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Forgot to mention, if anyone could help me out with the names of the villains I didn't list, that'd be cool — JO listed a lot of villains in that Dishonorable Mentions and I still don't know half of them
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* WhatCouldHaveBeen:
** Obviously, he never finished either his ''Manga/{{Trigun}}'' or ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' retrospectives, rendering many allusions he made to future installments moot.
** "Top 20 Most Deliciously Evil Anime Villains":
*** His "Dis-Honorable Mentions" list early in the video lists characters such as [[Anime/FullmetalAlchemist2003 Fuhrer King Bradley]], [[Manga/{{Naruto}} Itachi Uchiha]], [[Anime/EurekaSeven Dewey Novak]], [[Anime/{{FLCL}} Haruko Haruhara]], [[Manga/{{Bleach}} Gin Ichimaru]], [[Manga/{{Hellsing}} Jan Valentine]] and [[Manga/SoulEater Medusa Gorgon]], among ''many'' others -- obviously characters he considered for the list, but ultimately didn't make the cut.
*** The comments for the now long deleted original upload had JO mention a few other villains he considered. Notably, [[Manga/BlackLagoon Balalaika]] and [[Anime/FullmetalAlchemist2003 Envy]] were both considered, but ultimately didn't make it for various reasons (''Black Lagoon'' overall seems to have been exempt due to the fact that nearly every character was a VillainProtagonist; Envy, despite fitting the [[EvilIsCool "Deliciously Evil"]] criteria, was ultimately concluded to be unfitting for a list mostly consisting of {{Big Bad}}s, since he never quite rises above his status as a henchman -- this is presumably why King Bradley didn't make the cut as well).
** In his review of ''Anime/FullmetalAlchemist2003'', he mentioned that if people ''really'' wanted him to, he'd be willing to make a video comparing it to ''Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood'' and running down the differences and pros and cons of both series. This never came to pass.
** Obviously, he never finished either his ''Manga/{{Trigun}}'' or ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' retrospectives, rendering many allusions he made to future installments moot.
** "Top 20 Most Deliciously Evil Anime Villains":
*** His "Dis-Honorable Mentions" list early in the video lists characters such as [[Anime/FullmetalAlchemist2003 Fuhrer King Bradley]], [[Manga/{{Naruto}} Itachi Uchiha]], [[Anime/EurekaSeven Dewey Novak]], [[Anime/{{FLCL}} Haruko Haruhara]], [[Manga/{{Bleach}} Gin Ichimaru]], [[Manga/{{Hellsing}} Jan Valentine]] and [[Manga/SoulEater Medusa Gorgon]], among ''many'' others -- obviously characters he considered for the list, but ultimately didn't make the cut.
*** The comments for the now long deleted original upload had JO mention a few other villains he considered. Notably, [[Manga/BlackLagoon Balalaika]] and [[Anime/FullmetalAlchemist2003 Envy]] were both considered, but ultimately didn't make it for various reasons (''Black Lagoon'' overall seems to have been exempt due to the fact that nearly every character was a VillainProtagonist; Envy, despite fitting the [[EvilIsCool "Deliciously Evil"]] criteria, was ultimately concluded to be unfitting for a list mostly consisting of {{Big Bad}}s, since he never quite rises above his status as a henchman -- this is presumably why King Bradley didn't make the cut as well).
** In his review of ''Anime/FullmetalAlchemist2003'', he mentioned that if people ''really'' wanted him to, he'd be willing to make a video comparing it to ''Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood'' and running down the differences and pros and cons of both series. This never came to pass.
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No longer Trivia. See X Source Cleanup
.
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* QuoteSource: LockingMacGyverInTheStoreCupboard
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* DevelopmentHell: [[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNcp0jjlKcU&list=LLsswFJvoP3kByiYiRAG6bHw&index=203 Back in October 2018 Jacob announced the plans to revive the series.]] Nothing has come out of it since then.
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* DevelopmentHell: Back in October 2018 [[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNcp0jjlKcU&list=LLsswFJvoP3kByiYiRAG6bHw&index=203 Back in October 2018 com/watch?v=QNcp0jjlKcU Jacob announced the plans to revive the series.]] Nothing has come out of it since then.
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* DevelopmentHell: [[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNcp0jjlKcU&list=LLsswFJvoP3kByiYiRAG6bHw&index=203 Back in October 2018 Jacob announced the plans to revive the series.]] Nothing has come out of it since then.
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* ActorAllusion: In his review of ''Anime/PrincessTutu'', he says, "I see a [[Manga/OuranHighSchoolHostClub host club]] in [[Creator/VicMignogna someone's]] future..." on a clip of Femio.
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* BreakupBreakout: Not quite. Rather than leaving the [[Website/DesuDesBrigade Brigade]] after joining up with Website/ThatGuyWithTheGlasses, he still tried to be a loyal brigadier, and his new-found popularity did in fact bring in more viewers to the Brigade's site; however, his indecisiveness coupled with his AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder caused him to grow increasingly distant from the Brigade, unofficially breaking off from it about a year from its official disbandment.
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* BreakupBreakout: Not quite. Rather than leaving the [[Website/DesuDesBrigade Brigade]] after joining up with Website/ThatGuyWithTheGlasses, Website/ChannelAwesome, he still tried to be a loyal brigadier, and his new-found popularity did in fact bring in more viewers to the Brigade's site; however, his indecisiveness coupled with his AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder caused him to grow increasingly distant from the Brigade, unofficially breaking off from it about a year from its official disbandment.
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* ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', hIS weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain until he retired from videos.
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* ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', hIS his weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain until he retired from videos.
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* QuoteSource: LockingMacGyverInTheStoreCupboard
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* KeepCirculatingTheTapes: Averted, as he has given fans his blessing to reupload any and all of his old videos now that Blip is gone and he's called it quits, under the condition that people don't claim to be him.
** However, in 2017 when a [=YouTuber=] started going after Channel Awesome and its former members, Jay-O politely requested that anyone who'd reuploaded his videos take them down, lest they threaten his current job.
** However, in 2017 when a [=YouTuber=] started going after Channel Awesome and its former members, Jay-O politely requested that anyone who'd reuploaded his videos take them down, lest they threaten his current job.
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* BreakupBreakout: Not quite. Rather than leaving the [[Website/DesuDesBrigade Brigade]] after joining up with Website/ThatGuyWithTheGlasses, he still tried to be a loyal brigadier, and his new-found popularity did in fact bring in more viewers to the Brigade's site; however, his indecisiveness coupled with his AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder caused him to grow increasingly distant from the Brigade, unofficially breaking off from it about a year from its official disbandment.
* DearNegativeReader: Released a full-length one over his Twitter sometime around mid/late-2011 in response to the frequent complaints about his aforementioned AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder.
* KeepCirculatingTheTapes:Averted, as he has given He initially gave fans his blessing to reupload any and all of his old videos now that Blip is gone and he's called it quits, under the condition that people don't claim to be him.
**him. However, in 2017 when a [=YouTuber=] started going after Channel Awesome and its former members, Jay-O JO politely requested that anyone who'd reuploaded his videos take them down, lest they threaten his current job.
* DearNegativeReader: Released a full-length one over his Twitter sometime around mid/late-2011 in response to the frequent complaints about his aforementioned AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder.
* KeepCirculatingTheTapes:
**
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** However, in 2017 when a YouTuber started going after Channel Awesome and its former members, Jay-O politely requested that anyone who'd reuploaded his videos take them down, lest they threaten his current job.
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** However, in 2017 when a YouTuber [=YouTuber=] started going after Channel Awesome and its former members, Jay-O politely requested that anyone who'd reuploaded his videos take them down, lest they threaten his current job.
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** However, in 2017 when a YouTuber started going after Channel Awesome and its former members, Jay-O politely requested that anyone who'd reuploaded his videos take them down, lest they threaten his current job.
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* ActorAllusion: In his review of ''Anime/PrincessTutu'', he says, "I see a [[Manga/OuranHighSchoolHostClub host club]] in [[VicMignogna someone's]] future..." on a clip of Femio.
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* ActorAllusion: In his review of ''Anime/PrincessTutu'', he says, "I see a [[Manga/OuranHighSchoolHostClub host club]] in [[VicMignogna [[Creator/VicMignogna someone's]] future..." on a clip of Femio.
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* After extensive research, it can be confirmed that Jacob Hope Chapman's original first name was Susannah. This can be proven through a people-finder search cross-referencing her brother's name, Nathan, with her birthplace, Bowling Green Kentucky, and a look through the 2007 honor roll list of Greenwood High School, which does indeed include a Susannah Hope Chapman.
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New information
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*After extensive research, it can be confirmed that Jacob Hope Chapman's original first name was Susannah. This can be proven through a people-finder search cross-referencing her brother's name, Nathan, with her birthplace, Bowling Green Kentucky, and a look through the 2007 honor roll list of Greenwood High School, which does indeed include a Susannah Hope Chapman.
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* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: He reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where he looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
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* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: He reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, ''VisualNovel/KatawaShoujo'', and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where he looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
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* KeepCirculatingTheTapes: Averted, as he has given fans his blessing to reupload any and all of his old videos now that Blip is gone and he's called it quits, under the condition that people don't claim to be him.
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moderator restored to earlier version
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moderator restored to earlier version
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Typo.
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* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: HAe reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where he looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
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* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: HAe He reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where he looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
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* ActorAllusion: In her review of ''Anime/PrincessTutu'', she says, "I see a [[Manga/OuranHighSchoolHostClub host club]] in [[VicMignogna someone's]] future..." on a clip of Femio.
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: She reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where she looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
* ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain until she retired from videos.
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: She reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where she looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
* ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain until she retired from videos.
to:
* ActorAllusion: In her his review of ''Anime/PrincessTutu'', she he says, "I see a [[Manga/OuranHighSchoolHostClub host club]] in [[VicMignogna someone's]] future..." on a clip of Femio.
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder:She HAe reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where she he looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
* ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'',her hIS weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain until she he retired from videos.
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder:
* ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'',
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* ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
to:
* ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
uncertain until she retired from videos.
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Dead link
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* ScheduleSlip:
** JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
** She recently stated on [[http://www.formspring.me/JesuOtaku her new Formspring account]] that they will continue, but they'll come as they're done, like Linkara's WebVideo/HistoryOfPowerRangers.
** JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
** She recently stated on [[http://www.formspring.me/JesuOtaku her new Formspring account]] that they will continue, but they'll come as they're done, like Linkara's WebVideo/HistoryOfPowerRangers.
to:
* ScheduleSlip:
**ScheduleSlip: JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
** She recently stated on [[http://www.formspring.me/JesuOtaku her new Formspring account]] that they will continue, but they'll come as they're done, like Linkara's WebVideo/HistoryOfPowerRangers.
**
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IT is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
``My dear Mr. Bennet,'' said his lady to him one day, ``have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?''
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
``But it is,'' returned she; ``for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it.''
Mr. Bennet made no answer.
``Do not you 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.
``Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, 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; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!''
``How so? how can it affect them?''
``My dear Mr. Bennet,'' replied his wife, ``how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.''
``Is that his design in settling here?''
``Design! nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes.''
``I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better; for, as 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 any thing extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.''
``In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.''
``But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood.''
``It is more than I engage for, I assure you.''
``But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know they visit no new comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not.''
``You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying which ever he chuses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.''
``I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference.''
``They have none of them 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 consideration these twenty years at least.''
``Ah! you do not know what I suffer.''
``But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four thousand a year 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 so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three and twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develope. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news.
MR. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his wife that he should 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 employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her with,
``I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.''
``We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes,'' said her mother resentfully, ``since we are not to visit.''
