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You're built to win it. Welcome to Snewscast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at Snewscast.com and if you enjoy our show, please write a review on the Apple Podcasts app or at podchaser.com slash Snewscast. Thank you to all our listeners who have already written one. This episode is brought to you by General Proficacy. Tonight we shall read the next part of Pride and Pregidus, ridden by Jane Austin. If you'd like to listen to this series in order, please go to snoozecast.com slash series.

In the last episode Darcy waits to find Elizabeth on a walk and gives her a letter of explanation. He answers Elizabeth's charges of misconduct toward both Jane and Wickham. He knew that Bingley was in love with Jane, but he detected no affection on her part, and, given that, thought it unwise for Bingley to become attached to Elizabeth's family with its improprieties and lack of wealth.

In London, he joined with Caroline in convincing Bingley to give up the attachment. Darcy also confesses, with regret, to keeping Bingley from finding out that Jane was in London too. We will pick up in the letter where Darcy starts addressing Mr. Wickham to Elizabeth. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. With respect to that other, more wavy 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 Pemberliest States, 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. 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 1,000 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 performance by which he could not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying law, and I must be aware that the interest of 1,000 pounds would be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished then believed him to be sincere, but at any rate was perfectly ready to assede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The business was there for 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 seems now dissolved. I thought to 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 pretense, 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 deceased 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 And I had no difficulty in believing it. We're exceedingly bad.

Hit. 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 absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living in question, of which he trusted there could 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 intentions. You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this in treaty, or for resisting every repetition to it. His resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances, and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others as in his reproaches to myself. this period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropped.

How he lived, I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully have truited on my notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget

myself and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardian chip of my mother's nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam and myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school and an establishment formed for her in London. Last summer she went with the lady who presided over it to Ramsgate, and Thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design. For there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Young, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived, and by her connivance and aid he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child,

that she was persuaded to believe herself in love and to consent to an allopment. She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse. And after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add that I owed the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended allotment. and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me, you may imagine what I felt and how I acted. for my sister's credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, I wrote to Mr. Wickham who left the place immediately and Mrs. Young was removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham's chief object was unquestionably my sister's fortune, which is 30,000 pounds. But I cannot help supposing that the hope of revinging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed. This madam is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together. And if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, equip me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood he had imposed on you, but his success is not perhaps to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either.

Detection. be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of everything concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion, certainly not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last night, but I was not then

master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of everything here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, from our near relationship and constant intimacy and still more, as one of the executors of my father's will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from conviding in my cousin, and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning.

I will only add, God bless you. Fitzwilliam Darcy Chapter 36

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 well be supposed how eagerly she went through them. And what a contrarity of emotion they excited. Her feelings as she read were scarcely to be defined. With amazement did she first understand that he believed in apology to be in his power, instead vastly 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 everything 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. In 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, in which bore so alarming and

affinity to his own history of himself. Her feelings were yet more recutely 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 anything 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 perruzal of all that related to Wiccom 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 Wiccom 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 air. when she she read and reread with the closest attention, the particulars immediately following of Wicom's resigning all pretensions to the living, of his receiving and loo so considerable as some as 3,000 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 I 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. extravagance and general profligacy, which he scruples not to lay at 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 they ever nude a slight acquaintance. Of his former way of life, nothing had been known, but what he told himself. As to his real character, had information been in her power, she had never felt a wish of inquiring. 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, a tone for those casual errors under which she would endeavor to class what Mr. Darcy had described as the idleness and vice of many years' continuance. 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 neighborhood, 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 cousins 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, holy 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 everything that had passed in conversation between Wicca and herself, in their first evening at Mr. Phillips'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 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 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 discussed everywhere, that he had then no reserves, no scruples in syncing Mr. Darcy's character, though he had assured her that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the sun. How differently did everything now appear in which he was concerned? His attentions to Miss King were now the consequence of view solely and hatefully mercenary, and the mediocrity of her fortune proved no longer the moderation of his wishes, but his eagerness to grasp at anything. His behavior 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 incosuously shown. Every lingering struggle in his favor grew feint her and feint her. 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. And acquaintance, which had laterally brought them much together and given her a sort of intimacy with his ways. Seeing anything that betrayed him to be unprincipled or unjust. Anything 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 Mr. Wickham represented them, so gross violation of everything 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. neither Darcy nor Wickham could she think without feeling she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd. despicably I have acted. She cried, who have prided myself on my discernment. I, who have valued myself on my abilities, who have often disdained the generous candor of my sister, and gratified my vanity in useless or blamable mistrust.

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 pre-possession 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 her to the 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 he had been obliged to give in the other? He declared himself to be 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 for event, were little displayed, and that there Here 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 to forcibly for denial, and the circumstances to which 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 and on hers. you you

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