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Pride and Prejudice
Mountaineers · 10th–12th
Wickham wins the whole party within minutes of meeting them. Is so good a first impression a reason to trust him, or a reason to wait?
The tension Wickham has “all the best parts of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address”, with a manner “perfectly correct and unassuming”; then he and Darcy see each other and “Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red.”
Quick choices made on looks and report, and one silent meeting in the street that nobody can explain.
The narrator explains Mr. Collins. He is not a sensible man: raised in subjection by an illiterate and miserly father, he passed through a university without making any useful acquaintance, and his early humility has been much offset by self-conceit and by the good luck of being given the living of Hunsford by Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He is a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility. Now that he has a good house and income, he means to marry one of the Bennet daughters, if they are as handsome and amiable as report says; he thinks this his amends for inheriting their father’s estate, and a generous plan. On the first evening Jane is his choice. Before breakfast next morning he tells Mrs. Bennet his hopes, and she, with smiles and encouragement, warns him that her eldest daughter is likely to be very soon engaged. He changes to Elizabeth while Mrs. Bennet stirs the fire, and Mrs. Bennet, hoping now for two daughters married, warms to the man she could not bear to speak of the day before. After breakfast Mr. Collins follows Mr. Bennet into the library and talks without stopping about Hunsford. Mr. Bennet, who expects folly and conceit everywhere in the house but there, promptly invites him to walk to Meryton with the girls; every sister but Mary goes. In Meryton the younger sisters look for officers. A young man none of them has seen, walking with Mr. Denny, catches every lady’s eye; Kitty and Lydia lead the way across the street, and Mr. Denny introduces Mr. Wickham, who has accepted a commission in the corps. He is handsome, with a fine face, a good figure and a pleasing manner, and talks readily and modestly. Darcy and Bingley ride up; Bingley says he was on his way to Longbourn to ask after Jane. Darcy, beginning to resolve not to look at Elizabeth, sees the stranger. Elizabeth sees both men change colour, one white and one red. Mr. Wickham touches his hat; Mr. Darcy barely returns the salute. Mr. Bingley, without seeming to notice, rides on with his friend. Mr. Denny and Mr. Wickham see the girls to their aunt Mrs. Philips’s door and will not come in, though Lydia begs and Mrs. Philips calls from the window. Mrs. Philips welcomes her nieces, is awed by Mr. Collins’s politeness and apologies, and can tell the girls nothing new about Mr. Wickham; to Kitty and Lydia, the officers who pass her window now seem dull beside him. She invites the family for a game of lottery tickets and a hot supper the next evening, and promises that her husband will invite Mr. Wickham too. Walking home, Elizabeth tells Jane what she saw; Jane, who would have defended either man, can explain it no better. At home Mr. Collins pleases Mrs. Bennet by praising Mrs. Philips: apart from Lady Catherine and her daughter he has never seen a more elegant woman, and never in his life met with so much attention.
Begin with the narrator’s portrait of Mr. Collins and read it as a verdict: everything about him is explained, from his father to his living. Read the hint and the change from Jane to Elizabeth aloud, slowly, and let the student hear how little time the change takes. Then walk to Meryton with the party and stop at the meeting in the street. Read it twice, and ask the student to say only what Elizabeth sees, with nothing added. Keep to what the chapter gives: it does not say what lies between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy, or which man turned white and which red, and neither man says a word about the other. Mr. Wickham is only charming here; a student who knows the rest of the book should leave it outside this chapter. Mr. Collins has settled on Elizabeth and nothing more. Mrs. Bennet’s smiling hint is comedy worth enjoying, and the Collins half and the Wickham half are one story about choosing on looks and report. Whether Mr. Wickham’s good first impression is a reason to trust him or to wait belongs to the last written question.
Retell The student retells the chapter in four movements: the narrator’s account of Mr. Collins and his plan; the hint before breakfast and the change from Jane to Elizabeth; the walk, the introduction and the meeting in the street; and Mrs. Philips’s parlour and the walk home. Look for whether the retelling keeps the speed of each choice and reports the meeting in the street as Elizabeth saw it, without explaining it.