``But you forget, mama,'' said Elizabeth, ``that we shall meet him at the assemblies, 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 opinion of her.''
``No more have I,'' said Mr. Bennet; ``and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you.''
Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but unable to contain herself, 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; ``she times them ill.''
``I do not cough for my own amusement,'' replied Kitty fretfully.
``When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?''
``To-morrow fortnight.''
``Aye, so it is,'' cried her mother, ``and Mrs. Long does not come back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself.''
``Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr. Bingley to her.''
``Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teazing?''
``I honour your circumspection. A fortnight's acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if we do not venture, somebody else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their chance; and therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself.''
The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, ``Nonsense, nonsense!''
``What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?'' cried he. ``Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you there. What say you, Mary? for you are a young lady of deep reflection I know, and read great books, and make extracts.''
Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.
``While Mary is adjusting 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 not you 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; that of Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while.
``How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should 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 chuse,'' said Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.
``What an excellent father you have, girls,'' said she, when the door was shut. ``I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me either, for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so pleasant I can tell you, to be making new acquaintance every day; but for your sakes, we would do any thing. 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 in conjecturing how soon he would return Mr. Bennet's visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.
NOT all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him in various ways; with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley's heart were entertained.
``If I can but see 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.''
In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet's visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight 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 of ascertaining, from an upper window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.
An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the following day, and consequently unable to accept the honour of their invitation, &c. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a large number of ladies; but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing that, instead of twelve, he had brought only six with him from London, his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room, it consisted of only five altogether; Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the oldest, and another young man.
Mr. Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien; and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.
Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted 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 must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and every body hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her daughters.
Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been standing near enough for her to overhear a conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes to press his friend to join it.
``Come, Darcy,'' said he, ``I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.''
``I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.''
``I would not be so fastidious as you are,'' cried Bingley, ``for a kingdom! Upon my honour I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty.''
``You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,'' said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
``Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.''
``Which do you mean?'' and turning round, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, ``She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted 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. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story however with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in any thing ridiculous.
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The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been distinguished 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 be never without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a book, he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that all his wife's views on the stranger would be disappointed; 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 be like it. Every body said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice. Only 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 of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her; but, however, he did not admire her at all: indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going down the dance. So, he enquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then, the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the Boulanger --''
``If he 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 ancle 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 any thing 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 seek another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.
``But I can assure you,'' she added, ``that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set downs. I quite detest the man.''
WHEN Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much she admired him.
``He is just what a young man ought to be,'' said she, ``sensible, good humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! -- so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!''
``He is also handsome,'' replied Elizabeth, ``which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.''
``I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment.''
``Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.''
``Dear Lizzy!''
``Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in any body. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in my life.''
``I would wish not to be hasty in censuring any one; but I always speak what I think.''
``I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense, to be honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common enough; -- one meets it every where. But to be candid without ostentation or design -- to take the good of every body's character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad -- belongs to you alone. And so, you like this man's sisters too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.''
``Certainly not; at first. But they are very pleasing women when you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbour in her.''
Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced. Their behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and with a judgment, too, unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve them. They were in fact very fine ladies, not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of rank; and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother's fortune and their own had been acquired by trade.
Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly an hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. -- Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase.
His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate of his own; but though he was now established only as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no means unwilling to preside at his table, nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House. He did look at it and into it for half an hour, was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.
Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of a great opposition of character. -- Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy's regard Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared; Darcy was continually giving offence.
The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in his life; every body had been most kind and attentive to him, there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much.
Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so -- but still they admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom they should not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorised by such commendation to think of her as he chose.
WITHIN a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune and risen to the honour of knighthood by an address to the King during his mayoralty. The distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust to his business and to his residence in a small market town; and quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all attention to every body. By nature inoffensive, friendly and obliging, his presentation at St. James's had made him courteous.
Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. -- They had several children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth's intimate friend.
That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate.
``You began the evening well, Charlotte,'' said Mrs. Bennet with civil self-command to Miss Lucas. ``You were Mr. Bingley's first choice.''
``Yes; -- but he seemed to like his second better.''
``Oh! -- you mean Jane, I suppose -- because he danced with her twice. To be sure that did seem as if he admired her -- indeed I rather believe he did -- I heard something about it -- but I hardly know what -- something about Mr. Robinson.''
``Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson; did not I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson's asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty women in the room, and which he thought the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last question -- "Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet beyond a doubt, there cannot be two opinions on that point."''
``Upon my word! -- Well, that was very decided indeed -- that does seem as if -- but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.''
``My overhearings were more to the purpose than yours, Eliza,'' said Charlotte. ``Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he? -- Poor Eliza! -- to be only just tolerable.''
``I beg you would not put it into Lizzy's head to be vexed by his ill-treatment; for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.''
``Are you quite sure, Ma'am? -- is not there a little mistake?'' said Jane. -- ``I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.''
``Aye -- because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; -- but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to.''
``Miss Bingley told me,'' said Jane, ``that he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he is remarkably agreeable.''
``I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was; every body says that he is ate up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise.''
``I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,'' said Miss Lucas, ``but I wish he had danced with Eliza.''
``Another time, Lizzy,'' said her mother, ``I would not dance with him, if I were you.''
``I believe, Ma'am, I may safely promise you never to dance with him.''
``His pride,'' said Miss Lucas, ``does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, every thing in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud.''
``That is very true,'' replied Elizabeth, ``and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.''
``Pride,'' observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, ``is a very common failing I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonimously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.''
``If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,'' cried a young Lucas who came with his sisters, ``I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.''
``Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,'' said Mrs. Bennet; ``and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly.''
The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.
THE ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was returned in due form. Miss Bennet's pleasing manners grew on the good will of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was found to be intolerable and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them was expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane this attention was received with the greatest pleasure; but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of every body, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother's admiration. It was generally evident whenever they met, that he did admire her; and to her it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united with great strength of feeling a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.
``It may perhaps be pleasant,'' replied Charlotte, ``to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely -- a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better shew more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.''
``But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to discover it too.''
``Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's disposition as you do.''
``But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out.''
``Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as much as she chuses.''
``Your plan is a good one,'' replied Elizabeth, ``where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married; and if I were determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Jane's feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard, nor of its reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since dined in company with him four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand his character.''
``Not as you represent it. Had she merely dined with him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must remember that four evenings have been also spent together -- and four evenings may do a great deal.''
``Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.''
``Well,'' said Charlotte, ``I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar before-hand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always contrive to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.''
``You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.''
Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; -- to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable no where, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.
He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas's, where a large party were assembled. ``What does Mr. Darcy mean,'' said she to Charlotte, ``by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?''
``That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.''
``But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.''
On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a subject to him, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said,
``Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teazing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?''
``With great energy; -- but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic.''
``You are severe on us.''
``It will be her turn soon to be teazed,'' said Miss Lucas. ``I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.''
``You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! -- always wanting me to play and sing before any body and every body! -- If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.'' On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, ``Very well; if it must be so, it must.'' And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, ``There is a fine old saying, which every body here is of course familiar with -- "Keep your breath to cool your porridge," -- and I shall keep mine to swell my song.''
Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.
Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.
Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began.
``What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! -- There is nothing like dancing after all. -- I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies.''
``Certainly, Sir; -- and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. -- Every savage can dance.''
Sir William only smiled. ``Your friend performs delightfully;'' he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; -- ``and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.''
``You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, Sir.''
``Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?''
``Never, sir.''
``Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?''
``It is a compliment which I never pay to any place, if I can avoid it.''
``You have a house in town, I conclude?''
Mr. Darcy bowed.
``I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself -- for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.''
He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her,
``My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? -- Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. -- You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.'' And taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William,
``Indeed, Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. -- I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.''
Mr. Darcy with grave propriety requested to be allowed the honour of her hand; but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.
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``You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour.''
``Mr. Darcy is all politeness,'' said Elizabeth, smiling.
``He is indeed -- but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a partner?''
Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley.
``I can guess the subject of your reverie.''
``I should imagine not.''
``You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner -- in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! -- What would I give to hear your strictures on them!''
``Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.''
Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity,
``Miss Elizabeth Bennet.''
``Miss Elizabeth Bennet!'' repeated Miss Bingley. ``I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? -- and pray when am I to wish you joy?''
``That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.''
``Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.''
He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner, and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.
MR. BENNET'S property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother's fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds.
She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to their father, and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.
The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt, and to a milliner's shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than their sisters', and when nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the head quarters.
Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the officers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley's large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign.
After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed,
``From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced.''
Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London.
``I am astonished, my dear,'' said Mrs. Bennet, ``that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of any body's children, it should not be of my own, however.''
``If my children are silly I must hope to be always sensible of it.''
``Yes -- but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.''
``This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish.''
``My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. -- When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well -- and indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William's in his regimentals.''
``Mama,'' cried Lydia, ``my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library.''
Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while her daughter read,
``Well, Jane, who is it from? what is it about? what does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.''
``It is from Miss Bingley,'' said Jane, and then read it aloud.
``My dear Friend,
IF you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. Yours ever,
CAROLINE BINGLEY.''
``With the officers!'' cried Lydia. ``I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that.''
``Dining out,'' said Mrs. Bennet, ``that is very unlucky.''
``Can I have the carriage?'' said Jane.
``No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night.''
``That would be a good scheme,'' said Elizabeth, ``if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home.''
``Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton; and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.''
``I had much rather go in the coach.''
``But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not they?''
``They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.''
``But if you have got them to-day,'' said Elizabeth, ``my mother's purpose will be answered.''
She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not come back.
``This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!'' said Mrs. Bennet, more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:
``My dearest Lizzy,
I FIND myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones -- therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me -- and excepting a sore throat and head-ache, there is not much the matter with me.
Yours, &c.''
``Well, my dear,'' said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, ``if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness, if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.''
``Oh! I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long is she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her, if I could have the carriage.''
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horse-woman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her resolution.
``How can you be so silly,'' cried her mother, ``as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.''
``I shall be very fit to see Jane -- which is all I want.''
``Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,'' said her father, ``to send for the horses?''
``No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing, when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.''
``I admire the activity of your benevolence,'' observed Mary, ``but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.''
``We will go as far as Meryton with you,'' said Catherine and Lydia. -- Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together.
``If we make haste,'' said Lydia, as they walked along, ``perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes.''
In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.
She was shewn into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. -- That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother's manners there was something better than politeness; there was good humour and kindness. -- Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.
Her enquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish and not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together, could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her.
When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters, and Elizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and solicitude they shewed for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment, nor were the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in fact nothing to do elsewhere.
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go; and very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring back a supply of clothes.
AT five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil enquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley's, she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves, and then thought no more of the matter; and their indifference towards Jane, when not immediately before them, restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her original dislike.
Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards, who, when he found her prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.
When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no stile, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added,
``She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.''
``She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!''
``Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office.''
``Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,'' said Bingley; ``but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well, when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice.''
``You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,'' said Miss Bingley, ``and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.''
``Certainly not.''
``To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ancles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! what could she mean by it? It seems to me to shew an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum.''
``It shews an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,'' said Bingley.
``I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,'' observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, ``that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.''
``Not at all,'' he replied; ``they were brightened by the exercise.'' -- A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again.
``I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it.''
``I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton.''
``Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.''
``That is capital,'' added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.
``If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside,'' cried Bingley, ``it would not make them one jot less agreeable.''
``But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,'' replied Darcy.
To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.
With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to her room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all till late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and when it appeared to her rather right than pleasant that she should go down stairs herself. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.
``Do you prefer reading to cards?'' said he; ``that is rather singular.''
``Miss Eliza Bennet,'' said Miss Bingley, ``despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else.''
``I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,'' cried Elizabeth; ``I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.''
