Chapter 1
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.” This 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.”
“Ah, you do not know what I suffer.”
“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see
many young men of four thousand a year come
into the neighbourhood.”“It will be no use to us,
if twenty such should come, since you will not
visit them.”
“Depend upon it, my dear, that when there
are twenty, I will visit them all.”
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.