Imitate the author After copying, the student writes two short portraits of invented newcomers. The first follows the account of Mr. Collins: one sentence that sets what the person was “originally” against what he or she is “now”, across a semicolon and “but”; then one that opens on a short clause and, after a semicolon and “and”, holds back its main verb behind a long subject, ending on two pairs of opposites. The second follows the first look at Mr. Wickham: a short clause, a semicolon, and a reason opened by “for”; then a clause, a colon, and a second clause in which a general phrase is spelled out by a list of three.
Debate Take sides on the last written question. One side argues that so good a first impression is a reason to trust Mr. Wickham, and gathers the narrator’s own “perfectly correct and unassuming”, Mr. Denny’s introduction, his commission in the corps, and the fact that he is the one who greets first in the street. The other argues that it is a reason to wait, and gathers the minutes it takes to win the party, the officers turned dull “in comparison with the stranger”, Mr. Collins’s equally quick choice by the fire, the change of colour, and the sisters’ failure to explain it. Each side must answer the other’s best line. Neither may say what lies between the two men or bring in what later chapters tell.
Purpose Close on the chapter’s shape. Austen sets one puzzle, the silent meeting in the street, inside a run of quick, confident choices: a bride chosen and changed by the fire, a favourite chosen on the pavement, a few officers turned dull at a window, and an aunt judged elegant for her politeness. Ask what that arrangement asks of a reader who knows no more about Mr. Wickham than Meryton does, and why the chapter ends on Mr. Collins’s delight instead of the mystery.
Easier Read aloud the portrait of Mr. Collins, the hint before breakfast and the meeting in the street. Make two columns for each chooser (Mr. Collins, Mrs. Bennet, the ladies on the pavement, Mrs. Philips at her window): what they know about the person they choose, and how long the choice takes. Talk through the questions on the white and red faces and on Mrs. Philips’s hour of watching, then answer the last written question aloud before writing it.
On level Talk through all six discussion questions in order, then write both written questions as a thesis, the strongest objection and a revised thesis, each with lines from the chapter.
Harder Ask for one argued essay on how Austen arranges this chapter: one unexplained moment set inside a run of quick choices. Use the portrait of Mr. Collins, the change by the fire, Mr. Wickham’s introduction, the meeting in the street and the officers at the window. The essay should meet the objection that the narrator herself praises Mr. Wickham’s manner, and it must not say what lies between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy or bring in later chapters.
1. Mr. Collins will choose one of his cousins if they are as “handsome and amiable” as people say. The marriage is his way to make amends for inheriting their father’s estate. Can amends come with a condition like that?Moral reasoning
What it asks It asks the student to weigh the terms Mr. Collins sets before he has met his cousins. “Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to marry; and in seeking a reconciliation with the Longbourn family he had a wife in view, as he meant to choose one of the daughters, if he found them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report. This was his plan of amends--of atonement--for inheriting their father’s estate; and he thought it an excellent one, full of eligibility and suitableness, and excessively generous and disinterested on his own part.” Amends and atonement are both words for making up for a wrong; common report is what people say; disinterested here means unselfish, with nothing to gain. The student decides whether amends can come with such a condition: whether it empties them or leaves them standing. The card must not say that Mr. Collins will propose to Elizabeth, or what she would answer: in this chapter he has only settled his choice.
No: the condition empties them. Making up for a wrong should not depend on whether the people wronged are handsome and pleasant, and his amends come due only if a daughter pleases him. He “intended to marry” anyway, now that he has a house and an income, so “amends” is a generous name for choosing a wife. The narrator’s “excessively generous and disinterested” gives the plan as he sees it, and the reader hears the joke.
Having now a good house and a very sufficient income, he intended to marry;
if he found them as handsome and amiable as they were represented by common report.
Yes: the condition leaves them standing. Amends by marriage have to be a marriage, and no one would call it kind to marry a woman he could not like. The condition decides which daughter, not whether the family is reconciled, and it is met at once: his plan does not change when he sees them, and Jane’s face confirms it.
His plan did not vary on seeing them.