``In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,'' said Bingley; ``and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.''
Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others; all that his library afforded.
``And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever look into.''
Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.
``I am astonished,'' said Miss Bingley, ``that my father should have left so small a collection of books. -- What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!''
``It ought to be good,'' he replied, ``it has been the work of many generations.''
``And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books.''
``I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these.''
``Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.''
``I wish it may.''
``But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.''
``With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.''
``I am talking of possibilities, Charles.''
``Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.''
Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, as to leave her very little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister to observe the game.
``Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?'' said Miss Bingley; ``will she be as tall as I am?''
``I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller.''
``How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the piano-forte is exquisite.''
``It is amazing to me,'' said Bingley, ``how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.''
``All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?''
``Yes all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover skreens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.''
``Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,'' said Darcy, ``has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse, or covering a skreen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.''
``Nor I, I am sure,'' said Miss Bingley.
``Then,'' observed Elizabeth, ``you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished women.''
``Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.''
``Oh! certainly,'' cried his faithful assistant, ``no one can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.''
``All this she must possess,'' added Darcy, ``and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.''
``I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.''
``Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?''
``I never saw such a woman, I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united.''
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.
``Eliza Bennet,'' said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, ``is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own, and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.''
``Undoubtedly,'' replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, ``there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.''
Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject.
Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones's being sent for immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of, but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother's proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that they were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper, while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every possible attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.
ELIZABETH passed the chief of the night in her sister's room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the enquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her own judgment of her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.
Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her, that her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She would not listen therefore to her daughter's proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss Bingley's appearance and invitation the mother and three daughters all attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.
``Indeed I have, Sir,'' was her answer. ``She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness.''
``Removed!'' cried Bingley. ``It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal.''
``You may depend upon it, Madam,'' said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, ``that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us.''
Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.
``I am sure,'' she added, ``if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world -- which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry I hope, though you have but a short lease.''
``Whatever I do is done in a hurry,'' replied he; ``and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.''
``That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,'' said Elizabeth.
``You begin to comprehend me, do you?'' cried he, turning towards her.
``Oh! yes -- I understand you perfectly.''
``I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful.''
``That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.''
``Lizzy,'' cried her mother, ``remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.''
``I did not know before,'' continued Bingley immediately, ``that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.''
``Yes; but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage.''
``The country,'' said Darcy, ``can in general supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society.''
``But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.''
``Yes, indeed,'' cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. ``I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town.''
Every body was surprised; and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.
``I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?''
``When I am in the country,'' he replied, ``I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.''
``Aye -- that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman,'' looking at Darcy, ``seemed to think the country was nothing at all.''
``Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken,'' said Elizabeth, blushing for her mother. ``You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there were not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true.''
``Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families.''
Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eye towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.
``Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley -- is not he? so much the man of fashion! so genteel and so easy! -- He has always something to say to every body. -- That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter.''
``Did Charlotte dine with you?''
``No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up differently. But every body is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain -- but then she is our particular friend.''
``She seems a very pleasant young woman,'' said Bingley.
``Oh! dear, yes; -- but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane -- one does not often see any body better looking. It is what every body says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a gentleman at my brother Gardiner's in town, so much in love with her, that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But however he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.''
``And so ended his affection,'' said Elizabeth impatiently. ``There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!''
``I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,'' said Darcy.
``Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.''
Darcy only smiled, and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part, indeed, without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.
Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attentions of the officers, to whom her uncle's good dinners and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother's ear.
``I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement, and when your sister is recovered, you shall if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill.''
Lydia declared herself satisfied. ``Oh! yes -- it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball,'' she added, ``I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.''
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations' behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley's witticisms on fine eyes.
THE day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing room. The loo table, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.
Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady either on his hand-writing, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in unison with her opinion of each.
``How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!''
He made no answer.
``You write uncommonly fast.''
``You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.''
``How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of the year! Letters of business too! How odious I should think them!''
``It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.''
``Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.''
``I have already told her so once, by your desire.''
``I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well.''
``Thank you -- but I always mend my own.''
``How can you contrive to write so even?''
He was silent.
``Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's.''
``Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? -- At present I have not room to do them justice.''
``Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?''
``They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me to determine.''
``It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter, with ease, cannot write ill.''
``That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,'' cried her brother -- ``because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. -- Do not you, Darcy?''
``My stile of writing is very different from yours.''
``Oh!'' cried Miss Bingley, ``Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.''
``My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them -- by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.''
``Your humility, Mr. Bingley,'' said Elizabeth, ``must disarm reproof.''
``Nothing is more deceitful,'' said Darcy, ``than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.''
``And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?''
``The indirect boast; -- for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing any thing with quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself -- and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or any one else?''
``Nay,'' cried Bingley, ``this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I believed what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless precipitance merely to shew off before the ladies.''
``I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependant on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, "Bingley, you had better stay till next week," you would probably do it, you would probably not go -- and, at another word, might stay a month.''
``You have only proved by this,'' cried Elizabeth, ``that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shewn him off now much more than he did himself.''
``I am exceedingly gratified,'' said Bingley, ``by your converting what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think the better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could.''
``Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?''
``Upon my word I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must speak for himself.''
``You expect me to account for opinions which you chuse to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety.''
``To yield readily -- easily -- to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you.''
``To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either.''
``You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?''
``Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?''
``By all means,'' cried Bingley; ``Let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more aweful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening when he has nothing to do.''
Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was rather offended; and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense.
``I see your design, Bingley,'' said his friend. -- ``You dislike an argument, and want to silence this.''
``Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.''
``What you ask,'' said Elizabeth, ``is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter.''
Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.
When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to the piano-forte, and after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself.
Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy's eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine however, at last, that she drew his notice because there was a something about her more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation.
After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her --
``Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?''
She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.
``Oh!'' said she, ``I heard you before; but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say "Yes," that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all -- and now despise me if you dare.''
``Indeed I do not dare.''
Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger.
Miss Bingley saw, or suspected, enough to be jealous; and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.
She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.
``I hope,'' said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, ``you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after the officers. -- And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses.''
``Have you any thing else to propose for my domestic felicity?''
``Oh! yes. -- Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great uncle, the judge. They are in the same profession, you know; only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?''
``It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eye-lashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied.''
At that moment they were met from another walk, by Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth herself.
``I did not know that you intended to walk,'' said Miss Bingley, in some confusion, lest they had been overheard.
``You used us abominably ill,'' answered Mrs. Hurst, ``in running away without telling us that you were coming out.'' Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path just admitted three.
Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness and immediately said, --
``This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.''
But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, laughingly answered,
``No, no; stay where you are. -- You are charmingly group'd, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good bye.''
She then ran gaily off, rejoicing, as she rambled about, in the hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.
However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.
``My dear Mr. Bennet,'' said his lady to him one day, ``have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?''
Mr. Bennet replied that he had not.
``But it is,'' returned she; ``for Mrs. Long has just been here, and she told me all about it.''
Mr. Bennet made no answer.
``Do not you 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.
``Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, 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; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!''
``How so? how can it affect them?''
``My dear Mr. Bennet,'' replied his wife, ``how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.''
``Is that his design in settling here?''
``Design! nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes.''
``I see no occasion for that. You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better; for, as 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 any thing extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.''
``In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of.''
``But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood.''
``It is more than I engage for, I assure you.''
``But consider your daughters. Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. Sir William and Lady Lucas are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know they visit no new comers. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not.''
``You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying which ever he chuses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy.''
``I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference.''
``They have none of them 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 consideration these twenty years at least.''
``Ah! you do not know what I suffer.''
``But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of four thousand a year 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 so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three and twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develope. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to get her daughters married; its solace was visiting and news.
MR. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley. He had always intended to visit him, though to the last always assuring his wife that he should 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 employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her with,
``I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.''
``We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes,'' said her mother resentfully, ``since we are not to visit.''
``But you forget, mama,'' said Elizabeth, ``that we shall meet him at the assemblies, 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 opinion of her.''
``No more have I,'' said Mr. Bennet; ``and I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you.''
Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply; but unable to contain herself, 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; ``she times them ill.''
``I do not cough for my own amusement,'' replied Kitty fretfully.
``When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?''
``To-morrow fortnight.''
``Aye, so it is,'' cried her mother, ``and Mrs. Long does not come back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself.''
``Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr. Bingley to her.''
``Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teazing?''
``I honour your circumspection. A fortnight's acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if we do not venture, somebody else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her nieces must stand their chance; and therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself.''
The girls stared at their father. Mrs. Bennet said only, ``Nonsense, nonsense!''
``What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?'' cried he. ``Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you there. What say you, Mary? for you are a young lady of deep reflection I know, and read great books, and make extracts.''
Mary wished to say something very sensible, but knew not how.
``While Mary is adjusting 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 not you 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; that of Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while.
``How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should 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 chuse,'' said Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, fatigued with the raptures of his wife.
``What an excellent father you have, girls,'' said she, when the door was shut. ``I do not know how you will ever make him amends for his kindness; or me either, for that matter. At our time of life, it is not so pleasant I can tell you, to be making new acquaintance every day; but for your sakes, we would do any thing. 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 in conjecturing how soon he would return Mr. Bennet's visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.
NOT all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him in various ways; with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises; but he eluded the skill of them all; and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. Sir William had been delighted with him. He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley's heart were entertained.
``If I can but see 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.''
In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet's visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight 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 of ascertaining, from an upper window, that he wore a blue coat and rode a black horse.
An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the following day, and consequently unable to accept the honour of their invitation, &c. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be. Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little by starting the idea of his being gone to London only to get a large party for the ball; and a report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly. The girls grieved over such a large number of ladies; but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing that, instead of twelve, he had brought only six with him from London, his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room, it consisted of only five altogether; Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the oldest, and another young man.
Mr. Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien; and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of his having ten thousand a year. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave a disgust which turned the tide of his popularity; for he was discovered to be proud, to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.
Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted 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 must speak for themselves. What a contrast between him and his friend! Mr. Darcy danced only once with Mrs. Hurst and once with Miss Bingley, declined being introduced to any other lady, and spent the rest of the evening in walking about the room, speaking occasionally to one of his own party. His character was decided. He was the proudest, most disagreeable man in the world, and every body hoped that he would never come there again. Amongst the most violent against him was Mrs. Bennet, whose dislike of his general behaviour was sharpened into particular resentment by his having slighted one of her daughters.
Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged, by the scarcity of gentlemen, to sit down for two dances; and during part of that time, Mr. Darcy had been standing near enough for her to overhear a conversation between him and Mr. Bingley, who came from the dance for a few minutes to press his friend to join it.
``Come, Darcy,'' said he, ``I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.''
``I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.''
``I would not be so fastidious as you are,'' cried Bingley, ``for a kingdom! Upon my honour I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several of them, you see, uncommonly pretty.''
``You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,'' said Mr. Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet.
``Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.''
``Which do you mean?'' and turning round, he looked for a moment at Elizabeth, till catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, ``She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted 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. Mr. Darcy walked off; and Elizabeth remained with no very cordial feelings towards him. She told the story however with great spirit among her friends; for she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in any thing ridiculous.
