. Bennet.

[Lamenting.] She had better stay here and be of some help. She has only just got home and now she leaves me. But nobody thinks of me. Nobody knows what I suffer. I am frightened out of my wits. I have such tremblings and flutterings all over me—such spasms in my side—and pains in my head, and such beatings at my heart. Oh, I can get no rest by night or by day! [To Hill.] You might try and do something, Hill. Where is my soothing draught?

Hill.

[Looking.] Here, Madam. No, I must have left it in your room. I will run fetch it. [She goes out quickly.]

Jane.

[Who has been looking off toward the driveway during part of this tirade.] Oh, mamma—mamma! Lizzy's running up the drive. She is smiling! She has some good news, I am sure.

Mrs. Bennet.

Take care, Jane. You are exciting me. Oh, my poor nerves.

[Elizabeth enters, breathless. She has a letter in her hand.]

Elizabeth.

Oh, good news—good news, Jane!—mamma! They are married!

Jane.

Oh, Lizzy—Lizzy!

Mrs. Bennet.

You are sure, Lizzy? Don't excite me. You are sure?

Elizabeth.

[Half laughing and half crying.] Oh, yes, 'tis certain. My dear Aunt Gardiner has written me all about it. They are really married! Oh, how good my uncle is! [She kisses the letter.]

Mrs. Bennet.

Oh, Jane—Oh, Lizzy! My dear, dear Lydia! She is really married! I shall see her again! Oh, my good, kind brother! But how did it happen, Lizzy?

Jane.

Yes, tell us all about it. Let me read it. [She reaches for the letter.]

Elizabeth.

[Keeping the letter.] No, I will tell you. Well, my father and my uncle succeeded in finding Lydia. My aunt does not tell me just how it was done.

Mrs. Bennet.

[Triumphantly.] And your father found that they were married after all. I told him——

Elizabeth.

No, mamma. They were not married, and they had no idea of being—but my father and uncle insisted upon it. They took Lydia away at once to my aunt's house and from there, they were married only yesterday at St. Clement's Church.

Mrs. Bennet.

St. Clement's—fine!

Elizabeth.

My dear good uncle has arranged to have all Mr. Wickham's debts paid and my father is to settle an allowance on Lydia.

Jane.

But where are they? What are they going to do?

Elizabeth.

My father is coming home at once. He may be here at any moment. At first he would not consent to let Lydia and Wickham come to us, but my aunt and uncle urged it—and my father knew how anxious mamma would be—and so they are coming here too.

Jane.

At once?

Elizabeth.

Yes, directly, to-day.

Mrs. Bennet.

Oh, my dear Lydia! How I long to see her, and to see my dear Wickham too. But the clothes, the wedding clothes! I must write to my Sister Gardiner about them directly.

[She tries to get out of the chair.]

Jane.

Oh, mamma, there is plenty of time for that.

Mrs. Bennet.

Well, perhaps so. My dear, dear Lydia! How merry we shall all be together! I am so happy! Lydia married. She is Mrs. Wickham. How well it sounds. My dear Jane, I must see about the clothes. We will settle with your father about the money later. Oh, I am in such a flutter! Here comes Hill. [Hill enters with the bottle.] My dear Hill, have you heard the news? Miss Lydia is married and is coming home directly.

Hill.

Indeed!

Mrs. Bennet.

Yes, you shall all have a bowl of punch, to make merry for her wedding, and I am going into the house to write about the clothes. [To Jane, who is going with her.] No, Jane, you stay where you are. I know what I am about. Come, Hill. Think of it—Mrs. Wickham!

[She goes out leaning on Hill's arm, leaving Jane and Elizabeth together.]

Jane.

Oh, Lizzy, how relieved and happy we should be. Is not it wonderful? [Anxiously.] Are you sure it is true? Have you told us all?

Elizabeth.

Yes, Jane, it is true. They are really married. And for this we are to be thankful. In spite of Lydia's folly and Wickham's wretched character, we are to rejoice. How strange it is! Heigh-ho!

Jane.

[Putting out her hand for the letter which Elizabeth still carries.] May not I read the letter, Lizzy?

Elizabeth.

No, not now, dear. My aunt has some queer notions in her head. Later perhaps. [After a pause.] I am very sorry now that in my agitation I told Mr. Darcy about this wretched affair. Now that it has come out so well, he need never have known anything about it, and it would have saved me a great deal of mortification.

Jane.

But how would you ever have explained things to Charlotte and Mr. Collins without his help? Mr. Darcy made everything so smooth and plausible for your sudden departure.