Miss Bennet’s lovely face confirmed his views,
A strong answer A strong response weighs whether amends can come with conditions. One reader finds the condition empties them: making up for a wrong should not depend on how handsome and pleasant the people wronged are, and since he “intended to marry” anyway, “amends” is a generous name for choosing a wife, the generosity the narrator lets him see in himself. Another finds the amends still standing: a marriage needs a wife he can like, the condition only decides which daughter, and it is met as soon as he sees Jane. The best answers notice that the terms were set on “common report” before he had seen a single face, and that choosing on report and looks is what the rest of the chapter goes on to do.
2. Mrs. Bennet warns Mr. Collins off Jane “amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement”. Is she steering him, or telling him what she believes is true?Character
What it asks It asks the student to read Mrs. Bennet’s hint. Before breakfast, Mr. Collins confides his hope that a mistress for his parsonage “might be found at Longbourn”, and she answers, smiling: “As to her _younger_ daughters, she could not take upon her to say--she could not positively answer--but she did not _know_ of any prepossession;--her _eldest_ daughter she must just mention--she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.” A prepossession is a liking already formed; incumbent on her means her duty. It works at once: “Mr. Collins had only to change from Jane to Elizabeth--and it was soon done--done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire.” Afterwards she “treasured up the hint”. The student decides whether she is steering him, telling him the truth as she sees it, or both. The card must not say that Jane will be engaged, or what Mr. Bingley means to do: the chapter shows only his visit.
Steering. She speaks of the younger daughters first, and her hedges (“could not take upon her to say”, “could not positively answer”) promise nothing while encouraging everything. Jane is mentioned only to be moved out of his way, and the change is made while she is busy at the fire, as if it had nothing to do with her. Afterwards she hopes for “two daughters married”, so the warning serves a plan, and the man she could not bear to speak of the day before is suddenly in her good graces.
she could not take upon her to say--she could not positively answer--but she did not know of any prepossession;
done while Mrs. Bennet was stirring the fire.
Mrs. Bennet treasured up the hint, and trusted that she might soon have two daughters married;
Telling what she believes. She thinks Jane is spoken for, and that same day Mr. Bingley rides out toward Longbourn “on purpose to inquire after her”. A mother who believes an engagement is near would feel bound to say so before a guest set his heart on the wrong daughter: she feels it “incumbent on her to hint”. Her smiles are for the man who may still take one of the others.
her eldest daughter she must just mention--she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.
He was then, he said, on his way to Longbourn on purpose to inquire after her.
A strong answer A strong response reads the hint in its own words. One reader finds her steering: the younger daughters come first, the hedges commit her to nothing, and afterwards she treasures the hint and hopes for two weddings. Another finds her honest by her own lights: she believes Jane is spoken for, Mr. Bingley rides out that day to ask after her, and she feels it her duty to say so. The best answers allow that she can do both at once, and notice how quickly her dislike of the man turns to favour once he is useful.
3. Mr. Bennet tells Elizabeth he expects “folly and conceit in every other room in the house”. Who is he counting in those rooms?Inference
What it asks It asks the student to hear whom Mr. Bennet’s line takes in. Mr. Collins has followed him into the library, “nominally engaged with one of the largest folios in the collection, but really talking to Mr. Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford. Such doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly. In his library he had been always sure of leisure and tranquillity; and though prepared, as he told Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room in the house, he was used to be free from them there: his civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk”. A folio is a large book; discomposed means upset. The student decides whom the remark counts. The card must not go beyond the line: the chapter gives Mr. Bennet’s joke, not his feelings about his family.
Mr. Collins above all. He is the folly that has walked into the one room where it never used to come, pretending to read and talking without stopping about his own house. The remark is a joke at the guest’s expense, and Mr. Bennet’s remedy is to send him away with perfect politeness.
but really talking to Mr. Bennet, with little cessation, of his house and garden at Hunsford.
Such doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly.