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The evening altogether passed off pleasantly to the whole family. Mrs. Bennet had seen her eldest daughter much admired by the Netherfield party. Mr. Bingley had danced with her twice, and she had been distinguished 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 be never without partners, which was all that they had yet learnt to care for at a ball. They returned therefore, in good spirits to Longbourn, the village where they lived, and of which they were the principal inhabitants. They found Mr. Bennet still up. With a book, he was regardless of time; and on the present occasion he had a good deal of curiosity as to the event of an evening which had raised such splendid expectations. He had rather hoped that all his wife's views on the stranger would be disappointed; 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 be like it. Every body said how well she looked; and Mr. Bingley thought her quite beautiful, and danced with her twice. Only 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 of all, he asked Miss Lucas. I was so vexed to see him stand up with her; but, however, he did not admire her at all: indeed, nobody can, you know; and he seemed quite struck with Jane as she was going down the dance. So, he enquired who she was, and got introduced, and asked her for the two next. Then, the two third he danced with Miss King, and the two fourth with Maria Lucas, and the two fifth with Jane again, and the two sixth with Lizzy, and the Boulanger --''
``If he 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 ancle 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 any thing 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 seek another branch of the subject, and related, with much bitterness of spirit and some exaggeration, the shocking rudeness of Mr. Darcy.
``But I can assure you,'' she added, ``that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with! I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set downs. I quite detest the man.''
WHEN Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much she admired him.
``He is just what a young man ought to be,'' said she, ``sensible, good humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners! -- so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!''
``He is also handsome,'' replied Elizabeth, ``which a young man ought likewise to be, if he possibly can. His character is thereby complete.''
``I was very much flattered by his asking me to dance a second time. I did not expect such a compliment.''
``Did not you? I did for you. But that is one great difference between us. Compliments always take you by surprise, and me never. What could be more natural than his asking you again? He could not help seeing that you were about five times as pretty as every other woman in the room. No thanks to his gallantry for that. Well, he certainly is very agreeable, and I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.''
``Dear Lizzy!''
``Oh! you are a great deal too apt, you know, to like people in general. You never see a fault in any body. All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes. I never heard you speak ill of a human being in my life.''
``I would wish not to be hasty in censuring any one; but I always speak what I think.''
``I know you do; and it is that which makes the wonder. With your good sense, to be honestly blind to the follies and nonsense of others! Affectation of candour is common enough; -- one meets it every where. But to be candid without ostentation or design -- to take the good of every body's character and make it still better, and say nothing of the bad -- belongs to you alone. And so, you like this man's sisters too, do you? Their manners are not equal to his.''
``Certainly not; at first. But they are very pleasing women when you converse with them. Miss Bingley is to live with her brother and keep his house; and I am much mistaken if we shall not find a very charming neighbour in her.''
Elizabeth listened in silence, but was not convinced. Their behaviour at the assembly had not been calculated to please in general; and with more quickness of observation and less pliancy of temper than her sister, and with a judgment, too, unassailed by any attention to herself, she was very little disposed to approve them. They were in fact very fine ladies, not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of being agreeable where they chose it; but proud and conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first private seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of rank; and were therefore in every respect entitled to think well of themselves, and meanly of others. They were of a respectable family in the north of England; a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother's fortune and their own had been acquired by trade.
Mr. Bingley inherited property to the amount of nearly an hundred thousand pounds from his father, who had intended to purchase an estate, but did not live to do it. -- Mr. Bingley intended it likewise, and sometimes made choice of his county; but as he was now provided with a good house and the liberty of a manor, it was doubtful to many of those who best knew the easiness of his temper, whether he might not spend the remainder of his days at Netherfield, and leave the next generation to purchase.
His sisters were very anxious for his having an estate of his own; but though he was now established only as a tenant, Miss Bingley was by no means unwilling to preside at his table, nor was Mrs. Hurst, who had married a man of more fashion than fortune, less disposed to consider his house as her home when it suited her. Mr. Bingley had not been of age two years, when he was tempted by an accidental recommendation to look at Netherfield House. He did look at it and into it for half an hour, was pleased with the situation and the principal rooms, satisfied with what the owner said in its praise, and took it immediately.
Between him and Darcy there was a very steady friendship, in spite of a great opposition of character. -- Bingley was endeared to Darcy by the easiness, openness, ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy's regard Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgment the highest opinion. In understanding, Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared; Darcy was continually giving offence.
The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic. Bingley had never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in his life; every body had been most kind and attentive to him, there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much.
Mrs. Hurst and her sister allowed it to be so -- but still they admired her and liked her, and pronounced her to be a sweet girl, and one whom they should not object to know more of. Miss Bennet was therefore established as a sweet girl, and their brother felt authorised by such commendation to think of her as he chose.
WITHIN a short walk of Longbourn lived a family with whom the Bennets were particularly intimate. Sir William Lucas had been formerly in trade in Meryton, where he had made a tolerable fortune and risen to the honour of knighthood by an address to the King during his mayoralty. The distinction had perhaps been felt too strongly. It had given him a disgust to his business and to his residence in a small market town; and quitting them both, he had removed with his family to a house about a mile from Meryton, denominated from that period Lucas Lodge, where he could think with pleasure of his own importance, and, unshackled by business, occupy himself solely in being civil to all the world. For though elated by his rank, it did not render him supercilious; on the contrary, he was all attention to every body. By nature inoffensive, friendly and obliging, his presentation at St. James's had made him courteous.
Lady Lucas was a very good kind of woman, not too clever to be a valuable neighbour to Mrs. Bennet. -- They had several children. The eldest of them, a sensible, intelligent young woman, about twenty-seven, was Elizabeth's intimate friend.
That the Miss Lucases and the Miss Bennets should meet to talk over a ball was absolutely necessary; and the morning after the assembly brought the former to Longbourn to hear and to communicate.
``You began the evening well, Charlotte,'' said Mrs. Bennet with civil self-command to Miss Lucas. ``You were Mr. Bingley's first choice.''
``Yes; -- but he seemed to like his second better.''
``Oh! -- you mean Jane, I suppose -- because he danced with her twice. To be sure that did seem as if he admired her -- indeed I rather believe he did -- I heard something about it -- but I hardly know what -- something about Mr. Robinson.''
``Perhaps you mean what I overheard between him and Mr. Robinson; did not I mention it to you? Mr. Robinson's asking him how he liked our Meryton assemblies, and whether he did not think there were a great many pretty women in the room, and which he thought the prettiest? and his answering immediately to the last question -- "Oh! the eldest Miss Bennet beyond a doubt, there cannot be two opinions on that point."''
``Upon my word! -- Well, that was very decided indeed -- that does seem as if -- but, however, it may all come to nothing, you know.''
``My overhearings were more to the purpose than yours, Eliza,'' said Charlotte. ``Mr. Darcy is not so well worth listening to as his friend, is he? -- Poor Eliza! -- to be only just tolerable.''
``I beg you would not put it into Lizzy's head to be vexed by his ill-treatment; for he is such a disagreeable man that it would be quite a misfortune to be liked by him. Mrs. Long told me last night that he sat close to her for half an hour without once opening his lips.''
``Are you quite sure, Ma'am? -- is not there a little mistake?'' said Jane. -- ``I certainly saw Mr. Darcy speaking to her.''
``Aye -- because she asked him at last how he liked Netherfield, and he could not help answering her; -- but she said he seemed very angry at being spoke to.''
``Miss Bingley told me,'' said Jane, ``that he never speaks much unless among his intimate acquaintance. With them he is remarkably agreeable.''
``I do not believe a word of it, my dear. If he had been so very agreeable, he would have talked to Mrs. Long. But I can guess how it was; every body says that he is ate up with pride, and I dare say he had heard somehow that Mrs. Long does not keep a carriage, and had come to the ball in a hack chaise.''
``I do not mind his not talking to Mrs. Long,'' said Miss Lucas, ``but I wish he had danced with Eliza.''
``Another time, Lizzy,'' said her mother, ``I would not dance with him, if I were you.''
``I believe, Ma'am, I may safely promise you never to dance with him.''
``His pride,'' said Miss Lucas, ``does not offend me so much as pride often does, because there is an excuse for it. One cannot wonder that so very fine a young man, with family, fortune, every thing in his favour, should think highly of himself. If I may so express it, he has a right to be proud.''
``That is very true,'' replied Elizabeth, ``and I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.''
``Pride,'' observed Mary, who piqued herself upon the solidity of her reflections, ``is a very common failing I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed, that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonimously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.''
``If I were as rich as Mr. Darcy,'' cried a young Lucas who came with his sisters, ``I should not care how proud I was. I would keep a pack of foxhounds, and drink a bottle of wine every day.''
``Then you would drink a great deal more than you ought,'' said Mrs. Bennet; ``and if I were to see you at it, I should take away your bottle directly.''
The boy protested that she should not; she continued to declare that she would, and the argument ended only with the visit.
THE ladies of Longbourn soon waited on those of Netherfield. The visit was returned in due form. Miss Bennet's pleasing manners grew on the good will of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and though the mother was found to be intolerable and the younger sisters not worth speaking to, a wish of being better acquainted with them was expressed towards the two eldest. By Jane this attention was received with the greatest pleasure; but Elizabeth still saw superciliousness in their treatment of every body, hardly excepting even her sister, and could not like them; though their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother's admiration. It was generally evident whenever they met, that he did admire her; and to her it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united with great strength of feeling a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.
``It may perhaps be pleasant,'' replied Charlotte, ``to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely -- a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better shew more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on.''
``But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to discover it too.''
``Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's disposition as you do.''
``But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out.''
``Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as much as she chuses.''
``Your plan is a good one,'' replied Elizabeth, ``where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married; and if I were determined to get a rich husband, or any husband, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Jane's feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard, nor of its reasonableness. She has known him only a fortnight. She danced four dances with him at Meryton; she saw him one morning at his own house, and has since dined in company with him four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand his character.''
``Not as you represent it. Had she merely dined with him, she might only have discovered whether he had a good appetite; but you must remember that four evenings have been also spent together -- and four evenings may do a great deal.''
``Yes; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both like Vingt-un better than Commerce; but with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.''
``Well,'' said Charlotte, ``I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar before-hand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always contrive to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.''
``You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.''
Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister, Elizabeth was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of his friend. Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she had hardly a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; -- to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable no where, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.
He began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversation with others. His doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas's, where a large party were assembled. ``What does Mr. Darcy mean,'' said she to Charlotte, ``by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?''
``That is a question which Mr. Darcy only can answer.''
``But if he does it any more, I shall certainly let him know that I see what he is about. He has a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of him.''
On his approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a subject to him, which immediately provoking Elizabeth to do it, she turned to him and said,
``Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teazing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?''
``With great energy; -- but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic.''
``You are severe on us.''
``It will be her turn soon to be teazed,'' said Miss Lucas. ``I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows.''
``You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! -- always wanting me to play and sing before any body and every body! -- If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.'' On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, ``Very well; if it must be so, it must.'' And gravely glancing at Mr. Darcy, ``There is a fine old saying, which every body here is of course familiar with -- "Keep your breath to cool your porridge," -- and I shall keep mine to swell my song.''
Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.
Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Elizabeth, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.
Mr. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by his own thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began.
``What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! -- There is nothing like dancing after all. -- I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies.''
``Certainly, Sir; -- and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. -- Every savage can dance.''
Sir William only smiled. ``Your friend performs delightfully;'' he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; -- ``and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy.''
``You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, Sir.''
``Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?''
``Never, sir.''
``Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?''
``It is a compliment which I never pay to any place, if I can avoid it.''
``You have a house in town, I conclude?''
Mr. Darcy bowed.
``I had once some thoughts of fixing in town myself -- for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.''
He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to make any; and Elizabeth at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the notion of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her,
``My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? -- Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. -- You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you.'' And taking her hand, he would have given it to Mr. Darcy, who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William,
``Indeed, Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. -- I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.''
Mr. Darcy with grave propriety requested to be allowed the honour of her hand; but in vain. Elizabeth was determined; nor did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.
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``You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour.''
``Mr. Darcy is all politeness,'' said Elizabeth, smiling.
``He is indeed -- but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a partner?''
Elizabeth looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured her with the gentleman, and he was thinking of her with some complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley.
``I can guess the subject of your reverie.''
