Elizabeth awoke the next morning to the same thoughts and meditations which had at length closed her eyes. She could not yet recover from the surprise of what had happened; it was impossible to think of any thing else, and, totally indisposed for employment, she resolved soon after breakfast to indulge herself in air and exercise. She was proceeding directly to her favourite walk, when the recollection of Mr. Darcy's sometimes coming there stopped her, and instead of entering the park, she turned up the lane which led her farther from the turnpike road. The park paling was still the boundary on one side, and she soon passed one of the gates into the ground.
After walking two or three times along that part of the lane, she was tempted, by the pleasantness of the morning, to stop at the gates and look into the park. The five weeks which she had now passed in Kent had made a great difference in the country, and every day was adding to the verdure of the early trees. She was on the point of continuing her walk, when she caught a glimpse of a gentleman within the sort of grove which edged the park; he was moving that way; and fearful of its being Mr. Darcy, she was directly retreating. But the person who advanced was now near enough to see her, and stepping forward with eagerness, pronounced her name. She had turned away, but on hearing herself called, though in a voice which proved it to be Mr. Darcy, she moved again towards the gate. He had by that time reached it also, and holding out a letter, which she instinctively took, said with a look of haughty composure, "I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?" -- And then, with a slight bow, turned again into the plantation, and was soon out of sight.
With no expectation of pleasure, but with the strongest curiosity, Elizabeth opened the letter, and, to her still increasing wonder, perceived an envelope containing two sheets of letter paper, written quite through, in a very close hand. -- The envelope itself was likewise full. -- Pursuing her way along the lane, she then began it. It was dated from Rosings, at eight o'clock in the morning, and was as follows: --
"Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.
Two offences of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley from your sister; -- and the other, that I had, in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity, and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham. -- Wilfully and wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought up to expect its exertion, would be a depravity to which the separation of two young persons, whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could bear no comparison. -- But from the severity of that blame which was last night so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope to be in future secured, when the following account of my actions and their motives has been read. -- If, in the explanation of them which is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be offensive to your's, I can only say that I am sorry. -- The necessity must be obeyed -- and farther apology would be absurd. -- I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley preferred your eldest sister to any other young woman in the country. -- But it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment. -- I had often seen him in love before. -- At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas's accidental information, that Bingley's attentions to your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I observed my friend's behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I also watched. -- Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard, and I remained convinced from the evening's scrutiny, that though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation of sentiment. -- If you have not been mistaken here, I must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable. -- If it be so, if I have been misled by such error, to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched. -- That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain, -- but I will venture to say that my investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears. -- I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it; -- I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason. -- My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last night acknowledged to have required the utmost force of passion to put aside in my own case; the want of connection could not be so great an evil to my friend as to me. -- But there were other causes of repugnance; -- causes which, though still existing, and existing to an equal degree in both instances, I had myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not immediately before me. -- These causes must be stated, though briefly. -- The situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison of that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly, betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father. -- Pardon me. -- It pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it is honourable to the sense and disposition of both. -- I will only say farther that, from what passed that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every inducement heightened, which could have led me before to preserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection. -- He left Netherfield for London, on the day following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning. --
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 shortly resolved 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. --
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 absolutely resolved 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 intentions. You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition of 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. After this period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropt. How he lived I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded 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 guardianship 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; and 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. Younge, 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 elopement. 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 elopement; 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. Regard for my sister's credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham's chief object was unquestionably my sister's fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging 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, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not, perhaps, to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of every thing 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 every thing here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who 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 confiding 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."
