pride and prejudice

Chapter one

     It  is  a  truth  universally  acknowledged,  that  a  single  man  in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However  little  known  the  feelings  or  views  of  such  a  man may  be  on  his  first  entering  a  neighbourhood,  this  truth  is so  well  fixed  in  the  minds  of  the  surrounding  families,  that he  is  considered  the  rightful  property  of  some  one  or  other of their daughters. ‘My  dear  Mr.  Bennet,’  said  his  lady  to  him  one  day,  ‘have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?’ Mr. Bennet replied that he had not. ‘But  it  is,’  returned  she;  ‘for  Mrs.  Long  has  just  been  here, and she told me all about it.’ Mr. Bennet made no answer. ‘Do  you  not  want  to  know  who  has  taken  it?’  cried  his wife impatiently. ‘YOU  want  to  tell  me,  and  I  have  no  objection  to  hearing it.’ T his was invitation enough. ‘Why,  my  dear,  you  must  know,  Mrs.  Long  says  that Netherfield  is  taken  by  a  young  man  of  large  fortune  from the  north  of  England;  that  he  came  down  on  Monday  in  a chaise  and  four  to  see  the  place,  and  was  so  much  delighted with  it,  that  he  agreed  with  Mr.  Morris  immediately;  that he  is  to  take  possession  before  Michaelmas,  and  some  of  his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week.’ ‘What is his name?’ ‘Bingley.’ ‘Is he married or single?’ ‘Oh!  Single,  my  dear,  to  be  sure!  A  single  man  of  large fortune;  four  or  five  thousand  a  year.  What  a  fine  thing  for our girls!’ ‘How so? How can it affect them?’ ‘My  dear  Mr.  Bennet,’  replied  his  wife,  ‘how  can  you  be so  tiresome!  You  must  know  that  I  am  thinking  of  his  marrying one of them.’ ‘Is that his design in settling here?’ ‘Design!  Nonsense,  how  can  you  talk  so!  But  it  is  very likely  that  he  MAY  fall  in  love  with  one  of  them,  and  therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes.’ ‘I  see  no  occasion  for  that.  You  and  the  girls  may  go,  or you  may  send  them  by  themselves,  which  perhaps  will  be still  better,  for  as  you  are  as  handsome  as  any  of  them,  Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party.’ ‘My  dear,  you  flatter  me.  I  certainly  HAVE  had  my  share of  beauty,  but  I  do  not  pretend  to  be  anything  extraordinary  now.  When  a  woman  has  five  grown-up  daughters,  she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.’ ‘In  such  cases,  a  woman  has  not  often  much  beauty  to think of.’ ‘But,  my  dear,  you  must  indeed  go  and  see  Mr.  Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood.’ ‘It is more than I engage for, I assure you.’ ‘But  consider  your  daughters.  Only  think  what  an  establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas  are  determined  to  go,  merely  on  that  account,  for  in general,  you  know,  they  visit  no  newcomers.  Indeed  you must  go,  for  it  will  be  impossible  for  US  to  visit  him  if  you do not.’ ‘You  are  over-scrupulous,  surely.  I  dare  say  Mr.  Bingley  will  be  very  glad  to  see  you;  and  I  will  send  a  few  lines by  you  to  assure  him  of  my  hearty  consent  to  his  marrying whichever  he  chooses  of  the  girls;  though  I  must  throw  in  a good word for my little Lizzy.’ ‘I  desire  you  will  do  no  such  thing.  Lizzy  is  not  a  bit  better than  the  others;  and  I  am  sure  she  is  not  half  so  handsome as  Jane,  nor  half  so  good-humoured  as  Lydia.  But  you  are always giving HER the preference.’ ‘They  have  none  of  them  much  to  recommend  them,’  replied  he;  ‘they  are  all  silly  and  ignorant  like  other  girls;  but Lizzy has something more of quickness than her sisters.’ ‘Mr.  Bennet,  how  CAN  you  abuse  your  own  children  in such  a  way?  You  take  delight  in  vexing  me.  You  have  no compassion for my poor nerves.’ ‘You  mistake  me,  my  dear.  I  have  a  high  respect  for  your nerves.  They  are  my  old  friends.  I  have  heard  you  mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least.’ Mr.  Bennet  was  so  odd  a  mixture  of  quick  parts,  sarcastic  humour,  reserve,  and  caprice,  that  the  experience  of three-and-twenty  years  had  been  insufficient  to  make  his wife  understand  his  character.  HER  mind  was  less  difficult to  develop.  She  was  a  woman  of  mean  understanding,  little information,  and  uncertain  temper.  When  she  was  discontented,  she  fancied  herself  nervous.  The  business  of  her  life was  to  get  her  daughters  married;  its  solace  was  visiting  and news.