Elizabeth.

Yes, that is true.

Jane.

Really, Lizzy, I think I shall have to take up the cudgels in Mr. Darcy's defence. His kindness to you has quite won my heart, and his amazing proposal was certainly a most flattering compliment. Why can you see no good in Mr. Darcy, Lizzy? You were always so full of excuses for Wickham, though it is true his open and delightful manners deceived us all.

Elizabeth.

Yes, there certainly was some great mismanagement in the education of those two young men. One has all the goodness and the other all the appearance of it.

Jane.

I never thought Mr. Darcy so deficient in the appearance of it as you did, and he certainly could hardly have had the friends he has if he did not possess some good qualities. [Shyly.] Lizzy, have you heard that Mr. Bingley is back in Netherfield?

Elizabeth.

[Astonished.] Oh, Jane, no. When did he come? Have you seen him?

Jane.

No; I hardly expect to see him.

Elizabeth.

[Brightly.] Yes, you will, if he has returned. [Suddenly clapping her hands.] Oh, I understand. [Kissing her.] My darling Jane, you are going to be very happy!

Jane.

Lizzy dear—don't, don't. That is all over now, and besides I don't want to be happy unless you can be, too.

Elizabeth.

Oh, forty Mr. Bingleys wouldn't make me happy. Till I have your disposition, I never can have happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself. Perhaps if I have very good luck I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.

Harris.

[Entering.] Mr. Bennet has returned, Madam, and is looking for you.

Jane.

Papa returned!

Elizabeth.

Where is he, Harris? [Looking off.] There he comes! Papa!

[They run to meet Mr. Bennet, and, bringing him in, seat him in a garden chair, one on either side of him.]

Elizabeth.

Papa, tell us all about it quickly—quickly.

Jane.

Are they really married, papa?

Mr. Bennet.

Yes, that misfortune is well settled on them. They are married fast enough.

Elizabeth.

And where are they? When will they be here?

Mr. Bennet.

I should say they would be here directly. I didn't care to travel with them, but they are not far behind—only just far enough to keep out of the dust of my post chaise.

Elizabeth.

Dear papa—how you must have suffered!

Mr. Bennet.

Say nothing of that—who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing, and I ought to feel it.

Elizabeth.

You must not be too severe upon yourself.

Mr. Bennet.

You may well warn me against such an evil. No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. The impression will pass away soon enough.

Elizabeth.

But, papa, how did you persuade them to marry?

Mr. Bennet.

I didn't persuade them; I haven't the means. It is all your uncle's doing. He has managed to buy Wickham for us.

Jane.

Oh, dear good uncle!

Mr. Bennet.

[Looks at Jane quizzically.] But there are two things that I want very much to know—one is how much money your uncle has laid down to bring it about, and the other, how I am ever to pay him.

Jane.

But my uncle did not do it all?

Elizabeth.

No, papa. My Aunt Gardiner has written me that you are to give Lydia an allowance.

Mr. Bennet.

Yes, one hundred a year. Do you think that any man in his proper senses would marry Lydia on so slight a temptation as one hundred a year?

Elizabeth.

That is very true, though it had not occurred to me before. Oh, it must be my uncle's doings. Generous man! I am afraid he has distressed himself. A small sum could not do all this.

Mr. Bennet.

No, Wickham's a fool if he takes Lydia with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds. I should be sorry to think so ill of him in the very beginning of our relationship.

Elizabeth.

Ten thousand pounds! Heaven forbid! How is one-half such a sum to be repaid?

Mr. Bennet.

That is what I should like to know.

Elizabeth.

Well, my uncle's kindness can never be requited. If such goodness as his does not make Lydia miserable, then she will never deserve to be happy.

[Laughter and voices are heard outside.]

Elizabeth.

Surely I hear voices. [Looking off.] Why, they have come. See papa—Jane—there are Lydia and Wickham.

Mr. Bennet.

Yes, here they are. I will go to the library. I can receive their congratulations later. You know I am prodigiously fond of Wickham, Lizzy. I defy even Sir William Lucas himself to produce a more valuable son-in-law.

[He goes out.]

Jane.

I must run and tell mamma.

[She is just starting when Wickham and Lydia enter. They are in travelling dress and are followed by servants bringing all sorts of bandboxes, wraps and parcels. They come in with the utmost unconcern and no shadow of shame.]

Lydia.

Well, Jane, well, Lizzy, here we are!

Wickham.

[Smiling and unabashed.] My sister, Jane—My sister Elizabeth.