``I should imagine not.''
``You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner -- in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! -- What would I give to hear your strictures on them!''
``Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.''
Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Mr. Darcy replied with great intrepidity,
``Miss Elizabeth Bennet.''
``Miss Elizabeth Bennet!'' repeated Miss Bingley. ``I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? -- and pray when am I to wish you joy?''
``That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.''
``Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always at Pemberley with you.''
He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner, and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.
MR. BENNET'S property consisted almost entirely in an estate of two thousand a year, which, unfortunately for his daughters, was entailed, in default of heirs male, on a distant relation; and their mother's fortune, though ample for her situation in life, could but ill supply the deficiency of his. Her father had been an attorney in Meryton, and had left her four thousand pounds.
She had a sister married to a Mr. Phillips, who had been a clerk to their father, and succeeded him in the business, and a brother settled in London in a respectable line of trade.
The village of Longbourn was only one mile from Meryton; a most convenient distance for the young ladies, who were usually tempted thither three or four times a week, to pay their duty to their aunt, and to a milliner's shop just over the way. The two youngest of the family, Catherine and Lydia, were particularly frequent in these attentions; their minds were more vacant than their sisters', and when nothing better offered, a walk to Meryton was necessary to amuse their morning hours and furnish conversation for the evening; and however bare of news the country in general might be, they always contrived to learn some from their aunt. At present, indeed, they were well supplied both with news and happiness by the recent arrival of a militia regiment in the neighbourhood; it was to remain the whole winter, and Meryton was the head quarters.
Their visits to Mrs. Philips were now productive of the most interesting intelligence. Every day added something to their knowledge of the officers' names and connections. Their lodgings were not long a secret, and at length they began to know the officers themselves. Mr. Philips visited them all, and this opened to his nieces a source of felicity unknown before. They could talk of nothing but officers; and Mr. Bingley's large fortune, the mention of which gave animation to their mother, was worthless in their eyes when opposed to the regimentals of an ensign.
After listening one morning to their effusions on this subject, Mr. Bennet coolly observed,
``From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced.''
Catherine was disconcerted, and made no answer; but Lydia, with perfect indifference, continued to express her admiration of Captain Carter, and her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London.
``I am astonished, my dear,'' said Mrs. Bennet, ``that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of any body's children, it should not be of my own, however.''
``If my children are silly I must hope to be always sensible of it.''
``Yes -- but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.''
``This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish.''
``My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. -- When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well -- and indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls, I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William's in his regimentals.''
``Mama,'' cried Lydia, ``my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library.''
Mrs. Bennet was prevented replying by the entrance of the footman with a note for Miss Bennet; it came from Netherfield, and the servant waited for an answer. Mrs. Bennet's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and she was eagerly calling out, while her daughter read,
``Well, Jane, who is it from? what is it about? what does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.''
``It is from Miss Bingley,'' said Jane, and then read it aloud.
``My dear Friend,
IF you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tête-à-tête between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. Yours ever,
CAROLINE BINGLEY.''
``With the officers!'' cried Lydia. ``I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that.''
``Dining out,'' said Mrs. Bennet, ``that is very unlucky.''
``Can I have the carriage?'' said Jane.
``No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night.''
``That would be a good scheme,'' said Elizabeth, ``if you were sure that they would not offer to send her home.''
``Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton; and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.''
``I had much rather go in the coach.''
``But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are not they?''
``They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.''
``But if you have got them to-day,'' said Elizabeth, ``my mother's purpose will be answered.''
She did at last extort from her father an acknowledgment that the horses were engaged. Jane was therefore obliged to go on horseback, and her mother attended her to the door with many cheerful prognostics of a bad day. Her hopes were answered; Jane had not been gone long before it rained hard. Her sisters were uneasy for her, but her mother was delighted. The rain continued the whole evening without intermission; Jane certainly could not come back.
``This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!'' said Mrs. Bennet, more than once, as if the credit of making it rain were all her own. Till the next morning, however, she was not aware of all the felicity of her contrivance. Breakfast was scarcely over when a servant from Netherfield brought the following note for Elizabeth:
``My dearest Lizzy,
I FIND myself very unwell this morning, which, I suppose, is to be imputed to my getting wet through yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of my returning home till I am better. They insist also on my seeing Mr. Jones -- therefore do not be alarmed if you should hear of his having been to me -- and excepting a sore throat and head-ache, there is not much the matter with me.
Yours, &c.''
``Well, my dear,'' said Mr. Bennet, when Elizabeth had read the note aloud, ``if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness, if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.''
``Oh! I am not at all afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long is she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her, if I could have the carriage.''
Elizabeth, feeling really anxious, was determined to go to her, though the carriage was not to be had; and as she was no horse-woman, walking was her only alternative. She declared her resolution.
``How can you be so silly,'' cried her mother, ``as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.''
``I shall be very fit to see Jane -- which is all I want.''
``Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,'' said her father, ``to send for the horses?''
``No, indeed. I do not wish to avoid the walk. The distance is nothing, when one has a motive; only three miles. I shall be back by dinner.''
``I admire the activity of your benevolence,'' observed Mary, ``but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.''
``We will go as far as Meryton with you,'' said Catherine and Lydia. -- Elizabeth accepted their company, and the three young ladies set off together.
``If we make haste,'' said Lydia, as they walked along, ``perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes.''
In Meryton they parted; the two youngest repaired to the lodgings of one of the officers' wives, and Elizabeth continued her walk alone, crossing field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, and finding herself at last within view of the house, with weary ancles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise.
She was shewn into the breakfast-parlour, where all but Jane were assembled, and where her appearance created a great deal of surprise. -- That she should have walked three miles so early in the day, in such dirty weather, and by herself, was almost incredible to Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley; and Elizabeth was convinced that they held her in contempt for it. She was received, however, very politely by them; and in their brother's manners there was something better than politeness; there was good humour and kindness. -- Mr. Darcy said very little, and Mr. Hurst nothing at all. The former was divided between admiration of the brilliancy which exercise had given to her complexion, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone. The latter was thinking only of his breakfast.
Her enquiries after her sister were not very favourably answered. Miss Bennet had slept ill, and though up, was very feverish and not well enough to leave her room. Elizabeth was glad to be taken to her immediately; and Jane, who had only been withheld by the fear of giving alarm or inconvenience, from expressing in her note how much she longed for such a visit, was delighted at her entrance. She was not equal, however, to much conversation, and when Miss Bingley left them together, could attempt little beside expressions of gratitude for the extraordinary kindness she was treated with. Elizabeth silently attended her.
When breakfast was over, they were joined by the sisters, and Elizabeth began to like them herself, when she saw how much affection and solicitude they shewed for Jane. The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavour to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was followed readily, for the feverish symptoms increased, and her head ached acutely. Elizabeth did not quit her room for a moment, nor were the other ladies often absent; the gentlemen being out, they had in fact nothing to do elsewhere.
When the clock struck three, Elizabeth felt that she must go; and very unwillingly said so. Miss Bingley offered her the carriage, and she only wanted a little pressing to accept it, when Jane testified such concern in parting with her that Miss Bingley was obliged to convert the offer of the chaise into an invitation to remain at Netherfield for the present. Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring back a supply of clothes.
AT five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil enquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley's, she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves, and then thought no more of the matter; and their indifference towards Jane, when not immediately before them, restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her original dislike.
Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by whom Elizabeth sat, he was an indolent man, who lived only to eat, drink, and play at cards, who, when he found her prefer a plain dish to a ragout, had nothing to say to her.
When dinner was over, she returned directly to Jane, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no stile, no taste, no beauty. Mrs. Hurst thought the same, and added,
``She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild.''
``She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy!''
``Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office.''
``Your picture may be very exact, Louisa,'' said Bingley; ``but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well, when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice.''
``You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,'' said Miss Bingley, ``and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.''
``Certainly not.''
``To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ancles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! what could she mean by it? It seems to me to shew an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum.''
``It shews an affection for her sister that is very pleasing,'' said Bingley.
``I am afraid, Mr. Darcy,'' observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, ``that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes.''
``Not at all,'' he replied; ``they were brightened by the exercise.'' -- A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again.
``I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it.''
``I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton.''
``Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside.''
``That is capital,'' added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.
``If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside,'' cried Bingley, ``it would not make them one jot less agreeable.''
``But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world,'' replied Darcy.
To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.
With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to her room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee. She was still very poorly, and Elizabeth would not quit her at all till late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep, and when it appeared to her rather right than pleasant that she should go down stairs herself. On entering the drawing-room she found the whole party at loo, and was immediately invited to join them; but suspecting them to be playing high she declined it, and making her sister the excuse, said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.
``Do you prefer reading to cards?'' said he; ``that is rather singular.''
``Miss Eliza Bennet,'' said Miss Bingley, ``despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else.''
``I deserve neither such praise nor such censure,'' cried Elizabeth; ``I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.''
``In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure,'' said Bingley; ``and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well.''
Elizabeth thanked him from her heart, and then walked towards a table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others; all that his library afforded.
``And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever look into.''
Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.
``I am astonished,'' said Miss Bingley, ``that my father should have left so small a collection of books. -- What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!''
``It ought to be good,'' he replied, ``it has been the work of many generations.''
``And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books.''
``I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these.''
``Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley.''
``I wish it may.''
``But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire.''
``With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it.''
``I am talking of possibilities, Charles.''
``Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation.''
Elizabeth was so much caught by what passed, as to leave her very little attention for her book; and soon laying it wholly aside, she drew near the card-table, and stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister to observe the game.
``Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?'' said Miss Bingley; ``will she be as tall as I am?''
``I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller.''
``How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the piano-forte is exquisite.''
``It is amazing to me,'' said Bingley, ``how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.''
``All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?''
``Yes all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover skreens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.''
``Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,'' said Darcy, ``has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse, or covering a skreen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.''
``Nor I, I am sure,'' said Miss Bingley.
``Then,'' observed Elizabeth, ``you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished women.''
``Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it.''
``Oh! certainly,'' cried his faithful assistant, ``no one can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved.''
``All this she must possess,'' added Darcy, ``and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.''
``I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any.''
``Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?''
``I never saw such a woman, I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united.''
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.
``Eliza Bennet,'' said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, ``is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own, and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art.''
``Undoubtedly,'' replied Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, ``there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable.''
Miss Bingley was not so entirely satisfied with this reply as to continue the subject.
Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones's being sent for immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of, but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother's proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better. Bingley was quite uncomfortable; his sisters declared that they were miserable. They solaced their wretchedness, however, by duets after supper, while he could find no better relief to his feelings than by giving his housekeeper directions that every possible attention might be paid to the sick lady and her sister.
ELIZABETH passed the chief of the night in her sister's room, and in the morning had the pleasure of being able to send a tolerable answer to the enquiries which she very early received from Mr. Bingley by a housemaid, and some time afterwards from the two elegant ladies who waited on his sisters. In spite of this amendment, however, she requested to have a note sent to Longbourn, desiring her mother to visit Jane, and form her own judgment of her situation. The note was immediately dispatched, and its contents as quickly complied with. Mrs. Bennet, accompanied by her two youngest girls, reached Netherfield soon after the family breakfast.
Had she found Jane in any apparent danger, Mrs. Bennet would have been very miserable; but being satisfied on seeing her, that her illness was not alarming, she had no wish of her recovering immediately, as her restoration to health would probably remove her from Netherfield. She would not listen therefore to her daughter's proposal of being carried home; neither did the apothecary, who arrived about the same time, think it at all advisable. After sitting a little while with Jane, on Miss Bingley's appearance and invitation the mother and three daughters all attended her into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.
``Indeed I have, Sir,'' was her answer. ``She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness.''
