The part which I acted is now to be explained. -- His sisters' uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortlyresolved on joining him directly in London. -- We accordingly went -- and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my friend, the certain evils of such a choice. -- I described, and enforced them earnestly. -- But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister's indifference. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, regard. -- But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgment than on his own. -- To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment. -- I cannot blame myself for having done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct in the whole affair, on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley, but her brother is even yet ignorant of it. -- That they might have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable; -- but his regard did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger. -- Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me. -- It is done, however, and it was done for the best. -- On this subject I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister's feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn them. --
我得在这里把我当初参与这件事的经过说明一
下。原来他的姐妹们当时跟我一样,深为这件
事感到不安。我们立刻发觉了彼此有同感,都
觉得应该赶快到伦敦去把她们这位兄弟隔离起
来,于是决定立刻动身。我们就这样走了。到
了那里,便由我负责向我朋友指出,他如果攀
上了这门亲事,必定有多少多少坏处。我苦口
婆心,再三劝说。我这一番规劝虽然动摇了他
的心愿,使他迟疑不决,可是,我当时要不是
那么十拿九稳地说,你姐姐对他并没有什么倾
心,那么这番规劝也许不会发生这样大的效力
,这门婚姻到头来也许终于阻档不了住。在我
没有进行这番劝说以前,他总以为令姐即使没
有以同样的钟情报答他,至少也是在竟诚期待
着他。但是彬格莱先生天性谦和,遇到任何事
情,只要我一出主意,他总是相信我胜过相信
他自己。我轻而易举地说服了他,使他相信这
事情是他自己一时糊涂。他既然有了这个信念
,我们便进一步说服他不要回到哈福德郡去,
这当然不费吹灰之力。我这样做,自己并没觉
得有什么不对。今天回想起来,我觉得只有一
件事做得不能叫自己安心,那就是说,令姐来
到城里的时候,我竟不择手段,把这个消息瞒
住了他。这件事不但我知道,彬格莱小姐也知
道,然而她哥哥一直到现在还蒙在鼓里。要是
让他们俩见了面,可能也不会有坏的后果,可
是我当时认为他并没有完全死心,见到她未必
能免于危险。我这样隐瞒,这样欺蒙,也许失
掉了我自己的身份。然而事情已经做了,而且
完全是出于一片好意。关于这件事,我没有什
么可以再说的了,也无用再道歉,如果我伤了
令姐的心,也是出于无意;你自然会以为我当
初这样做,理由不够充足,可是我到现在还没
有觉得有什么不对。
With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he has particularly accused me, I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates; and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his god-son, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge; -- most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman's education. My father was not only fond of this young man's society, whose manners were always engaging; he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities -- the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall give you pain -- to what degree you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might allow, and, if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of one thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine, and within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment by which he could not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished than believed him to be sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretence, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutelyresolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living in question -- of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, and I could not have forgotten my revered father's