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.
Regardless of his intentions upon moving into a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that such a gentleman is considered the rightful property of at least one of their daughters.
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his wife to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park has been rented at last?”
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
“But it is,” returned she. “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.
“My dear, Netherfield has been taken by a young man of large fortune from northern England. He came down on Monday and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately. He is to take possession before the end of September, 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. What a fine thing for our girls!”
“How so? How can it affect them?”
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how tiresome you can be! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”
“Is that his intention in settling here?”
“Intention! Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of our daughters, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes.”
“I see no occasion for that,” he replied. “You and the girls may go and, since you are as handsome as any of them, Mr. Bingley might 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 up thinking of her own beauty.”
“Often, in such cases, a woman has not much beauty to think of.”
“But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood.”
After all, the Bennets, who lived in a large house named Longbourn, were the most respectable family in the village.
She added, “Consider your daughters, Mr. Bennet. Think what stability it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are going, on behalf of their daughter Charlotte. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him unless you visit first.”
“You are overly attentive to manners. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you, and I will send along a short letter to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever of the girls he chooses--though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.”
“You will do no such thing. Elizabeth is not a bit better than the others, and I am sure she is not half as handsome as Jane, nor half as good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving Elizabeth the preference.”
“None of them have 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 way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion on 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 concern these past twenty years.”
“Ah! You do not know what I suffer.”
“But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many wealthy young men 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 such an odd mixture of sarcastic humour, reserve, and unpredictability, that after twenty-three years of marriage, his wife could still not understand his character.
Her mind, however, was less difficult to understand. She was a woman of small intelligence, little information, and uncertain mood. When she was unhappy, she imagined herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its source of comfort was visiting and news.


Chapter 2

Mr. Bennet was among the first who visited Mr. Bingley. He had always intended to, though always assuring his wife that he would not go. And till the evening after the visit was paid, she had no knowledge of it.
It was then disclosed in the following manner. Observing his second daughter Elizabeth trying on a hat, he suddenly addressed her with, “I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”
“We cannot know what Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother resentfully, “since we are not able to visit.”
“But you forget, Mama,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the ball, and that Mrs. Long has promised to introduce him.”
“I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no good opinion of her.”
“Nor have I,” said Mr. Bennet, “and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her helping you.”
Mrs. Bennet did not lower herself by replying. But unable to contain herself, she began scolding one of her daughters:
“Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for heaven's sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”
“Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father.
“I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty fretfully.
“When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”
“A fortnight after tomorrow.”
“So it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not return till the day before. So it will be impossible for her to introduce Mr. Bingley to us, for she does not yet know him herself.”
“Then, my dear,” said her husband, “you may have the advantage over Mrs. Long, and introduce Mr. Bingley to her.”
“Impossible, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself. How can you be so teasing?”
“True,” said Mr. Bennet, “a fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man is really like in two weeks. But if we do not introduce Mrs. Long to Mr. Bingley, somebody else will. After all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must get their chance, and therefore, as an act of kindness, I will make the introduction myself.”
The girls stared at their father.
Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense, nonsense!”
“Do you consider proper introductions as nonsense?” cried he. “I cannot quite agree with you there. What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, and read great books.”
Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.
“While Mary is forming her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr. Bingley.”
“I am sick of Mr. Bingley!” cried his wife.
“I am sorry to hear that--but why did you not tell me so before? If I had known as much this morning, I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky. But as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now.”
The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished--Mrs. Bennet’s surpassing the rest--though after the uproar of joy was over, she declared that she had expected it all the while.
“How good of you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I would persuade you at last. I was sure you loved our girls too well to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! And it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it till now.”
“Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet. As he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.
“What an excellent father you have, girls,” said their mother, when the door was shut.
“I do not know how you will ever repay his kindness--or me either, for that matter. At our age, I can tell you it is not so pleasant to be making new acquaintances every day; but for your sakes, we would do anything. Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball.”
“Oh!” said Lydia stoutly. “I am not afraid, for though I am the youngest, I'm the tallest.”
The rest of the evening was spent guessing how soon Mr. Bingley would return their father’s visit, and determining when they should ask Mr. Bingley to dinner.


Chapter 3

Despite all the questions that Mrs. Bennet and her five daughters asked about Mr. Bingley, they could not gather from Mr. Bennet any satisfactory description of their new neighbour. They had to settle for second-hand intelligence from their neighbour Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable.
Mr. Bingley was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable and, to crown the whole, he planned to attend the next ball with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love, and Mrs. Bennet entertained very lively hopes for Mr. Bingley’s heart.
“If I can see but one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well-married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”
A few days later, Mr. Bingley politely returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in the library. Mr. Bingley had hoped to catch a glimpse of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much, but he saw only the father.
The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage, from an upper window, of seeing that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.
The Bennets soon afterward sent Mr. Bingley an invitation to dinner, and already Mrs. Bennet had planned the courses that would impress him, when an answer arrived. Regrettably, Mr. Bingley had to be in London the following day, and consequently was unable to accept the honour of their invitation.
Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business Mr. Bingley could have in London so soon after his arrival, and she began to fear that he might always fly about from one place to another, and never settle at Netherfield.
Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little by suggesting that he had gone to London only to get a large party together for the ball--and a report soon followed that, indeed, Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly.
The Bennet girls grieved over such a large number of ladies, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing that, instead of twelve ladies, he had brought only six with him from London--his five sisters and a cousin.