``Removed!'' cried Bingley. ``It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal.''
``You may depend upon it, Madam,'' said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, ``that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us.''
Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments.
``I am sure,'' she added, ``if it was not for such good friends I do not know what would become of her, for she is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world -- which is always the way with her, for she has, without exception, the sweetest temper I ever met with. I often tell my other girls they are nothing to her. You have a sweet room here, Mr. Bingley, and a charming prospect over that gravel walk. I do not know a place in the country that is equal to Netherfield. You will not think of quitting it in a hurry I hope, though you have but a short lease.''
``Whatever I do is done in a hurry,'' replied he; ``and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here.''
``That is exactly what I should have supposed of you,'' said Elizabeth.
``You begin to comprehend me, do you?'' cried he, turning towards her.
``Oh! yes -- I understand you perfectly.''
``I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful.''
``That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours.''
``Lizzy,'' cried her mother, ``remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home.''
``I did not know before,'' continued Bingley immediately, ``that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study.''
``Yes; but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage.''
``The country,'' said Darcy, ``can in general supply but few subjects for such a study. In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society.''
``But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them for ever.''
``Yes, indeed,'' cried Mrs. Bennet, offended by his manner of mentioning a country neighbourhood. ``I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town.''
Every body was surprised; and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away. Mrs. Bennet, who fancied she had gained a complete victory over him, continued her triumph.
``I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?''
``When I am in the country,'' he replied, ``I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either.''
``Aye -- that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman,'' looking at Darcy, ``seemed to think the country was nothing at all.''
``Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken,'' said Elizabeth, blushing for her mother. ``You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there were not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true.''
``Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families.''
Nothing but concern for Elizabeth could enable Bingley to keep his countenance. His sister was less delicate, and directed her eye towards Mr. Darcy with a very expressive smile. Elizabeth, for the sake of saying something that might turn her mother's thoughts, now asked her if Charlotte Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.
``Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley -- is not he? so much the man of fashion! so genteel and so easy! -- He has always something to say to every body. -- That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter.''
``Did Charlotte dine with you?''
``No, she would go home. I fancy she was wanted about the mince pies. For my part, Mr. Bingley, I always keep servants that can do their own work; my daughters are brought up differently. But every body is to judge for themselves, and the Lucases are very good sort of girls, I assure you. It is a pity they are not handsome! Not that I think Charlotte so very plain -- but then she is our particular friend.''
``She seems a very pleasant young woman,'' said Bingley.
``Oh! dear, yes; -- but you must own she is very plain. Lady Lucas herself has often said so, and envied me Jane's beauty. I do not like to boast of my own child, but to be sure, Jane -- one does not often see any body better looking. It is what every body says. I do not trust my own partiality. When she was only fifteen, there was a gentleman at my brother Gardiner's in town, so much in love with her, that my sister-in-law was sure he would make her an offer before we came away. But however he did not. Perhaps he thought her too young. However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were.''
``And so ended his affection,'' said Elizabeth impatiently. ``There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!''
``I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,'' said Darcy.
``Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.''
Darcy only smiled, and the general pause which ensued made Elizabeth tremble lest her mother should be exposing herself again. She longed to speak, but could think of nothing to say; and after a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Mr. Bingley for his kindness to Jane with an apology for troubling him also with Lizzy. Mr. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part, indeed, without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet was satisfied, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, the youngest of her daughters put herself forward. The two girls had been whispering to each other during the whole visit, and the result of it was, that the youngest should tax Mr. Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.
Lydia was a stout, well-grown girl of fifteen, with a fine complexion and good-humoured countenance; a favourite with her mother, whose affection had brought her into public at an early age. She had high animal spirits, and a sort of natural self-consequence, which the attentions of the officers, to whom her uncle's good dinners and her own easy manners recommended her, had increased into assurance. She was very equal, therefore, to address Mr. Bingley on the subject of the ball, and abruptly reminded him of his promise; adding, that it would be the most shameful thing in the world if he did not keep it. His answer to this sudden attack was delightful to their mother's ear.
``I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement, and when your sister is recovered, you shall if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill.''
Lydia declared herself satisfied. ``Oh! yes -- it would be much better to wait till Jane was well, and by that time most likely Captain Carter would be at Meryton again. And when you have given your ball,'' she added, ``I shall insist on their giving one also. I shall tell Colonel Forster it will be quite a shame if he does not.''
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Elizabeth returned instantly to Jane, leaving her own and her relations' behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Mr. Darcy; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley's witticisms on fine eyes.
THE day passed much as the day before had done. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had spent some hours of the morning with the invalid, who continued, though slowly, to mend; and in the evening Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing room. The loo table, however, did not appear. Mr. Darcy was writing, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter, and repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. Mr. Hurst and Mr. Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.
Elizabeth took up some needlework, and was sufficiently amused in attending to what passed between Darcy and his companion. The perpetual commendations of the lady either on his hand-writing, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern with which her praises were received, formed a curious dialogue, and was exactly in unison with her opinion of each.
``How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!''
He made no answer.
``You write uncommonly fast.''
``You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.''
``How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of the year! Letters of business too! How odious I should think them!''
``It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours.''
``Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.''
``I have already told her so once, by your desire.''
``I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well.''
``Thank you -- but I always mend my own.''
``How can you contrive to write so even?''
He was silent.
``Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's.''
``Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? -- At present I have not room to do them justice.''
``Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?''
``They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me to determine.''
``It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter, with ease, cannot write ill.''
``That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline,'' cried her brother -- ``because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. -- Do not you, Darcy?''
``My stile of writing is very different from yours.''
``Oh!'' cried Miss Bingley, ``Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest.''
``My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them -- by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.''
``Your humility, Mr. Bingley,'' said Elizabeth, ``must disarm reproof.''
``Nothing is more deceitful,'' said Darcy, ``than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.''
``And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?''
``The indirect boast; -- for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing any thing with quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself -- and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or any one else?''
``Nay,'' cried Bingley, ``this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I believed what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment. At least, therefore, I did not assume the character of needless precipitance merely to shew off before the ladies.''
``I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependant on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, "Bingley, you had better stay till next week," you would probably do it, you would probably not go -- and, at another word, might stay a month.''
``You have only proved by this,'' cried Elizabeth, ``that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shewn him off now much more than he did himself.''
``I am exceedingly gratified,'' said Bingley, ``by your converting what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think the better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could.''
``Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?''
``Upon my word I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must speak for himself.''
``You expect me to account for opinions which you chuse to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety.''
``To yield readily -- easily -- to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you.''
``To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either.''
``You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?''
``Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?''
``By all means,'' cried Bingley; ``Let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more aweful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening when he has nothing to do.''
Mr. Darcy smiled; but Elizabeth thought she could perceive that he was rather offended; and therefore checked her laugh. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received, in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense.
``I see your design, Bingley,'' said his friend. -- ``You dislike an argument, and want to silence this.''
``Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me.''
``What you ask,'' said Elizabeth, ``is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter.''
Mr. Darcy took her advice, and did finish his letter.
When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to the piano-forte, and after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself.
Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music books that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy's eyes were fixed on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great man; and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine however, at last, that she drew his notice because there was a something about her more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present. The supposition did not pain her. She liked him too little to care for his approbation.
After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near Elizabeth, said to her --
``Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?''
She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some surprise at her silence.
``Oh!'' said she, ``I heard you before; but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say "Yes," that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all -- and now despise me if you dare.''
``Indeed I do not dare.''
Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger.
Miss Bingley saw, or suspected, enough to be jealous; and her great anxiety for the recovery of her dear friend Jane received some assistance from her desire of getting rid of Elizabeth.
She often tried to provoke Darcy into disliking her guest, by talking of their supposed marriage, and planning his happiness in such an alliance.
``I hope,'' said she, as they were walking together in the shrubbery the next day, ``you will give your mother-in-law a few hints, when this desirable event takes place, as to the advantage of holding her tongue; and if you can compass it, do cure the younger girls of running after the officers. -- And, if I may mention so delicate a subject, endeavour to check that little something, bordering on conceit and impertinence, which your lady possesses.''
``Have you any thing else to propose for my domestic felicity?''
``Oh! yes. -- Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Philips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great uncle, the judge. They are in the same profession, you know; only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not attempt to have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?''
``It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eye-lashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied.''
At that moment they were met from another walk, by Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth herself.
``I did not know that you intended to walk,'' said Miss Bingley, in some confusion, lest they had been overheard.
``You used us abominably ill,'' answered Mrs. Hurst, ``in running away without telling us that you were coming out.'' Then taking the disengaged arm of Mr. Darcy, she left Elizabeth to walk by herself. The path just admitted three.
Mr. Darcy felt their rudeness and immediately said, --
``This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.''
But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, laughingly answered,
``No, no; stay where you are. -- You are charmingly group'd, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good bye.''
She then ran gaily off, rejoicing, as she rambled about, in the hope of being at home again in a day or two. Jane was already so much recovered as to intend leaving her room for a couple of hours that evening.
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He'd never seen one before.]]
[[Film/DallasBuyersClub He'd never been curious enough. That, and interaction with humans usually ended less than peaceful. So his knowledge about them was relatively basic at best.
[[Film/DallasBuyersClub He'd never been curious enough. That, and interaction with humans usually ended less than peaceful. So his knowledge about them was relatively basic at best.
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He'd never seen one before.]]
[[Film/DallasBuyersClubbefore.
He'd never been curious enough. That, and interaction with humans usually ended less than peaceful. So his knowledge about them was relatively basic at best.
[[Film/DallasBuyersClub
He'd never been curious enough. That, and interaction with humans usually ended less than peaceful. So his knowledge about them was relatively basic at best.
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We\'re the goof troop. And we always stick together.
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* ActorAllusion: In her review of ''Anime/PrincessTutu'', she says, "I see a [[Manga/OuranHighSchoolHostClub host club]] in [[VicMignogna someone's]] future..." on a clip of Femio.
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: She reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where she looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
* ScheduleSlip:
** JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
** She recently stated on [[http://www.formspring.me/JesuOtaku her new Formspring account]] that they will continue, but they'll come as they're done, like Linkara's WebVideo/HistoryOfPowerRangers.
----
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: She reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where she looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
* ScheduleSlip:
** JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
** She recently stated on [[http://www.formspring.me/JesuOtaku her new Formspring account]] that they will continue, but they'll come as they're done, like Linkara's WebVideo/HistoryOfPowerRangers.
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to:
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And lo, doth the Internet sleep. Dreaming, dreaming of
Warbling synths began to flow through the air, a haunting voice fading in from a distance, slowly overpowering the synth... "You know you want me." The voice rang throughout the lands, causing everyone to stop fighting. "I
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder:
"Here's the situation; Been to every nation, nobody's ever made me feel the way that you do." ... Yes, the King and Queen were very well acquainted with the many lands foreigners were from. Now, people were scratching their heads. "You know my motivation, given my reputation." ... The King and Queen had a very respectable history. What on earth could it mean? "Please excuse me, I don't mean to be rude." ... People perked their heads a bit, before tilting them in confusion.
"But tonight I'm fucking you." The King and Queen raised their staves, drawing them together, and incinerated the land in one fell swoop.
------
Like father, like son.
You're always number one.
わ―\―\―\―\もういいですそういうの!
今日も
同じ一日が始まる
誰よりも他人の目を気にして
「実際かわいい日もあるよ?勘違いじゃないし」
「無視かよ...」
あの時の気持ちが
変わってしまうのがこわくて
「わいわいは嫌いなの 一緒にされたくないし」
そんな僕らを無視して
「生きて行こう!」とおっしゃってる
「優しくされて ちょうどいい」
I\'m on my way to finding my way.
健気なの察しろや!