His own household. The words “every other room” take in the rest of his house, where his wife and daughters live, and he says it to Elizabeth, as if she were the one listener outside the folly. The chapter bears him out: his wife’s smiling hint that morning, and, later, Lydia’s eyes up the street for officers. And his remedy sends the folly out with his daughters so that he can be alone.
and though prepared, as he told Elizabeth, to meet with folly and conceit in every other room in the house,
his civility, therefore, was most prompt in inviting Mr. Collins to join his daughters in their walk;
A strong answer A strong response decides whom the line takes in and reasons from the words. One reader hears it aimed at Mr. Collins, who has brought his talk of Hunsford into the one quiet room in the house. Another hears it take in the whole household, wife and younger daughters included, said to the one daughter he treats as an ally, with a remedy that sends the folly out walking with his girls. The best answers notice that Mr. Bennet, too, has a quick and settled verdict on the people around him, and weigh whether that is clear sight or only a joke he enjoys.
4. Austen never says which man went white and which went red. What would you lose if she told you?Author's choice
What it asks It asks the student to weigh a silence in the narration. Darcy “was beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Elizabeth, when they were suddenly arrested by the sight of the stranger; and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other, was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting. Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red. Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat--a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return.” Countenance means face; deigned means did something as if it were beneath him. The student decides what the narrator’s silence keeps from the reader, and what it gives. The card must not say what lies between the two men or which one turned which colour, and must not treat either colour as proof that one of them is in the wrong.
We would lose Elizabeth’s place. She sees both faces and still cannot read them. Given no more than she has, the reader shares her astonishment instead of watching it from above. Tell us who went white, and we would be a step ahead of her, holding a clue she does not have.
was all astonishment at the effect of the meeting.
Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red.
We would lose the chance to judge fairly. White and red read as different feelings: pallor as shock or fear, a flush as anger or shame. Name the men and the reader would start handing out guilt and grievance before either has said a word. The silence keeps them level, and leaves only what can be seen: a touched hat, and a salute “just deigned” in return.
Mr. Wickham, after a few moments, touched his hat--a salutation which Mr. Darcy just deigned to return.
and Elizabeth happening to see the countenance of both as they looked at each other,
A strong answer A strong response names what the silence protects. One reader finds that it keeps the reader beside Elizabeth: she sees both faces and cannot read them, and so, told no more, cannot we. Another finds that it keeps the reader from judging too soon: white and red suggest different feelings, and naming the men would turn each colour into evidence before either has spoken. The best answers notice that the two readings work together, and that what the chapter does give, a touched hat and a cold return, is manner, not history.
5. Bingley rides on “without seeming to have noticed what passed”. How much do you think he saw?Inference
What it asks It asks the student to weigh one word, “seeming”. When the riders reach the group, “Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object.” After the meeting of the two men: “In another minute Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.” The student decides how much Mr. Bingley saw: little or nothing, or all of it, passed over on purpose. The card must not say what Mr. Bingley knows of either man: the chapter gives only how he looked.
Little or nothing. His eyes and his talk are all for Jane: he is the spokesman and she is the object. The narrator gives the sight of both faces to Elizabeth, who happened to be looking. A man busy with civilities to the woman he came to ask after need not have seen a thing.
Bingley was the principal spokesman, and Miss Bennet the principal object.
On distinguishing the ladies of the group the two gentlemen came directly towards them, and began the usual civilities.
All of it, and he covers it. The word “seeming” reports how he looked, not what he saw, and the narrator chose the careful word. “In another minute” he takes leave and rides off with his friend: a quick, smooth exit is just what a good friend arranges when something awkward has passed in the street.
In another minute Mr. Bingley, but without seeming to have noticed what passed, took leave and rode on with his friend.
A strong answer A strong response decides from the words the narrator chose. One reader finds he saw little or nothing: his attention is all on Jane, the “principal object”, and only Elizabeth happens to see both faces. Another finds he saw it all and covered it: “seeming” is a careful word, and taking leave “In another minute” is how a friend smooths over an awkward moment. The best answers notice that the narrator leaves the question open, and that the scene has three watchers who see three different amounts.
6. Mrs. Philips says she has been watching Mr. Wickham for the last hour, yet she can tell her nieces only “what they already knew”. What has the hour of watching given her?Character
What it asks It asks the student to weigh what watching a man is worth. Mrs. Philips “could only tell her nieces what they already knew, that Mr. Denny had brought him from London, and that he was to have a lieutenant’s commission in the ----shire. She had been watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street”. Before the visit ends, “their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham, and give him an invitation also, if the family from Longbourn would come in the evening.” The student decides what the hour has given her, if it has not given her anything to tell. The card judges the watcher, not the man watched: it must not say that Mr. Wickham is untrustworthy, or hint at a past the chapter does not give.
