Pride and Prejudice / Гордость и предубеждение. Джейн Остин

replied Mr. Wickham; “his estate there is a noble one. A clear ten thousand per annum.[83] I can give you certain information on that subject for I have been connected with his family in a particular manner from my infancy.”

      Elizabeth looked surprised.

      “Then you may be surprised, Miss Bennet, after seeing the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?”

      “I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”

      “I have no right to give my opinion,” said Wickham, “as to his being agreeable or otherwise. I have known him too long and too well to be a fair judge. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish – and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else. Here you are in your own family.”

      “Upon my word, I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride.”

      “I cannot pretend to be sorry,” said Wickham, after a short interruption, “that he or that any man should not be estimated beyond their deserts[84]; but with him I believe it does not often happen. The world is blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his imposing manners, and sees him only as he chooses to be seen.”

      “I took him, even on my slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man.” Wickham only shook his head.

      “I wonder,” said he, at the next opportunity of speaking, “whether he is likely to be in this country much longer.”

      “I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans to stay here will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”

      “Oh! No – it is not for me to be driven away by Mr. Darcy. If he wishes to avoid seeing me, he must go. We are not on friendly terms, and it always gives me pain to meet him, but I have no reason for avoiding him but what I might proclaim before all the world, a sense of very great ill-usage,[85] and most painful regrets at his being what he is. His father, the late Mr. Darcy, was one of the best men that ever breathed, and the truest friend I ever had. But his son's behaviour to myself has been scandalous; however I believe I could forgive him anything and everything, rather than his disappointing the hopes and disgracing the memory of his father.”

      Elizabeth found the interest of the subject increase, and listened with all her heart; but the delicacy of it prevented further inquiry.

      Mr. Wickham began to speak on Meryton, the neighbourhood, the society, appearing highly pleased with all that he had yet seen, and speaking of the latter with gallantry.

      “Society, I admit, is necessary to me. I have been a disappointed man, and my spirits will not bear solitude.

      I must have employment and society. A military life is not what I was intended for. I was brought up for the church, and I should at this time have been in possession of a most valuable living, if it had pleased the gentleman we were speaking of just now.”

      “Indeed!”

      “Yes – the late Mr. Darcy bequeathed me the best living[86] in his gift. He was my godfather, and excessively attached to me. He meant to provide for me sufficiently, and thought he had done it; but when the living fell, it was given elsewhere.”

      “Good heavens!” cried Elizabeth; “but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?”[87]

      “There was just such an informality in the terms of the bequest as to give me no hope from law. A man of honour could not have doubted the intention, but Mr. Darcy chose to doubt it, and declared that I had lost all claim to it by extravagance, imprudence – in short anything or nothing. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago, and that it was given to another man; and no less certain is it, that I cannot accuse myself of having really done anything to deserve to lose it. I have an unguarded temper[88], and I may have spoken my opinion of 'him, and to him, too freely. I can recall nothing worse. But the fact is, that we are very different sort of men, and that he hates me.”

      “This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”

      “Some time or other he will be – but not by me. Till I can forget his father, I can never expose him.”

      Elizabeth honoured him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them.

      “But what,” said she, after a pause, “can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?”

      “A thorough, determined dislike of me – a dislike which I attribute in some measure to jealousy. His father's uncommon attachment to me irritated him, I believe, very early in life. He had not a temper to bear the sort of competition in which we stood – the sort of preference which was often given me.”

      “I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this – though I have never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this.”

      Elizabeth was deep in thought, and after a time exclaimed, “To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father!”

      “We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest part of our youth was passed together. My father gave up everything to be of use to the late Mr. Darcy and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend. Mr. Darcy often acknowledged himself to be under the greatest obligations to my father's active superintendence, and when, immediately before my father's death, Mr. Darcy gave him a voluntary promise of providing for me, I am convinced that he felt it to be as much a debt of gratitude to him, as of his affection to myself.”

      “How abominable!” cried Elizabeth. “I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you!”

      “It is wonderful,” replied Wickham, “for almost all his actions may be traced to pride; and pride had often been his best friend. It has connected him nearer with virtue than with any other feeling.”

      “Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”

      “Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride – for he is very proud of what his father was – has done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive. He has also brotherly pride, which, with some brotherly affection, makes him a very kind and careful guardian of his sister, and you will hear him generally described as the most attentive and best of brothers.”

      “What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”

      He shook his head. “I wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother – very, very proud. As a child, she was affectionate and pleasing, and extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to her amusement. But she is nothing to me now. She is a handsome girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and, I understand, highly accomplished. Since her father's death, her home has been London, where a lady lives with her, and superintends her education.”

      After many pauses and many trials of other subjects, Elizabeth said:

      “I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley, who is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each

83

Чистых десять тысяч годового дохода.

84

его или кого-то другого оценивают по заслугам

85

чувство причинённой мне жестокой обиды

86

(церк.) приход

87

Почему вы не стали искать защиты в суде?

88

несдержанный нрав