--正文
第二天早上，伊丽莎白一醒来就想起之前的事情，想到最后她还是闭上了眼睛。她还是陷在之前发生的事情中，惊讶到无法自拔。她无法想任何其它事情，身体也不舒服感觉做不了事情，所以一吃过早饭，她就决定出去换换气，再锻炼锻炼身体。她很快就走去自己最喜欢的小路，达西的事情还时不时闪过心头，以至于她走走停停，她没有向庄园那边走，反而向着小路越走越远。庄园的围栏还在路的一边遮挡着，她很快就穿过一扇门走到了开阔地里面。
在小路离来回走了两三遍后，因为清晨确实让人舒适，她忍不住在门口停了下来，朝庄园里面望去。她现在已经在肯特郡待五个星期了，村里应该已经大变样了，而树木每一天都变得更青翠起来。她正要接着散步的时候，突然看到庄园旁边的小树丛里站着个男人。他正往庄园的边上走。因为害怕这是达西，伊丽莎白立刻掉头走。但是这个往这边走的男人已经近到能看到她了，因此他匆忙地走了过来，叫了伊丽莎白的名字。伊丽莎白当时已经转过身来，但是听到有人叫自己，而且声音一听就是达西，她就又朝着门走去。这时候达西已经追上了她，并伸手给了她一封信，伊丽莎白立刻收了。达西高傲又冷静得说：“我最近老在这附近转悠，就是希望能遇到你。你能赏脸读下我这封信吗？”话说完后，他微微欠身，就转身向庄园里走去，很快就看不到了。
并没有任何欣喜，但是充满了好奇地，伊丽莎白打开了这封信，里面有两张纸，字写得密密麻麻的，信封上也一样写满了字，这让伊丽莎白更加好奇。她就一边走在小路上，一边读着信，信上注明是早上八点在罗星庄园写的，内容如下：“
夫人，收到这封信时请不要紧张，这封信里不会有昨晚让你那么恶心的表白了，恳请你不要惊慌。之前我希望你我都能够幸福，这事一时半会也忘不了，但我并不会再沉浸于此让你遭受煎熬，也让我。我之所以一定要写这封信，也要你去读，无非是我的性格所限，否则我大可不必费这些波折。请你一定给予我这种权利，好好读这封信。我知道感情上你是不愿意的，但是我要求你给予我公正的评价。
昨晚你把两件性质完全不同，重要程度完全不等的指责横加于我。第一项指责是我完全忽视双方的感情，强行把宾利和你姐姐分开。另一件指责是我无视众人指责，无视荣誉和人性，毁掉了维克汉姆当下的富贵，摧毁了他的前途。
你指责我蓄意抛弃我童年的好友，众所周知的我父亲最喜欢的人 ，一个除了牧师一职没有其它依靠的年轻人，一个被专门培养做我家牧师一职的人。这相比于拆散一对青年男女，确实算是严重一些，这对青年男女无非只认识几个星期，这两件事是没法相比的。但是鉴于你昨晚对我指责的严重程度，以及考虑到各种情况，我希望你读完以下我对自己行为和他们动机的解释之后，将来能够不再指责我。如果因为我在解释的过程中，不可避免得说了一些顶撞你的话，我只能说很抱歉。这种情况无法避免，如果再进一步道歉就很荒诞了。和其他人一样，我到赫特福德没多久，就发现整个镇子上宾利就喜欢你大姐。但是直到耐热屯的舞会上面，我才害怕宾利好像是动真情了。我之前老见他爱上别人。就在我有幸与你跳舞的那天晚上，从威廉姆.卢卡斯爵士那儿，我才偶然发现宾利对你姐姐的喜欢，让别人都觉得他们会结婚。他当时说得好像是板上钉钉一样，只是时间的问题。就是从那一刻起，我才开始关注自己朋友的行为。然后我就发现，宾利对简的喜爱是我从没有见过的。我也观察过你姐姐。她的长相，举止无疑是大方，欣喜，惹人喜爱的，但是我并没有看出任何关心的样子。晋国那晚的仔细观察，我仍然确信——尽管你姐姐欣然接受宾利的殷勤，但是她并没有用感情报答他。在这件事情上，要么是你错，要么就是我错。你对你姐姐更加了解，所以更可能是我错了。如果事实确实是这样，如果我被自己的判断误导了，以至于给了她痛苦，那么你对我的憎恶不是没有理由的。