[He kisses their hands. Jane and Elizabeth are confused and blushing. Neither Wickham nor Lydia is in the least discomposed.]

Lydia.

[Looking about.] Good gracious! Here I am again! I am sure I had no idea of being married when I went away, though I thought it would be very good fun if I was. Why don't you take the boxes in, Harris? Wickham, have you seen my pink-flowered bandbox? [Looking over the parcels.] No, it isn't here. Oh, my dear Wickham, do go fetch it—you know 'tis the box with the white satin hat you bought me. I wouldn't lose it for the world. Go, go!

Wickham.

Certainly, my dear. [To the girls.] You see how eagerly I embrace my new opportunities!

[He runs out, laughing.]

Lydia.

[To Elizabeth and Jane.] Oh, girls, I am dying to give you an account of my wedding.

Elizabeth.

I think there cannot be too little said on that subject.

Lydia.

La, you are so strange. But Jane wants to hear, I know. Anyway, I want to tell you. Well, there was such a fuss! My aunt was preaching and talking away to me all the time I was dressing, just as if she was reading a sermon. I didn't hear one word in ten of it all. I was thinking of my dear Wickham. I longed to know whether he would be married in his blue coat. Well, we got to church, and then my uncle gave me a fright after we got there, because he was so late, and he was going to give me away, you know. But then, if he hadn't come, Mr. Darcy might have done as well.

Jane and Elizabeth.

Mr. Darcy!

Lydia.

Oh, yes, Darcy was there. He came along with Wickham. [Suddenly stopping.] But gracious me! I quite forgot. I ought not to have said a word about it. I promised them as faithfully—what will Wickham say? It was to be such a secret.

Jane.

If it was to be a secret, Lydia, say not another word on the subject. We shall ask you no questions.

[Elizabeth looks most anxious, but says nothing.]

Lydia.

Thank you—for if you did, I should certainly tell you all, and then Wickham would be angry. [She sees Mrs. Bennet, who enters in great excitement from the house.] Oh, there is mamma.

[They rush into each other's arms. Wickham returns at about the same time.]

Mrs. Bennet.

Oh, my dear, dear Lydia! [To Wickham with affectionate warmth.] My dear Wickham!

[They also embrace.]

Lydia.

Oh, mamma! Aren't you glad to see us? [Wickham turns and talks to Jane and Elizabeth.] Do all the people hereabouts know that I am married? I was afraid they might not, and so I let my hand just rest on the window-frame outside the carriage, so that everybody could see my wedding ring; and then I bowed and smiled like everything.

Mrs. Bennet.

You may be sure, my dear, that everybody will rejoice with us in our good luck. [Sighing.] Your marriage is a great compensation to me after all my disappointment about Jane and Lizzy. I do not blame Jane, for she would have got Mr. Bingley if she could. But Lizzy! Oh, Lydia, it is very hard to think she might now have been Mrs. Collins! But how about your clothes?

Lydia.

Oh, I have a lot already. You may be sure I would not forget them.

Mrs. Bennet.

[Alarmed.] But you didn't know the best warehouses! Well, never mind, we will see to that later. Now you must all come in and have dinner. You must be famished. Come, girls. Come, my dear Wickham.

[They all go toward the house. At the door Lydia pushes Jane back.]

Lydia.

Ah, Jane, I take your place now. I go first because I am a married woman.

[They all go into the house. After a pause, Harris's voice is heard outside.]

Harris.

Will not you come into the house, Madam?

Lady Catherine.

[Entering, followed by Harris.] No, I prefer to remain here. Tell Miss Elizabeth Bennet that a lady wishes to see her at once. Remember, I cannot be kept waiting.

Harris.

Yes, Madam. [He bows and goes out.]

Lady Catherine.

[Looks about her with a sniff, then deliberately seats herself in the big garden chair with the umbrella over it. She mutters to herself from time to time and taps her foot impatiently.] Insufferable impudence! Conceited little minx! She shall have a piece of my mind.

[Elizabeth comes to her from the house.]

Lady Catherine.

[Without moving.] Miss Bennet, you can be at no loss to understand the reason of my journey hither. Your own heart—your own conscience must tell you why I come.

Elizabeth.

[In unaffected astonishment.] Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I am not at all able to account for the honour of seeing you here.

Lady Catherine.

Miss Bennet, you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. I have just been told that you—that Miss Elizabeth Bennet would in all likelihood be soon married to my nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it to be a scandalous falsehood, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place that I might make my sentiments known to you.

Elizabeth.

