Darcy's second proposal to Elizabeth

Darcy's second proposal to Elizabeth is the climactic resolution of the novel's central romantic arc, in which Fitzwilliam Darcy, having undergone profound personal change and secretly orchestrated the rescue of Lydia Bennet's reputation, renews his offer of marriage to Elizabeth Bennet and is accepted, marking the triumph of mutual understanding over pride and prejudice.

Circumstances and Setting

The proposal takes place during a walk near Longbourn, only days after Lady Catherine de Bourgh's confrontational visit to Longbourn. Elizabeth had been dreading Darcy's return, uncertain whether his aunt's interference would drive him away. When Bingley brings Darcy with him to Longbourn, the party sets out walking; Kitty soon leaves to call on Maria Lucas, and Elizabeth finds herself alone with Darcy. She is secretly forming a desperate resolution, and perhaps he is doing the same.

Elizabeth's Gratitude and Darcy's Declaration

Elizabeth, acting on her resolution, immediately thanks Darcy for his unexampled kindness to her sister Lydia. She tells him she has been most anxious to acknowledge how gratefully she feels it, and that were it known to the rest of her family, she would not have merely her own gratitude to express. Darcy, in a tone of surprise and emotion, replies that he is sorry she has ever been informed of what may have given her uneasiness, and blames Mrs. Gardiner for the disclosure. Elizabeth insists that Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed his involvement, and she could not rest until she knew the particulars. She thanks him again and again for the generous compassion that induced him to take so much trouble and bear so many mortifications for the sake of discovering them. Darcy then makes his crucial confession: "If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you." After a short pause, he adds, "You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."

Elizabeth's Acceptance and Mutual Confessions

Elizabeth, feeling all the awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, forces herself to speak and gives him to understand that her sentiments have undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness this produces is such as he has probably never felt before; he expresses himself as sensibly and warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. She learns that they owe their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt, who did call on him in her return through London and relate her journey to Longbourn, its motive, and the substance of her conversation with Elizabeth, dwelling emphatically on every expression of the latter that peculiarly denoted her perverseness and assurance. Unluckily for her ladyship, the effect had been exactly contrariwise. "It taught me to hope," says Darcy, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly." Elizabeth, colouring and laughing, replies that after abusing him so abominably to his face, she could have no scruple in abusing him to all his relations. Darcy insists that her accusations, though ill-founded, were merited by his behaviour at the time, which was unpardonable. Elizabeth proposes they not quarrel over the greater share of blame, since both have improved in civility since then. Darcy confesses that the recollection of his conduct, manners, and expressions during his first proposal has been inexpressibly painful to him for many months, and that her reproof—"had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner"—has tortured him. Elizabeth admits she had no idea her words would make so strong an impression. Darcy asks whether his letter soon made her think better of him; she explains how gradually all her former prejudices were removed. He hopes she has destroyed the letter, especially the opening, which he dreads her reading again. Elizabeth replies that the letter shall certainly be burnt if he believes it essential to the preservation of her regard, but her opinions are not quite so easily changed as that implies. Darcy confesses that he wrote in a dreadful bitterness of spirit, though he believed himself calm. Elizabeth tells him to think no more of the letter, since the feelings of both writer and receiver are now so widely different. Darcy then makes a remarkable confession of his own character: "I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled." He admits he came to her at Hunsford without a doubt of his reception, believing she was wishing and expecting his addresses. Elizabeth blames her own manners, which her spirits might often lead wrong. Darcy tells her that at Pemberley his object was to show her, by every civility in his power, that he was not so mean as to resent the past, and to obtain her forgiveness; other wishes introduced themselves, he believes, in about half an hour after he saw her.

Resolution and Aftermath

They walk for several miles, too busy to know anything about it, and find on examining their watches that it is time to be at home. Darcy is delighted with Bingley's engagement; he tells Elizabeth that on the evening before going to London he made a confession to Bingley of all that had occurred to make his former interference absurd and impertinent, and that he told Bingley he believed himself mistaken in supposing Jane indifferent. Elizabeth cannot help smiling at his easy manner of directing his friend. Darcy admits he had narrowly observed Jane during his two recent visits and was convinced of her affection, and that his assurance carried immediate conviction to Bingley. He confesses that he was obliged to reveal that Jane had been in town three months last winter and that he had purposely kept it from Bingley, which offended his friend, but Bingley has heartily forgiven him now. Elizabeth longs to observe that Bingley had been a most delightful friend, so easily guided that his worth was invaluable, but she checks herself, remembering that he has yet to learn to be laughed at. They continue the conversation till they reach the house, where they part in the hall. That evening, Elizabeth opens her heart to Jane, who is at first absolutely incredulous. Elizabeth assures her solemnly of her attachment, and Jane, once convinced, has nothing further to wish. Elizabeth tells her of Darcy's share in Lydia's marriage, and they spend half the night in conversation. The next day, Darcy follows Mr. Bennet to the library to ask his consent. Mr. Bennet, initially shocked and anxious, is gradually won over by Elizabeth's earnest assurances that she loves Darcy, by her explanation of the gradual change in her estimation of him, and by her revelation of what Darcy voluntarily did for Lydia. "This is an evening of wonders, indeed!" Mr. Bennet exclaims. "And so, Darcy did everything; made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow's debts, and got him his commission!" He gives his consent, declaring that if this is the case, Darcy deserves her. When Elizabeth tells her mother, Mrs. Bennet is at first speechless, then bursts into raptures about ten thousand a year, pin-money, jewels, carriages, and a house in town. Elizabeth finds that though secure in Darcy's warmest affection and her relations' consent, there is still something to be wished for in her mother's behaviour. The morrow passes off much better than she expects, for Mrs. Bennet stands in such awe of her intended son-in-law that she ventures not to speak to him unless she can offer him attention or mark her deference for his opinion. Elizabeth has the satisfaction of seeing her father taking pains to get acquainted with Darcy, and Mr. Bennet soon assures her that Darcy is rising every hour in his esteem.