但是我有理由断定：你姐姐冷淡的表情和举止，可能会给最敏锐的观察者这种印象——不管她的脾气多么好，但是她的心是不容易被打动的。我确实是倾向于认为她是冷漠的人，但是我敢说自己的观察和结论，是不会受到自己的倾向或者恐惧所影响的。我不是因为希望她冷漠而认为她冷漠的。我相信这一点是依据自己公正的判断，就像我期待理性。我昨晚说了，像我自己这种门户不对的婚姻，需要花费极大的努力才能克服困难走到一起。但是我反对他们这桩婚事，还有其他原因。跟我一样，宾利并不太在意家庭条件。但是有些其它问题让我们不太舒服，这些问题目前仍然存在，而且在我们两人的事情同样存在。因为这些问题眼前看不见，所以我也在努力忘记。这些问题我必须要简短地跟你说一下。你母亲那边的家庭尽管让人反感（翻译官：还真直说啊，这人要看完原谅你有鬼咯。。），但是跟你们一家子缺少教养相比，还真不算什么。跟商量好了似的，你姐姐，你三个妹妹，有时候甚至是你爹。请原谅我，我不想冒犯你。但是在你想着为自己家人缺点辩护的时候，在你看到这样的描述而不开心得时候，请这么想：你们姐妹俩从没被人这么说过，这也是在夸奖你们有见识，性格好，这样想是不是好受多了。我只能说到这儿：根据那晚发生的事情，我对于整个舞会上的人看法都已经确定了，对于他们的偏见也越来越深，这只能让我保护宾利远离不幸婚姻的折磨。第二天他离开耐热屯去了伦敦，我相信你也知道，他是打算很快回来的。
我现在就跟你解释我参与的部分。宾利的姐姐跟我一样，对这件事感觉都不太好。我们很快就发现双方意见一致，我们也同样意识到让宾利离开刻不容缓，所以很快就决定赶去伦敦和他会和。然后我们就去了。由我来跟我宾利说这件事，我轻而易举得跟他指出这桩婚事的缺点。我详细跟他说明了情况，并且恳切地反复劝说。但是无论这些抱怨如何让他迟疑、拖延他的决定，要不是我毫不犹豫地再次跟他说明你姐姐对他不上心，我不认为最终能阻止这桩婚姻。他之前认为简对他的殷勤报以真心，就算没有真心，最起码也是关心这件事的。但是宾利这个人天生没有主见，相比于他自己的观点，他更愿意相信我的。因此，使他相信之前是自己自欺欺人并不是什么难事。当我说出简对他并不上心的时候，劝他不要回赫特福德就是一瞬间的事情。我做的这些事情，并不让我觉得后悔。但是我确实做了件自己不太满意的事情。那就是我自降身份，耍了手段，故意不让宾利知道你姐姐来镇上了（翻译官：也就是伦敦）。这事我知道，宾利小姐也知道，但是他弟弟却一无所知。他们见面再旧情复燃，还是很可能的。我觉得宾利对于简并没有完全死心，再见她还是挺危险的。也许我故意隐瞒是失了自己的身份。但我是为了宾利好才这么做的。对于这件事情我没有什么可说的了，也不会再道歉了。如果我伤害了你姐姐的感情，那也是无心造成的。也许我的这些动机在你看来是完全不成立的，但是我自己并不会自责。
至于另外一件更严重的指责——我伤害了维克汉姆，我只能告诉你他和我们家全部的恩怨，以作反驳。他具体指责了我什么，我并不清楚。但对于我说的事实，我可以找到不止一个无比诚实的证人替我作证。维克汉姆的父亲是一个可敬的人，他为我家管理了很多年的彭伯里的地产。他品行良好，自然让我父亲愿意帮他的忙。乔治.维克汉姆是我父亲的教子，他对维克汉姆恩宠有加。我父亲供他上学，后来又送到了剑桥去上学，这是十分重要的帮助，他亲爹因为老婆挥霍无度，而无力支持他接受高等教育。我父亲不止喜欢这个年轻人的风度，他的举止也很吸引人。我父亲对他有很高的评价，并希望他能做个牧师，并有意替他安排这份工作。至于我自己，我很早前就对他有点看法。他总是小心地对自己的朋友隐藏自己的那些恶习，道德标准丧失的情况，但是这些逃不过跟他差不多大的我的眼睛。我也见过他原形毕露的样子，但是我父亲是不可能见到的。这儿我可能又要让你难过了，但是到什么程度只有你自己知道了。