Nothing she can tell. An hour at the window gives her his looks and his walk, and her nieces had both for themselves on the pavement. She knows what Mr. Denny told them and no more. The narrator’s “what they already knew” makes the hour a small joke: watching is not knowing.
she could only tell her nieces what they already knew,
that Mr. Denny had brought him from London,
A liking strong enough to act on. She has learned no new fact, but the hour has settled her mind: she throws up the parlour window to second Lydia’s invitation, and before the visit ends she has promised that her husband will call on Mr. Wickham with an invitation. Watching has given her what the few minutes on the pavement gave her nieces, a man she wants in the room.
She had been watching him the last hour, she said, as he walked up and down the street
even in spite of Mrs. Philips’s throwing up the parlour window, and loudly seconding the invitation.
their aunt promised to make her husband call on Mr. Wickham, and give him an invitation also,
A strong answer A strong response separates what the hour taught her from what it did to her. One reader finds it gave her nothing: she can tell her nieces only what they already knew, and an hour of his walk adds nothing to a few minutes of his talk. Another finds it gave her a liking strong enough to act on: she calls from the window for him to come in, and before the visit ends she has promised that her husband will call on Mr. Wickham with an invitation. The best answers notice that both can be true, and that this is how the chapter’s choices are made: no new facts, and a decision all the same.
1. Austen tells us about Mr. Collins’s father, his schooling and his luck, but of Mr. Wickham only his looks and his manner. Why might she tell us so much about one stranger and so little about the other?
What it asks It asks the student to build a thesis on how the narrator brings in two newcomers. Mr. Collins comes with a history: “the greatest part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father”; a university where he kept his terms “without forming at it any useful acquaintance”; “A fortunate chance” that gave him Lady Catherine as patroness; and a verdict, “altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.” Mr. Wickham comes with “all the best parts of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address”, and “a happy readiness of conversation--a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming”, and nothing more, beyond Mr. Denny’s word that he has accepted a commission in the corps. The student builds a thesis on why the narrator divides what she tells this way, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not say that Mr. Wickham is untrustworthy, or hint at a past the chapter does not give: here he is only charming.
To put the reader where Meryton stands. Mr. Collins is explained so completely that there is nothing left to judge: the narrator has judged him in the first sentence. Mr. Wickham is given only what the ladies can see from the pavement, so the reader meets him as they do, on looks and talk alone, and has to decide what those are worth.
Mr. Collins was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society;
a young man, whom they had never seen before, of most gentlemanlike appearance,
Because one man is the comedy and the other is the puzzle. The first half needs us to know exactly why Mr. Collins is absurd, so that every bow and every “pompous nothing” lands. The second half needs a man nobody can account for, so that the change of colour in the street is a real question. Each stranger gets as much as his part in the chapter needs.
made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.
In pompous nothings on his side, and civil assents on that of his cousins,
A strong answer A strong thesis says what the uneven telling does. A student might argue that it puts the reader where Meryton stands: Mr. Collins is explained and judged from the first sentence, while Mr. Wickham is given only what can be seen from the pavement, so the reader meets him as the ladies do and has to weigh his manner with nothing else to go on. The strongest objection is that the narrator does judge Mr. Wickham, and in her own voice: “perfectly correct and unassuming” is praise, not the ladies’ opinion, just as “pompous nothings” is her verdict on Mr. Collins. A good revision might hold that the narrator judges what can be seen in both men, their manner, but traces only Mr. Collins’s manner back to its causes; for Mr. Wickham the reader has a fair verdict on the surface and no account of where it comes from.
2. Wickham wins the whole party within minutes of meeting them. Is so good a first impression a reason to trust him, or a reason to wait?