[With astonishment and disdain.] If you believed it impossible to be true, I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your Ladyship propose by it?

Lady Catherine.

At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.

Elizabeth.

[Coolly.] Your coming to Longbourn to see me and my family, will be rather a confirmation of it, if indeed such a report is in existence.

Lady Catherine.

If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Do you not know that such a report is spread about?

Elizabeth.

I never heard that it was.

Lady Catherine.

And can you likewise declare that there is no foundation for it?

Elizabeth.

Your Ladyship may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.

Lady Catherine.

This is not to be borne. Miss Bennet, I insist upon being satisfied. Has he—has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?

Elizabeth.

Your Ladyship has declared it to be impossible.

Lady Catherine.

It ought to be so. But your arts and allurements may have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in.

Elizabeth.

If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.

Lady Catherine.

Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am Mr. Darcy's own aunt, and am entitled to know all his dearest concerns.

Elizabeth.

But you are not entitled to know mine.

Lady Catherine.

Let me be rightly understood. This match can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you got to say?

Elizabeth.

Only this—that if it is so, you can have no reason to suppose Mr. Darcy will make an offer to me.

Lady Catherine.

[Hesitating.] The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. While in their cradles, my sister and I planned their union. Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? Do not you see that honour, decorum—nay, interest, forbid you marrying my nephew? Yes interest, Miss Bennet. For you will be slighted and despised by everyone connected with him!

Elizabeth.

These are heavy misfortunes. But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness that she could have no cause to repine.

Lady Catherine.

[In a rage.] Obstinate, headstrong girl! Tell me once for all—are you engaged to my nephew?

Elizabeth.

[Hesitates, then firmly.] I am not.

Lady Catherine.

[Relieved.] And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?

Elizabeth.

I will make no promise of the kind.

Lady Catherine.

Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished. I shall not go away until you have given me the assurance I require.

Elizabeth.

And I certainly never shall give it. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no further on the subject.

Lady Catherine.

[In a fury, but trying to speak calmly.] Not so hasty, if you please. I had hoped to spare you this last humiliation—but your insolence forbids it. I am no stranger to the particulars of your sister's infamous elopement. I know all! The young man's marrying her was a patched-up business at the expense of my nephew. [Elizabeth starts violently.] Oh, you needn't start, Miss! Nobody knows about the whole affair better than you. But I don't wonder you blush to find yourself discovered. You used your arts well. My nephew must have spent full five or six thousand pounds to save your family from disgrace. I should think that such generosity might appeal a little to your gratitude and your sense of decency.

Elizabeth.

[Amazed.] Oh, Madam,—I——

Lady Catherine.

It is quite useless to protest. I have my facts from the best authority. Heaven knows Darcy has reason enough to keep away from Wickham's flirtations and entanglements, but [stopping herself.] that is a family affair. However, you have managed to get him mixed up in them again to the extent of five thousand pounds. But that is not enough,—you want to make this shameless girl my nephew's sister, and the son of his father's steward his brother. Heaven and Earth! Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?

Elizabeth.

[Speaking with great effort.] Madam, you have insulted me in every possible manner. I must beg to return to the house. This is beyond endurance.

Lady Catherine.

Selfish girl! You are then resolved to have him?

Elizabeth.

Lady Catherine, I have nothing further to say.

Lady Catherine.

[Rising from her chair.] Very well. I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine your ambition will be gratified. Depend upon it, I shall carry my point. [Going.] I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. You deserve no such attention. You will see what it is to rouse my displeasure.

[Lady Catherine goes out.]

Elizabeth.

[Sinking upon the garden seat, overwhelmed.] Can it be possible? Do we owe all this to Darcy? Oh, it is intolerable! [She puts her hands over her face in an abandonment of grief.]

Jane.

[Is heard outside calling.] Lizzy! Lizzy! [She enters, and on seeing her sister rushes to her.] Lizzy dear! What is it? Is there any new trouble?

Elizabeth.

[Throwing her arms about her sister.] Oh, Jane, Jane! Yes, there is no end of trouble. Lady Catherine has been here.

Jane.

[Astounded.] Lady Catherine!

Elizabeth.

Yes, yes, and—she says—that—oh, Jane——

Jane.

[Distressed.] Tell me, Lizzy!

Elizabeth.

She says it was Darcy who paid all the money to Wickham—it was Darcy saved us—and—and she says I persuaded him. I ensnared him, and—and she has insulted me.

Jane.

My dear, dear Lizzy. There must be some mistake. It was my good uncle who——

Elizabeth.

