傲慢与偏见 (PRIDE AND PREJUDICE)第三十六章

IF Elizabeth, when Mr. Darcy gave her the letter, did not expect it to contain a renewal of his offers, she had formed no expectation at all of its contents. But such as they were, it may be well supposed how eagerly she went through them, and what a contrariety of emotion they excited. Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did she first understand that he believed any apology to be in his power; and stedfastly was she persuaded that he could have no explanation to give, which a just sense of shame would not conceal. With a strong prejudice against every thing he might say, she began his account of what had happened at Netherfield. She read, with an eagerness which hardly left her power of comprehension, and from impatience of knowing what the next sentence might bring, was incapable of attending to the sense of the one before her eyes. His belief of her sister's insensibility, she instantly resolved to be false, and his account of the real, the worst objections to the match, made her too angry to have any wish of doing him justice. He expressed no regret for what he had done which satisfied her; his style was not penitent, but haughty. It was all pride and insolence.
But when this subject was succeeded by his account of Mr. Wickham, when she read, with somewhat clearer attention, a relation of events, which, if true, must overthrow every cherished opinion of his worth, and which bore so alarming an affinity to his own history of himself, her feelings were yet more acutely painful and more difficult of definition. Astonishment, apprehension, and even horror, oppressed her. She wished to discredit it entirely, repeatedly exclaiming, "This must be false! This cannot be! This must be the grossest falsehood!" -- and when she had gone through the whole letter, though scarcely knowing any thing of the last page or two, put it hastily away, protesting that she would not regard it, that she would never look in it again.

In this perturbed state of mind, with thoughts that could rest on nothing, she walked on; but it would not do; in half a minute the letter was unfolded again, and collecting herself as well as she could, she again began the mortifying perusal of all that related to Wickham, and commanded herself so far as to examine the meaning of every sentence. The account of his connection with the Pemberley family was exactly what he had related himself; and the kindness of the late Mr. Darcy, though she had not before known its extent, agreed equally well with his own words. So far each recital confirmed the other; but when she came to the will, the difference was great. What Wickham had said of the living was fresh in her memory, and as she recalled his very words, it was impossible not to feel that there was gross duplicity on one side or the other; and, for a few moments, she flattered herself that her wishes did not err. But when she read, and re-read with the closest attention, the particulars immediately following of Wickham's resigning all pretensions to the living, of his receiving, in lieu, so considerable a sum as three thousand pounds, again was she forced to hesitate. She put down the letter, weighed every circumstance with what she meant to be impartiality -- deliberated on the probability of each statement -- but with little success. On both sides it was only assertion. Again she read on. But every line proved more clearly that the affair, which she had believed it impossible that any contrivance could so represent as to render Mr. Darcy's conduct in it less than infamous, was capable of a turn which must make him entirely blameless throughout the whole.

The extravagance and general profligacy which he scrupled not to lay to Mr. Wickham's charge, exceedingly shocked her; the more so, as she could bring no proof of its injustice. She had never heard of him before his entrance into the ----shire Militia, in which he had engaged at the persuasion of the young man, who, on meeting him accidentally in town, had there renewed a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life, nothing had been known in Hertfordshire but what he told himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of enquiring. His countenance, voice, and manner had established him at once in the possession of every virtue. She tried to recollect some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence, that might rescue him from the attacks of Mr. Darcy; or at least, by the predominance of virtue, atone for those casual errors, under which she would endeavour to class what Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years continuance. But no such recollection befriended her. She could see him instantly before her, in every charm of air and address; but she could remember no more substantial good than the general approbation of the neighbourhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him in the mess. After pausing on this point a considerable while, she once more continued to read. But, alas! the story which followed, of his designs on Miss Darcy, received some confirmation from what had passed between Colonel Fitzwilliam and herself only the morning before; and at last she was referred for the truth of every particular to Colonel Fitzwilliam himself -- from whom she had previously received the information of his near concern in all his cousin's affairs, and whose character she had no reason to question. At one time she had almost resolved on applying to him, but the idea was checked by the awkwardness of the application, and at length wholly banished by the conviction that Mr. Darcy would never have hazarded such a proposal if he had not been well assured of his cousin's corroboration.

She perfectly remembered every thing that had passed in conversation between Wickham and herself in their first evening at Mr. Philips's. Many of his expressions were still fresh in her memory. She was now struck with the impropriety of such communications to a stranger, and wondered it had escaped her before. She saw the indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done, and the inconsistency of his professions with his conduct. She remembered that he had boasted of having no fear of seeing Mr. Darcy -- that Mr. Darcy might leave the country, but that he should stand his ground; yet he had avoided the Netherfield ball the very next week. She remembered also, that till the Netherfield family had quitted the country, he had told his story to no one but herself; but that after their removal, it had been every where discussed; that he had then no reserves, no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy's character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the son.