What it asks It asks the student to judge the first impression the chapter lets Mr. Wickham make. On the pavement: “His appearance was greatly in his favour: he had all the best parts of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address. The introduction was followed up on his side by a happy readiness of conversation--a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming;” Address here means manner. Then the riders come, and Elizabeth sees the two men see each other: “Both changed colour, one looked white, the other red.” “What could be the meaning of it? It was impossible to imagine; it was impossible not to long to know.” On the walk home, Jane “would have defended either or both, had they appeared to be wrong”, but can explain it no better than her sister. The student builds a thesis on whether so good a first impression is a reason to trust Mr. Wickham or a reason to wait, meets the strongest objection, and revises. The card must not say what lies between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy, which man turned white and which red, or that either is in the wrong: neither has said a word about the other. Read the chapter as it stands: here Mr. Wickham is only charming.
A reason to trust, as far as trust can go on a first meeting. The praise of his manner is the narrator’s own, not only the ladies’: “perfectly correct and unassuming”, the opposite of Mr. Collins’s pompous nothings. He comes introduced by an officer the family knows, with a commission in the corps. A good manner is real evidence, and it is most of what anyone ever has of a stranger.
conversation--a readiness at the same time perfectly correct and unassuming;
Mr. Denny addressed them directly, and entreated permission to introduce his friend, Mr. Wickham,
A reason to wait. The whole party is won in minutes, by “all the best parts of beauty” and a ready tongue, much as Mr. Collins chose a wife by a pretty face and birth order. Then the street shows that something the ladies do not know lies between him and another man, and even Jane, who would defend anyone, cannot explain it. Charm shows how a man meets strangers; it cannot show what two men know of each other.
he had all the best parts of beauty, a fine countenance, a good figure, and very pleasing address.
she could no more explain such behaviour than her sister.
A strong answer A strong thesis judges the first impression from what the chapter gives. A student might argue that it is a reason to trust, so far as any first meeting can be: the narrator herself calls his manner “perfectly correct and unassuming”, he comes introduced by a known officer, and manner is most of what anyone has of a stranger. The strongest objection is the street: the change of colour shows that something lies between him and Mr. Darcy that no one else present knows, and the party was won in minutes, as quickly as Mr. Collins changed his bride by the fire. A good revision might hold that the impression is honest evidence of how he meets strangers and no evidence at all of what the street revealed, so that trusting his manner and waiting on the rest are not opposites; the chapter itself, ending with Elizabeth and Jane unable to explain what they saw, gives no verdict.
A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.Too much eagerness to please and obey people of higher rank (from Latin obsequi, to comply, literally to follow). The narrator pairs it with its opposite, “pride”, and then makes a second pair the same way, “self-importance and humility”. Mr. Collins bows low to Lady Catherine and thinks very well of himself, and the sentence shows both at once.
A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her high rank, and his veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his right as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.Deep respect that comes close to worship (from Latin venerari, to worship, the root of venerable). It is a word more often used of saints and holy things than of a living patroness. Mr. Collins feels “respect” for Lady Catherine’s rank and “veneration” for her as his patroness: the second word lifts the first, and shows how high he has set her.
The next morning, however, made an alteration; for in a quarter of an hour’s tête-à-tête with Mrs. Bennet before breakfast, a conversation beginning with his parsonage-house, and leading naturally to the avowal of his hopes, that a mistress for it might be found at Longbourn, produced from her, amid very complaisant smiles and general encouragement, a caution against the very Jane he had fixed on.Eager to please; ready to agree and be agreeable (from Latin complacere, to please, the same root as complacent). Mrs. Bennet’s smiles are “very complaisant” as she warns Mr. Collins off Jane: the caution comes wrapped in welcome, so it does not sound like a refusal.
As to her younger daughters, she could not take upon her to say--she could not positively answer--but she did not know of any prepossession;--her eldest daughter she must just mention--she felt it incumbent on her to hint, was likely to be very soon engaged.A liking or leaning formed in advance (pre-, before, and possess: a mind already taken). Mrs. Bennet does not “know” of any in her younger daughters, which leaves them free for Mr. Collins. The word shares its idea with prejudice: an opinion that takes hold before the facts arrive.
Such doings discomposed Mr. Bennet exceedingly.Upset; disturbed someone’s calm (dis-, undoing, and compose, to settle). Mr. Collins’s talk discomposes Mr. Bennet because the library is the one room where he has always been sure of “leisure and tranquillity”. The word is mild and a little grand, and the comedy is in how much annoyance it politely covers.