[A little calmer.] No—no, Jane, it must be true. I can put things together now. My aunt's hints in the letter—you know I did not want to show it you. Then what Lydia let fall, and her fear of Wickham's anger.

Jane.

[Soothingly.] Well, dear, even so, Mr. Darcy's motive is clear enough—and that should give you no pain.

Elizabeth.

You are mistaken. I know his motive. He feels that he is responsible because he was silent about Wickham's true character. He told me that all this would never have happened, had he done his duty. And now, he will despise us. He will never wish to see us again as long as he lives!

[She walks up and down in great excitement.]

Harris.

[Entering; to Jane.] The young gentlemen from Netherfield, Madam. I told them they would find you here.

Elizabeth.

Oh, Jane, I cannot see them.

[She tries to run away, but before she can escape Bingley enters, all smiles, followed by Darcy, who looks very much troubled and excited. They are both in riding dress; Darcy carries a whip.]

Bingley.

[Shaking hands.] Miss Bennet, I am so happy to see you again. Miss Elizabeth, it is good indeed to be back once more at Longbourn.

[He takes Jane to a garden seat.]

Darcy.

[Embarrassed.] Miss Bennet, believe me, I should not have followed my friend. I only expected to ride with him to the Lodge, but—but I met my aunt coming away from here, and from something she said, I feared,—I imagined she might have offended—distressed you.

[Elizabeth does not reply.]

Bingley.

[Gaily.] Miss Bennet is going to show me the Hermitage. We shall be back directly.

[Jane and Bingley go out.]

Darcy.

[Looking anxiously at Elizabeth, who remains silent.] Forgive my intrusion. I will go.

[He starts to go away.]

Elizabeth.

[Recovering herself.] No—stay, Mr. Darcy. Excuse my own incivility. Your aunt's visit has excited me. I shall be myself in a moment. [Darcy stands by, miserable. At length she speaks in a calmer tone.] Mr. Darcy, your aunt has told me of our overwhelming obligation to you. You must let me thank you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister.

Darcy.

[Exploding and banging his whip against his knees.]

Damn!—Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I beg your pardon. What right has my aunt to meddle in my affairs? How dare she give you such distress?

Elizabeth.

It is far better that we know the truth, Mr. Darcy. For my part, I can never express to you our obligation.

Darcy.

Oh, Miss Bennet—I beg of you! The obligation was entirely my own. I only did what was my decent, plain duty. [Faltering.] You remember—I told you—if I had spoken, this would never have happened.

Elizabeth.

Yes, I remember. But you exaggerated your responsibility. I—we—of course my father will see you about your loan to us. I would not have Lady Catherine think——

Darcy.

[Furious again.] Oh, I will settle matters with Lady Catherine! Have no fears on that score, Miss Bennet. She shall be set right, I assure you.

Elizabeth.

Thank you. And for all your trouble—your kindness—my family can never repay you.

Darcy.

Your family owes me nothing. If I had any thought beyond my duty, it was a thought of—you. [Elizabeth turns away.] Oh, pardon me. Perhaps, I ought not to say all this—but I owe you a great deal, Miss Bennet—more than you can know; and I want you to understand me better. I really am not the pretentious prig I must have seemed to you. I wish you could forgive my abominable pride.

Elizabeth.

[Looking at him with a half smile.] I will, on one condition.

Darcy.

Name it.

Elizabeth.

That you forget my unwarrantable prejudice.

Darcy.

Oh, Miss Bennet! [He goes impetuously forward—then restraining himself, smiles and looks down at her.] I really think, after all, I shall have to be grateful to my aunt. She has done us an enormous service.

Elizabeth.

[Smiling still more.] Well, Lady Catherine loves to be useful!

[At the back of the scene Bingley and Jane, absorbed in each other, pass by, hand in hand. Elizabeth looks at them, then turns to Darcy.]

Elizabeth.

[Archly.] Is that by your permission?

Darcy.

[Ruefully.] Yes, I told you I had been kinder to my friend than to myself.

[Elizabeth, silent, still looks after Bingley and Jane.]

Darcy.

[Continues in a discouraged tone.] Well, I deserve it. It is my own fault. My selfish conceit has wounded you past help. Every sentiment of your nature has felt it—seen it.

Elizabeth.

[Demurely.] But one sentiment they say is blind.

Darcy.

[Stunned.] Miss Bennet! [Elizabeth looks up at him. He rushes toward her.] Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!

[He holds her in his arms.]

CURTAIN.






<
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

Clyx.com


Top of Page
Top of Page