How differently did every thing now appear in which he was concerned! His attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of views solely and hatefully mercenary; and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at any thing. His behaviour to herself could now have had no tolerable motive; he had either been deceived with regard to her fortune, or had been gratifying his vanity by encouraging the preference which she believed she had most incautiously shewn. Every lingering struggle in his favour grew fainter and fainter; and in farther justification of Mr. Darcy, she could not but allow that Mr. Bingley, when questioned by Jane, had long ago asserted his blamelessness in the affair; that, proud and repulsive as were his manners, she had never, in the whole course of their acquaintance -- an acquaintance which had latterly brought them much together, and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways -- seen any thing that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust -- any thing that spoke him of irreligious or immoral habits. That among his own connections he was esteemed and valued -- that even Wickham had allowed him merit as a brother, and that she had often heard him speak so affectionately of his sister as to prove him capable of some amiable feeling. That had his actions been what Wickham represented them, so gross a violation of every thing right could hardly have been concealed from the world; and that friendship between a person capable of it, and such an amiable man as Mr. Bingley, was incomprehensible.

She grew absolutely ashamed of herself. -- Of neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think, without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd.

"How despicably have I acted!" she cried. -- "I, who have prided myself on my discernment! -- I, who have valued myself on my abilities! who have often disdained the generous candour of my sister, and gratified my vanity, in useless or blameable distrust. -- How humiliating is this discovery! -- Yet, how just a humiliation! -- Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly. -- Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment, I never knew myself."

From herself to Jane -- from Jane to Bingley, her thoughts were in a line which soon brought to her recollection that Mr. Darcy's explanation there had appeared very insufficient; and she read it again. Widely different was the effect of a second perusal. -- How could she deny that credit to his assertions, in one instance, which she had been obliged to give in the other? -- He declared himself to have been totally unsuspicious of her sister's attachment; -- and she could not help remembering what Charlotte's opinion had always been. -- Neither could she deny the justice of his description of Jane. -- She felt that Jane's feelings, though fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency in her air and manner not often united with great sensibility.

When she came to that part of the letter in which her family were mentioned, in terms of such mortifying yet merited reproach, her sense of shame was severe. The justice of the charge struck her too forcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which he particularly alluded, as having passed at the Netherfield ball, and as confirming all his first disapprobation, could not have made a stronger impression on his mind than on hers. The compliment to herself and her sister was not unfelt. It soothed, but it could not console her for the contempt which had been thus self-attracted by the rest of her family; -- and as she considered that Jane's disappointment had in fact been the work of her nearest relations, and reflected how materially the credit of both must be hurt by such impropriety of conduct, she felt depressed beyond any thing she had ever known before.

After wandering along the lane for two hours, giving way to every variety of thought; re-considering events, determining probabilities, and reconciling herself, as well as she could, to a change so sudden and so important, fatigue, and a recollection of her long absence made her at length return home; and she entered the house with the wish of appearing cheerful as usual, and the resolution of repressing such reflections as must make her unfit for conversation.

She was immediately told, that the two gentlemen from Rosings had each called during her absence; Mr. Darcy, only for a few minutes to take leave, but that Colonel Fitzwilliam had been sitting with them at least an hour, hoping for her return, and almost resolving to walk after her till she could be found. -- Elizabeth could but just affect concern in missing him; she really rejoiced at it. Colonel Fitzwilliam was no longer an object. She could think only of her letter.

当达西先生递给伊丽莎白那封信的时候，伊丽莎白如果并没有想到那封信里是重新提出求婚，那她就根本没想到信里会写些什么。既然一看见这样的内容，你可想而知，她当时想要读完这封信的心情是怎样迫切，她的感情上又给引起了多大的矛盾。她读信时的那种心情，简直无法形容。开头读到他居然还自以为能够获得人家的原谅，她就不免吃惊；再读下去，又觉得他处处都是自圆其说，而处处都流露出一种欲盖弥彰的羞惭心情。她一读到他所写的关于当日发生在尼日斐花园的那段事情，就对他的一言一语都存着极大的偏见。她迫不及待地读下去，因此简直来不及细细咀嚼；她每读一句就急于要读下一句因此往往忽略了眼前一句的意思。他所谓她的姐姐对彬格莱本来没有什么情意，这叫她立刻断定他在撒谎；他说那门亲事确确实实存在着那么些糟糕透顶的缺陷，这使她简直气得不想把那封信再读下去。他对于自己的所作所为，丝毫不觉得过意不去，这当然使她无从满意。他的语气真是盛气凌人，丝毫没有悔悟的意思。