但是不管维克汉姆让你对他产生了什么感情，我怀疑他别有用心，这也不会阻止我揭发他的真正性格。他其实还有另外一个动机。我的好父亲约五年前去世了。他对维克汉姆的感情始终如一，到了最后他在遗嘱里还推荐我尽快提拔他。而且要是他接受的话，俸禄优厚的位置一有空缺，就由他补上去。此外，还给他提供了一千磅的遗产。他自己的父亲不久也去世了，半年之内发生了那么多事后，维克汉姆写信跟我说，他最终决定不接受这个工作，他希望我能给他些钱，以作失去教职的补偿。他又说想去学法律，而且要我知道一千磅的利息是绝不够学习法律的。我其实不相信他说的真话，但还是抱了点希望。但是不管怎么说，我还是决定接受他的提议。我知道维克汉姆是不可能做牧师的。这件事情很快就这么处理了。就算将来他能接受牧师一职，他也自动放弃权力，我们就拿出了三千磅给他。我们之间的关系现在算是解除了。我实在看不起他，就不再邀请他来彭伯里玩，去镇上也不跟他来往。我觉得他也安心过了段好日子，但是说学法律只是个幌子，现在没有人管着他，他开始大肆挥霍，虚度光阴。大约有三年时间，我都没有他的消息。但是现有的牧师去世之后，他又写信给我希望能继任牧师一职。他跟我说现在的情况很糟，我完全不相信。他发现学法律根本无利可图，所以只要我提供这个职位给他，他会立刻接受。他相信这事没什么问题，他很确信我没有其他人选，而且我也不能忤逆先父的意思。我拒绝了他的请求，而且无论他怎么反复恳求，我也没同意，这事你无法怪我。他的生活有多糟糕，他对我就有多憎恨。他有数次激烈地想要接近我，就像她激烈地跟别人怪罪我一样。过了这个阶段后，我再也不愿意见他。现在他怎么生活我也不知道。但是去年夏天他又强行来打扰我。我现在跟你提的事情，其实我自己都想忘掉，此刻要不是跟你解释，我根本不会跟别人提起。说了这么多，我相信你能保守秘密。我有个妹妹，比我小十来岁，被留给我妈的外甥——菲茨威廉姆上校，和我一起抚养。大约一年前，我们把她从学校带出来到伦敦居住。去年夏天，她跟管家杨太太一起去了拉姆斯盖特。维克汉姆也跟着去了，这自然是有意设计的。因为我们发现他之前就跟杨太太认识，这事我们也被蒙在鼓里。就是通过杨太太的纵然和帮助，维克汉姆才成功向乔治安娜求爱，我妹妹一直是个热心肠，她记得从小维克汉姆对她很好，竟然以为已经坠了爱河，答应要跟他私奔。她当时只有十五岁，这件事情肯定不能怪她。这事虽然说起来鲁莽，但也是靠她我才知道了内情。在他们商量好的私奔之前一两天，我意外去找了他们。乔治安娜因为无法承受让自己向父亲一样尊敬的哥哥失望、伤心，把整件事情都跟我说了。你可以想象我的感受，和我的处理方法。为了我妹妹的名声和感情，我没有公开这件事，但是我写信给了维克汉姆，他当时就走了，而杨太太也自然被解雇了。维克汉姆的目标肯定是我妹妹的财产，三万磅。但我觉得想要报复我也是他的动机之一吧。他确实差一点就报复成功了。
太太，这就是我们之间所发生事情的忠实记录了。如果你觉得有可信的地方的话，我希望你能撤回对我冷酷对待维克汉姆的指控。我不知道他是通过何种方式，以什么手段欺骗你的。但是也许他不会成功了。其实你之前不了解这其中的是非曲折，也无法验证真伪，自然也不会怀疑。（翻译官：这就是真爱！）你可能在想，为什么我昨晚不把这些事情当面告诉你。我昨晚无法自控，不知道什么事情能说，什么不能说。我说的每件事情，你都可以找菲茨威廉姆上校求证，他跟我们俩关系都近，也是我父亲遗嘱的执行人，而且跟我提到的每个人都认识。如果你因憎恶我而不愿相信我的话，那你总该相信我的表弟吧。因为你可能会找我表弟求证，我今早会找个机会把信送到你手里。我想说的都说完了，上帝保佑你。
菲茨威廉姆.达西
”（翻译官：人家这信写得真优美，恰柠檬了。如果你觉得不好，那是因为我翻译的不好。:) ）
网友评论