* * *

The evening of the ball came and, when Mr. Bingley entered the assembly room, his party consisted of only four besides himself: Two of his sisters, his brother-in-law Mr. Hurst, and another young man--Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike, and he had a pleasant face and easy, unaffected manners. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked like any other gentleman.
But his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the entire room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble bearing, and the report--which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance--of his having a large fortune.
The gentlemen at the ball pronounced Mr. Darcy to be a fine figure of a man, and the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley.
Mr. Darcy was looked upon with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners turned the tide of his popularity--for he was discovered to be proud, to hold himself above everyone else, and above being pleased in any way. And so, not even his large estate in Derbyshire could save him from his disagreeable personality, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend Mr. Bingley.
Mr. Bingley soon acquainted himself with all the principal people in the room. He was lively and unreserved, danced every dance, was angry that the ball closed so early, and talked of giving one himself at Netherfield.
Such amiable qualities he had, and what a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mr. Bingley’s two sisters, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party of three.
His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and everybody hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent people against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of him was sharpened into particular resentment after he slighted her daughter Elizabeth.
Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged to sit down for two dances, due to the scarcity of gentlemen. During part of that time, she overheard a conversation between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, both of whom had been standing nearby.
“Come, Darcy,” said Mr. Bingley, “You must dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner.”
“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest dancing, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. Your sisters are presently engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to dance with.”
“Upon my honour,” cried Bingley, “I never met so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening--and several of them are uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Bennet daughter, Jane.
“Oh, yes! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But her sister, Elizabeth, who is sitting down just behind you, is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me have Jane introduce you to her.”
“Which do you mean?” he asked, and turning round, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, caught her eye, then withdrew and coldly said, “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me--and I am in no humour to pay attention to young ladies who are ignored by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
Mr. Bingley followed his advice and Mr. Darcy walked off. Elizabeth remained with no cordial feelings towards him. She told the story with great spirit, however, to her friends, for she had a lively, playful disposition which delighted in anything ridiculous.
The evening altogether passed pleasantly for the Bennets. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party--Mr. Bingley had danced twice with Jane, and she had been admired by his sisters. Jane was as much gratified by this as her mother could be, though in a quieter way. Elizabeth felt Jane’s pleasure.
Mary had heard herself mentioned to Miss Bingley as the most accomplished girl in the neighbourhood; and Catherine and Lydia had been fortunate enough to never be without dancing partners, which was all that they cared for at a ball.

* * *

The Bennets returned to Longbourn, therefore, in good spirits. They found Mr. Bennet still up, with a book, in spite of the late hour; he had a good deal of curiosity about an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that his wife would be disappointed in her opinion of Mr. Bingley, but he soon found that he had a very different story to hear.
“Oh! my dear Mr. Bennet,” as she entered the room, “we have had a most delightful evening, a most excellent ball. I wish you had been there. Jane was so admired, nothing could compare. Everybody said how well she looked, and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice. Think of that, my dear! He actually danced with her twice, and she was the only creature in the room that he asked a second time.
“First he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him dance with her, but he did not admire her at all--indeed, nobody can, you know. And he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was dancing, so he inquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her for the next two. Then the next two he danced with Miss King, and the next two with Maria Lucas, and the next two with Jane again, and the next two with Lizzy, and the Boulanger--”
“If Mr. Bingley had had any compassion for me,” cried her husband impatiently, “he would not have danced half so much! For God’s sake, say no more of his partners. Oh! That he had sprained his ankle in the first dance!”
“Oh! my dear,” continued Mrs. Bennet, “I am quite delighted with him. He is so excessively handsome! And his sisters are charming women. I never in my life saw anything more elegant than their dresses. I dare say the lace upon Mrs. Hurst’s gown--”
Here she was interrupted again. Mr. Bennet protested against any description of finery. She was therefore obliged to change the subject, and related with much bitterness and some exaggeration the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.
“But I can assure you,” she added, “that Elizabeth does not lose much by not suiting his fancy, for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing, so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Lizzy not handsome enough to dance with, indeed! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your put downs. I quite detest the man!”

  Jane Austen’s 1813 masterpiece traces the intricacies of Regency England mating rituals, as Mrs. Bennet hopes to find rich husbands for her five penniless daughters. Mr. Bingley, a man of good fortune, is easily charmed by Jane, but Mr. Darcy’s excessive pride offends Elizabeth. This delightful romp is full of romantic misunderstandings, rejected proposals, disastrous elopements, and happy endings for those who deserve them.


W A Y N E    J O S E P H S O N

Readable Classics gently edits the works of great literature, retaining their original voices, to make them more enjoyable and less frustrating for modern readers.
Readable Classics gently edits great works of literature to provide study aids
for students and make the classics less frustrating for modern readers.