读下去读到他关于韦翰先生那一段事情的剖白，她才多少比刚才神态清明一些，其中许多事情和韦翰亲口自述的身世十分相同，假如这些都是真话，那就会把她以前对韦翰的好感一笔勾销，这真是使她更加痛苦，更加心乱。她感到十分惊讶和疑虑，甚至还有几分恐怖。她恨不得把这件事全都当作他捏造出来的，她一次次嚷道：“一定是他在撒谎！这是不可能的！这是荒谬绝伦的谎话！”──她把全信读完以后，几乎连最后的一两页也记不起说些什么了，连忙把它收拾起来，而且口口声声抗议说，决不把它当作一回真事，也决不再去读那封信。

她就这样心烦意乱地往前走，真是千头万绪，不知从哪里想起才好。可是不到半分钟工夫，她又按捺不住，从信封里抽出信来聚精会神地忍痛读着写述韦翰的那几段，逼着自己去玩味每一句话的意思。其中讲到韦翰跟彭伯里的关系的那一段，简直和韦翰自己所说的毫无出入；再说到老达西先生生前对他的好处，信上的话也和韦翰自己所说的话完全符合，虽说她并不知道老达西先生究竟对他好到什么地步。到这里为止，双方所述的情况都可以互相印证，但是当她读到遗嘱问题的时候，两个人的话就大不相同了。韦翰说到牧师俸禄的那些话，她还记得清清楚楚；她一想起他那些话，就不免感觉到，他们两个人之间总有一个人说的是假话，于是她一时之间，倒高兴起来了，以为自己这种想法不会有错。接着她又极其仔细地一读再读，读到韦翰借口放弃牧师俸禄从而获得了三千磅一笔款项等等情节的时候，她又不由得犹豫起来。她放下那封信，把每一个情节不偏不倚地推敲了一下，把信中每一句话都仔仔细细考虑了一下，看看是否真有其事，可是这样做也毫无用处。双方都是各执一辞。她只得再往下读。可是愈读愈糊涂；她本以为这件事任凭达西先生怎样花言巧语，颠倒是非，也丝毫不能减轻他自己的卑鄙无耻，哪里想得到这里面大有文章可做，只要把事情改变一下说法，达西先生就可以把责任推卸得一干二净。

达西竟毫不迟疑地把骄奢淫逸的罪名加在韦翰先生身上，这使她极其惊骇──何况她又提不出反证，于是就越发惊骇。在韦翰先生参加某某郡的民兵团之前，伊丽莎白根本没有听到过他这个人。至于他所以要参加民兵团，也只是因为偶然在镇上遇见了以前一个泛泛之交的朋友，劝他加入的。讲到他以前的为人处世，除了他自己所说的以外，她完全一无所知。至于他的真正的人品，她即使可以打听得到，也并没有想要去追根究底。他的仪态音容，叫人一眼看去就觉得他身上具备了一切美德。她竭力要想起一两件足以说明他品行优良的事实，想起他一些为人诚实仁爱的特性，使达西先生所指责的诽谤可以不攻自破，至少也可以使他的优点遮盖得住他偶然的过失。她所谓他的偶然过失，都是针对达西先生所指责的连年来的懒惰和恶习而说的，可惜她就想不出他这样的一些好处来。她眨下眼睛就可以看到他出现在她面前，风采翩翩，辞令优雅，但是，除了邻里的赞赏之外，除了他用交际手腕在伙伴之间赢得的敬慕之外，她可想不起他有什么更具体的优点。她思考了好一会儿以后，又继续读信。可是天哪！接下去就读到他对达西小姐的企图，这只要想一想昨天上午她跟费茨威廉上校的谈话，不就是可以证实了吗？信上最后要她把每一个细节都问问费茨威廉上校本人，问问他是否真有其事。以前她就曾经听费茨威廉上校亲自说起过，他对他表兄达西的一切事情都极其熟悉，同时她也没有理由去怀疑费茨威廉的人格。她一度几乎下定了决心要去问他，但是问起这件事不免又要有多少别扭，想到这里，她便把这个主意暂时搁了下来。后来她又想到，如果达西拿不准他表弟的话会和他自己完全一致，那他决不会冒冒失失提出这样一个建议，于是她就干脆打消了这个主意。

那个下午她跟韦翰先生在腓力普先生家里第一次见面所谈的话，现在都能一五一十地记得清清楚楚。他许许多多话到现在还活灵活现地出现在她的记忆里。于是她突然想到他跟一个陌生人讲这些话是多么冒昧，她奇怪自己以前为什么这样疏忽。她发觉他那样自称自赞，是多么有失体统，而且他又是多么言行不符。她记起了他曾经夸称他自己并不是怕看到达西先生，又说达西先生要走就走，他可决不肯离开此地；然而，下一个星期在尼日斐花园开的舞会，他毕竟没有敢去。她也还记得在尼日斐花园那人家没有搬走以前，他从来没跟另外一个人谈起过他自己的身世，可是那家人家一搬走以后，这件事就到处议论纷纷了。虽然他曾经向她说过，为了尊重达西的先父，他老是不愿意揭露那位少爷的过错，可是他毕竟还是肆无忌惮，毫不犹疑地在破坏达西先生的人格。