夢のない時代よ 目を覚まして
私がモテる未来まで この世界を赦さない
モテた者は遠慮せい これ以上は遠慮せい
無駄な抵抗はやめて
ホレろ ホレろ ホレろ ホレろ
モテろ モテろ モテろ モテろ
全てが変わる未来で会おう
私がモテないのはどう考えてもお前らが悪い!
Yeah!
This is a song of hope,
for those who feel loneliness.
What can they do for the future,
those who never knew this sorrow.
CHECK IT, BREAK DOWN
みんなが好きだから 正しいとか
そういうのやめろや
うるさい時代よ ちょっと黙って
私がモテる未来まで 何もする気が起こらない
騒ぐ者は遠慮せい 発言にも気をつけい
哀しい目に気づいて
I\'m on my way to finding my way.
健気なの察しろや
夢のない時代よ 目を覚まして
私がモテる未来まで この世界を赦さない
モテた者は遠慮せい これ以上は遠慮せい
私はここにいるよ!
ホレろ ホレろ ホレろ ホレろ
モテろ モテろ モテろ モテろ
全てが変わる未来で会おう
ん～ 1 2 3 4!
私がモテないのはどう考えてもお前らが悪い!
Best buddies, best pals.
You always seem to work things out.
Can't you see you're two of a kind?
Looking for a real good time
Report to the Goof Troop
And we'll always stick together
We're the Goof Troop
Best of friends forever
Side by side where ever you go
We're always ready to roll
We're the Goof Troop
And we always stick together
Oh, we're the Goof Troop
Best of friends forever
To be, or not to be, that is the question—
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep—
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,
The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,
The pangs of despised Love, the Law’s delay,
The insolence of Office, and the Spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would these Fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn
No Traveler returns, Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the Native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their Currents turn awry,
And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia. Nymph, in all thy Orisons
Be thou all my sins remembered.
Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say
What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
Which in the very thought renews the fear.
So bitter is it, death is little more;
But of the good to treat, which there I found,
Speak will I of the other things I saw there.
I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
So full was I of slumber at the moment
In which I had abandoned the true way.
But after I had reached a mountain's foot,
At that point where the valley terminated,
Which had with consternation pierced my heart,
Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,
Vested already with that planet's rays
Which leadeth others right by every road.
Then was the fear a little quieted
That in my heart's lake had endured throughout
The night, which I had passed so piteously.
And even as he, who, with distressful breath,
Forth issued from the sea upon the shore,
Turns to the water perilous and gazes;
So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward,
Turn itself back to re-behold the pass
Which never yet a living person left.
After my weary body I had rested,
The way resumed I on the desert slope,
So that the firm foot ever was the lower.
And lo! almost where the ascent began,
A panther light and swift exceedingly,
Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er!
And never moved she from before my face,
Nay, rather did impede so much my way,
That many times I to return had turned.
The time was the beginning of the morning,
And up the sun was mounting with those stars
That with him were, what time the Love Divine
At first in motion set those beauteous things;
So were to me occasion of good hope,
The variegated skin of that wild beast,
The hour of time, and the delicious season;
But not so much, that did not give me fear
A lion's aspect which appeared to me.
He seemed as if against me he were coming
With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger,
So that it seemed the air was afraid of him;
And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings
Seemed to be laden in her meagreness,
And many folk has caused to live forlorn!
She
With the affright that from her aspect came,
That I the hope relinquished of the height.
And as he is who willingly acquires,
And the time comes that causes him to lose,
Who weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent,
E'en such made me that beast withouten peace,
Which, coming on against me by degrees
Thrust me back thither where the sun is silent.
While I was rushing downward to the lowland,
Before mine eyes did one present himself,
Who seemed from long-continued silence hoarse.
When I beheld him in the desert vast,
"Have pity on me," unto him I cried,
"Whiche'er thou art, or shade or real man!"
He answered me: "Not man; man once I was,
And both my parents were of Lombardy,
And Mantuans by country both of them.
'Sub Julio' was I born, though it was late,
And lived at Rome under the good Augustus,
During the time of false and lying gods.
A poet was I, and I sang that just
Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy,
After that Ilion the superb was burned.
But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance?
Why climb'st thou not the Mount Delectable,
Which is the source and cause of every joy?"
"Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain
Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?"
I made response to him with bashful forehead.
"O, of the other poets honour and light,
Avail me the long study and great love
That have impelled me to explore thy volume!
Thou art my master, and my author thou,
Thou art alone the one from whom I took
The beautiful style that has done honour to me.
Behold the beast, for which I have turned back;
Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage,
For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble."
"Thee it behoves to take another road,"
Responded he, when he beheld me weeping,
"If from this savage place thou wouldst escape;
Because this beast, at which thou criest out,
Suffers not any one to pass her way,
But so doth harass him, that she destroys him;
And has a nature so malign and ruthless,
That never doth she glut her greedy will,
And after food is hungrier than before.
Many the animals with whom she weds,
And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound
Comes, who shall make her perish in her pain.
He shall not feed on either earth or pelf,
But upon wisdom, and on love and virtue;
'Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall his nation be;
Of that low Italy shall he be the saviour,
On whose account the maid Camilla died,
Euryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds;
Through every city shall he hunt her down,
Until he shall have driven her back to Hell,
There from whence envy first did let her loose.
Therefore I think and judge it for thy best
Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide,
And lead thee hence through the eternal place,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations,
Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate,
Who cry out each one for the second death;
And thou shalt see those who contented are
Within the fire, because they hope to come,
Whene'er it may be, to the blessed people;
To whom, then, if thou wishest to ascend,
A soul shall be for that than I more worthy;
With her at my departure I will leave thee;
Because that Emperor, who reigns above,
In that I was rebellious to his law,
Wills that through me none come into his city.
He governs everywhere, and there he reigns;
There is his city and his lofty throne;
O happy he whom thereto he elects!"
And I to him: "Poet, I thee entreat,
By that same God whom thou didst never know,
So that I may escape this woe and worse,
Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said,
That I may see the portal of Saint Peter,
And those thou makest so disconsolate."
Then he moved on, and I behind him followed.
The Goof Troop. Best of friends forever.
For twelve years, you have been asking: Who is John Galt? This is John Galt speaking. I am the man who loves his life. I am the man who does not sacrifice his love or his values. I am the man who has deprived you of victims and thus has destroyed your world, and if you wish to know why you are perishing-you who dread knowledge-I am the man who will now tell you.”
The chief engineer was the only one able to move; he ran to a television set and struggled frantically with its dials. But the screen remained empty; the speaker had not chosen to be seen. Only his voice filled the airways of the country-of the world, thought the chief engineer-sounding as if he were speaking here, in this room, not to a group, but to one man; it was not the tone of addressing a meeting, but the tone of addressing a mind.
“You have heard it said that this is an age of moral crisis. You have said it yourself, half in fear, half in hope that the words had no meaning. You have cried that man’s sins are destroying the world and you have cursed human nature for its unwillingness to practice the virtues you demanded. Since virtue, to you, consists of sacrifice, you have demanded more sacrifices at every successive disaster. In the name of a return to morality, you have sacrificed all those evils which you held as the cause of your plight. You have sacrificed justice to mercy. You have sacrificed independence to unity. You have sacrificed reason to faith. You have sacrificed wealth to need. You have sacrificed self-esteem to self-denial. You have sacrificed happiness to duty.
“You have destroyed all that which you held to be evil and achieved all that which you held to be good. Why, then, do you shrink in horror from the sight of the world around you? That world is not the product of your sins, it is the product and the image of your virtues. It is your moral ideal brought into reality in its full and final perfection. You have fought for it, you have dreamed of it, and you have wished it, and I-I am the man who has granted you your wish.
“Your ideal had an implacable enemy, which your code of morality was designed to destroy. I have withdrawn that enemy. I have taken it out of your way and out of your reach. I have removed the source of all those evils you were sacrificing one by one. I have ended your battle. I have stopped your motor. I have deprived your world of man’s mind.
“Men do not live by the mind, you say? I have withdrawn those who do. The mind is impotent, you say? I have withdrawn those whose mind isn’t. There are values higher than the mind, you say? I have withdrawn those for whom there aren’t.
“While you were dragging to your sacrificial altars the men of justice, of independence, of reason, of wealth, of self-esteem-I beat you to it, I reached them first. I told them the nature of the game you were playing and the nature of that moral code of yours, which they had been too innocently generous to grasp. I showed them the way to live by another morality-mine. It is mine that they chose to follow.
“All the men who have vanished, the men you hated, yet dreaded to lose, it is I who have taken them away from you. Do not attempt to find us. We do not choose to be found. Do not cry that it is our duty to serve you. We do not recognize such duty. Do not cry that you need us. We do not consider need a claim. Do not cry that you own us. You don’t. Do not beg us to return. We are on strike, we, the men of the mind.
“We are on strike against self-immolation. We are on strike against the creed of unearned rewards and unrewarded duties. We are on strike against the dogma that the pursuit of one’s happiness is evil. We are on strike against the doctrine that life is guilt.
“There is a difference between our strike and all those you’ve practiced for centuries: our strike consists, not of making demands, but of granting them. We are evil, according to your morality. We have chosen not to harm you any longer. We are useless, according to your economics. We have chosen not to exploit you any longer. We are dangerous and to be shackled, according to your politics. We have chosen not to endanger you, nor to wear the shackles any longer. We are only an illusion, according to your philosophy. We have chosen not to blind you any longer and have left you free to face reality-the reality you wanted, the world as you see it now, a
“We have granted you everything you demanded of us, we who had always been the givers, but have only now understood it. We have no demands to present to you, no terms to bargain about, no compromise to reach. You have nothing to offer us. We do not need you.
“Are you now crying: No, this was not what you wanted? A mindless world of ruins was not your goal? You did not want us to leave you? You moral cannibals, I know that you’ve always known what it was that you wanted. But your game is up, because now we know it, too.
“Through centuries of scourges and disasters, brought about by your code of morality, you have cried that your code had been broken, that the scourges were punishment for breaking it, that men were too weak and too selfish to spill all the
“You wanted to know John Galt’s identity. I am the man who has asked that question.
“Yes, this is an age of moral crisis. Yes, you are bearing punishment for your evil. But it is not man who is now on trial and it is not human nature that will take the blame. It is your moral code that’s through, this time. Your moral code has reached its climax, the blind alley at the end of its course. And if you wish to go on living, what you now need is not to return to morality-you who have never known any-but to discover it.
“You have heard no concepts of morality but the mystical or the social. You have been taught that morality is a code of behavior imposed on you by whim, the whim of a supernatural power or the whim of society, to serve God’s purpose or your neighbor’s welfare, to please an authority beyond the grave or else next door-but not to serve your life or pleasure. Your pleasure, you have been taught, is to be found in immorality, your interests would best be served by evil, and any moral code must be designed not for you, but against you, not to further your life, but to drain it.
“For centuries, the battle of morality was fought between those who claimed that your life belongs to God and those who claimed that it belongs to your neighbors-between those who preached that the good is self-sacrifice for the sake of ghosts in heaven and those who preached that the good is self-sacrifice for the sake of incompetents on earth. And no one came
“Both sides agreed that morality demands the surrender of your self-interest and
* ScheduleSlip:
** JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of
“Whatever else they fought about, it was against man’s mind that all your moralists have stood united. It was man’s mind that all their schemes and systems were intended to
“Man’s mind is his basic tool of survival. Life is given to him, survival is not. His body is given to him, its sustenance is not. His mind is given to him, its content is not. To remain alive, he must act, and before he can act he must know the nature and purpose of his action. He cannot obtain his food without a knowledge of food and of the way to obtain it. He cannot dig a ditch-or build a cyclotron-without a knowledge of his aim and of the means to achieve it. To remain alive, he must think.