凡是有关他的事情，怎么这样前后悬殊！他向金小姐献殷勤一事，现在看来，也完全是从金钱着眼，这实在可恶；金小姐的钱并不多，可是这并不能说明他欲望不高，却只能证实他一见到钱就起贪心。他对待她自己的动机也不见得好；不是他误会她很有钱，就是为了要搏得她的欢心来满足他自己的虚荣；只怪她自己不小心，竟让他看出了她对他有好感。她越想越觉得他一无可取，她禁不住又想起当初吉英向彬格莱先生问起这事时，彬格莱先生说，达西先生在这件事情上毫无过失，于是她更觉得达西有理了。尽管达西的态度傲慢可厌，可是从他们认识以来（特别是最近他们时常见面，她对他的行为作风更加熟悉）她从来没有见过他有什么品行不端或是蛮不讲理的地方，没有看见过他有任何违反教义或是伤风败俗的恶习；他的亲友们都很尊敬他，器重他，连韦翰也承认他不愧为一个好哥哥，她还常常听到达西爱抚备至地说起他自己的妹妹，这说明他还是具有亲切的情感。假使达西的所作所为当真象韦翰说的那样坏，那么，他种种胡作非为自难掩尽天下人的耳目；以一个为非作歹到这样地步的人，竟会跟彬格莱先生那样一个好人交成朋友，真是令人不可思议。

她越想越惭愧得无地自容。不论想到达西也好，想到韦翰也好，她总是觉得自己以往未免太盲目，太偏心，对人存了偏见，而且不近情理。

她不禁大声叫道：“我做得多么卑鄙！我一向自负有知人之明！我一向自以为有本领！一向看不起姐姐那种宽大的胸襟！为了满足我自己的虚荣心，我待人老是不着边际地猜忌多端，而且还要做得使我自己无懈可击。这是我多么可耻的地方！可是，这种耻辱又是多么活该！即使我真的爱上了人家，也不会盲目到这样该死的地步。然而我的愚蠢，并不是在恋爱方面，而是有虚荣心方面。开头刚刚认识他们两位的时候，一个喜欢我，我很高兴，一个怠慢我，我就生气，因此造成了我的偏见和无知，遇到与他们有关的事情，我就不能明辨是非。我到现在才算不了自知之明。”

她从自己身上想到吉英身上，又从吉英身上想到彬格莱身上，她的思想联成了一条直线，使她立刻想起了达西先生对这件事的解释非常不够；于是她又把他的信读了一遍。第二遍读起来效果就大不相同了。她既然在一件事情上不得不信任他，在另一件事上又怎能不信任呢？他说他完全没想到她姐姐对彬格莱先生有意思，于是她不禁想起了从前夏绿蒂一贯的看法。她也不能否认他把吉英形容得很恰当。她觉得吉英虽然爱心炽烈，可是表面上却不露形迹，她平常那种安然自得的神气，实在叫人看不出她的多愁善感。

当她读到他提起她家里人的那一段时，其中措辞固然伤人感情，然而那一番责难却也入情入理，于是她越发觉得惭愧。那真是一针见血的指责，使她否认不得；他特别指出，尼日斐花园建交舞会上的种种情形，是第一次造成他反对这门婚姻的原因──老实说，那种情形固然使他难以忘怀，自己也同样难以忘怀。

至于他对她自己和对她姐姐的恭维，她也不是无动于中。她听了很舒服，可是她并没有因此而感到安慰，因为她家里人不争气，招来他的訾议，并不能从恭维中得到补偿。她认为吉英的失望完全是自己的至亲骨肉一手造成的，她又想到，她们两姐妹的优点也一定会因为至亲骨肉的行为失检而受到损害，想到这里，她感到从来没有过的沮丧。

她沿着小路走了两个钟头，前前后后地左思右想，又把好多事情重新考虑了一番，判断一下是否确有其事。这一次突然的变更，实在事关紧要，她得尽量面对事实。她现在觉得疲倦了，又想到出来已久，应该回去了；她希望走进屋子的时候脸色能象平常一样愉快，又决计把那些心思抑制一下，免得跟人家谈起话来态度不自然。

回到屋子里，人家立刻告诉她说，在她出外的当儿，罗新斯的两位先生都来看过她了，达西先生是来辞行的，只待了几分钟就走了，费茨威廉上校却跟她们在一起坐了足足一个钟头，盼望着她回来，几乎想要跑出去找到她才肯罢休。伊丽莎白虽然表面上装出很惋惜的样子，内心里却因为没有见到这位访客而感到万分高兴。她心目中再也没有费茨威廉了，她想到的只有那封信。