“But to think is an act of choice. The
“A being of volitional consciousness has no automatic course of behavior. He needs a code of values to guide his actions. ‘Value’ is that which one acts to gain and keep, ‘virtue’ is the action by which one gains and keeps it. ‘Value’ presupposes an answer to the question: of value to whom and for what? ‘Value’ presupposes a standard, a purpose and the necessity of action in the face of an alternative. Where there are no alternatives, no values are possible.
“There is only
“A plant must feed itself in order to live; the sunlight, the water, the chemicals it needs are the values its nature has set it to pursue; its life is the standard of value directing its actions. But a plant has no choice of action; there are alternatives in the conditions it encounters, but there is no alternative in its function: it acts automatically to further its life, it cannot act for its own destruction.
“An animal is equipped for sustaining its life; its senses provide it with an automatic code of action, an automatic knowledge of what is good for it or evil. It has no power to extend its knowledge or to evade it. In conditions where its knowledge proves inadequate, it dies. But so long as it lives, it acts on its knowledge, with automatic safety and no power of choice, it is unable to ignore its own good, unable to decide to choose the evil and act as its own destroyer.
“Man has no automatic code of survival. His particular distinction from all other living species is the necessity to act in the face of alternatives by means of volitional choice. He has no automatic knowledge of what is good for him or evil, what values his life depends on, what course of action it requires. Are you prattling about
“A living entity that regarded its means of survival as evil, would not survive. A plant that struggled to mangle its roots, a bird that fought to break its wings would not remain for long in the existence they affronted. But the history of man has been a struggle to deny and to destroy his mind.
“Man has been called a rational being, but rationality is a matter of choice-and the alternative his nature offers him is: rational being or suicidal animal. Man has to be man-by choice; he has to hold his life as a value-by choice: he has to learn to sustain it-by choice; he has to discover the values it requires and practice his virtues-by choice.
“A code of values accepted by choice is a code of morality.
“Whoever you are, you who are hearing me now, I am speaking to whatever living remnant is left uncorrupted within you, to the remnant of the human, to your mind, and I say: There is a morality of reason, a morality proper to man, and Man’s Life is its standard of value.
“All that which is proper to the life of a rational being is the good; all that which destroys it is the evil.
“Man’s life, as required by his nature, is not the life of a mindless brute, of a looting thug or a mooching mystic, but the life of a thinking being-not life by means of force or fraud, but life by means of achievement-not survival at any price, since there’s only one price that pays for man’s survival: reason.
“Man’s life is the standard of morality, but your own life is its purpose. If existence on earth is your goal, you must choose your actions and values by the standard of that which is proper to man-for the purpose of preserving, fulfilling and enjoying the irreplaceable value which is your life.
“Since life requires a specific course of action, any other course will destroy it. A being who does not hold his own life as the motive and goal of his actions, is acting on the motive and standard of death. Such a being is a metaphysical monstrosity, struggling to oppose, negate and contradict the fact of his own existence, running blindly amuck on a trail of destruction, capable of nothing but pain.
“Happiness is the successful state of life, pain is an agent of death. Happiness is that state of consciousness which proceeds from the achievement of one’s values. A morality that dares to tell you to find happiness in the renunciation of your happiness-to value the failure of your values-is an insolent negation of morality. A doctrine that gives you, as an ideal, the role of a sacrificial animal seeking slaughter on the altars of others, is giving you death as your standard. By the grace of reality and the nature of life, man-every man-is an end in himself, he exists for his own sake, and the achievement of his own happiness is his highest moral purpose.
“But neither life nor happiness can be achieved by the pursuit of irrational whims. Just as man is free to attempt to survive in any random manner, but will perish unless he lives as his nature requires, so he is free to seek his happiness in any mindless fraud, but the torture of frustration is all he will find, unless he seeks the happiness proper to man. The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live.
“Sweep aside those parasites of subsidized classrooms, who live on the profits of the mind of others and proclaim that man needs no morality, no values, no code of behavior. They, who pose as scientists and claim that man is only an animal, do not grant him inclusion in the law of existence they have granted to the lowest of insects. They recognize that every living species has a way of survival demanded by its nature, they do not claim that a fish can live out of water or that a dog can live without its sense of smell-but man, they claim, the most complex of beings, man can survive in any way whatever, man has no identity, no nature, and there’s no practical reason why he cannot live with his means of survival destroyed, with his mind throttled and placed at the disposal of any orders they might care to issue.
“Sweep aside those hatred-eaten mystics, who pose as friends of humanity and preach that the highest virtue man can practice is to hold his own life as of no value. Do they tell you that the purpose of morality is to curb man’s instinct of self-preservation? It is for the purpose of self-preservation that man needs a code of morality. The only man who desires to be moral is the man who desires to live.
“No, you do not have to live; it is your basic act of choice; but if you choose to live,. you must live as a man-by the work and the judgment of your mind.
“No, you do not have to live as a man; it is an act of moral choice. But you cannot live as anything else-and the alternative is that state of living death which you now see within you and around you, the state of a thing unfit for existence, no longer human and less than animal, a thing that knows nothing but pain and drags itself through its span of years in the agony of unthinking self-destruction.
“No, you do not have to think; it is an act of moral choice. But someone had to think to keep you alive; if you choose to default, you default on existence and you pass the deficit to some moral man, expecting him to sacrifice his good for the sake of letting you survive by your evil.
“No, you do not have to be a man; but today those who are, are not there any longer. I have removed your means of survival-your victims.
“If you wish to know how I have done it and what I told them to make them quit, you are hearing it now. I told them, in essence, the statement I am making tonight. They were men who had lived by my code, but had not known how great a virtue it represented. I made them see it. I brought them, not a re-evaluation, but only an identification of their values.
“We, the men of the mind, are now on strike against you in the name of a single axiom, which is the root of our moral code, just as the root of yours is the wish to escape it: the axiom that existence exists.
“Existence exists-and the act of grasping that statement implies two corollary axioms: that something exists which one perceives and that one exists possessing consciousness, consciousness being the faculty of perceiving that which exists.
“If nothing exists, there can be no consciousness: a consciousness with nothing to be conscious of is a contradiction in terms. A consciousness conscious of nothing but itself is a contradiction in terms: before it could identify itself as consciousness, it had to be conscious of something. If that which you claim to perceive does not exist, what you possess is not consciousness.
“Whatever the degree of your knowledge, these two-existence and consciousness-are axioms you cannot escape, these two are the irreducible primaries implied in any action you undertake, in any part of your knowledge and in its sum, from the first
“To exist is to be
“Whatever you choose to consider, be it an object, an attribute or an action, the law of identity remains the same. A leaf cannot be a stone at the same time, it cannot be all red and all green at the same time, it cannot freeze and burn at the same time. A is A. Or, if you wish it stated in simpler language: You cannot have your cake and eat it, too.
“Are you seeking to know what is wrong with the world? All the disasters that have wrecked your world, came from your leaders’ attempt to evade the fact that A is A. All the secret evil you dread to face within you and all the pain you have ever endured, came from your own attempt to evade the fact that A is A. The purpose of those who taught you to evade it, was to make you forget that Man is Man.
“Man cannot survive except by gaining knowledge, and reason is his only means to gain it. Reason is the faculty that perceives, identifies and integrates the material provided by his senses. The task of his senses is to give him the evidence of existence, but the task of identifying it belongs to his reason, his senses tell him only that something is, but what it is must be learned by his mind.
“All thinking is a process of identification and integration. Man perceives a blob of color; by integrating the evidence of his sight and his touch, he learns to identify it as a solid object; he learns to identify the object as a table; he learns that the table is made of wood; he learns that the wood consists of cells, that the cells consist of molecules, that the molecules consist of atoms. All through this process, the work of his mind consists of answers to a single question: What is it? His means to establish the truth of his answers is logic, and logic rests on the axiom that existence exists. Logic is the art of non-contradictory identification. A contradiction cannot exist. An atom is itself, and so is the universe; neither can contradict its own identity; nor can a part contradict the whole. No concept man forms is valid unless he integrates it without contradiction into the total sum of his knowledge. To arrive at a contradiction is to confess an error in one’s thinking; to maintain a contradiction is to abdicate one’s mind and to evict oneself from the realm of reality.
"EVEN this must have a preface- that is, a literary preface," laughed Ivan, "and I am a poor hand at making one. You see, my action takes place in the sixteenth century, and at that time, as you probably learnt at school, it was customary in poetry to bring down heavenly powers on earth. Not to speak of Dante, in France, clerks, as well as the monks in the monasteries, used to give regular performances in which the Madonna, the saints, the angels, Christ, and God Himself were brought on the stage. In those days it was done in all simplicity. In Victor Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris an edifying and gratuitous spectacle was provided for the people in the Hotel de Ville of Paris in the reign of Louis XI in honour of the birth of the dauphin. It was called Le bon jugement de la tres sainte et gracieuse Vierge Marie, and she appears herself on the stage and pronounces her bon jugement. Similar plays, chiefly from the Old Testament, were occasionally performed in Moscow too, up to the times of Peter the Great. But besides plays there were all sorts of legends and ballads scattered about the world, in which the saints and angels and all the powers of Heaven took part when required. In our monasteries the monks busied themselves in translating, copying, and even composing such poems- and even under the Tatars. There is, for instance, one such poem (of course, from the Greek), The Wanderings of Our Lady through Hell, with descriptions as bold as Dante's. Our Lady visits hell, and the Archangel Michael leads her through the torments. She sees the sinners and their punishment. There she sees among others one noteworthy set of sinners in a burning lake; some of them sink to the bottom of the lake so that they can't swim out, and 'these God forgets'- an expression of extraordinary depth and force. And so Our Lady, shocked and weeping, falls before the throne of God and begs for mercy for all in hell- for all she has seen there, indiscriminately. Her conversation with God is immensely interesting. She beseeches Him, she will not desist, and when God points to the hands and feet of her Son, nailed to the Cross, and asks, 'How can I forgive His tormentors?' she bids all the saints, all the martyrs, all the angels and archangels to fall down with her and pray for mercy on all without distinction. It ends by her winning from God a respite of suffering every year from Good Friday till Trinity Day, and the sinners at once raise a cry of thankfulness from hell, chanting, 'Thou art just, O Lord, in this judgment.' Well, my poem would have been of that kind if it had appeared at that time. He comes on the scene in my poem, but He says nothing, only appears and passes on. Fifteen centuries have passed since He promised to come in His glory, fifteen centuries since His prophet wrote, 'Behold, I come quickly'; 'Of that day and that hour knoweth no man, neither the Son, but the Father,' as He Himself predicted on earth. But humanity awaits him with the same faith and with the same love. Oh, with greater faith, for it is fifteen centuries since man has ceased to see signs from heaven.
No signs from heaven come to-day To add to what the heart doth say.
There was nothing left but faith in what the heart doth say. It is true there were many miracles in those days. There were saints who performed miraculous cures; some holy people, according to their biographies, were visited by the Queen of Heaven herself. But the devil did not slumber, and doubts were already arising among men of the truth of these miracles. And just then there appeared in the north of Germany a terrible new heresy. 'A huge star like to a torch' (that is, to a church) 'fell on the sources of the waters and they became bitter.' These heretics began blasphemously denying miracles. But those who remained faithful were all the more ardent in their faith. The tears of humanity rose up to Him as before, awaited His coming, loved Him, hoped for Him, yearned to suffer and die for Him as before. And so many ages mankind had prayed with faith and fervour, 'O Lord our God, hasten Thy coming'; so many ages called upon Him, that in His infinite mercy He deigned to come down to His servants. Before that day He had come down, He had visited some holy men, martyrs, and hermits, as is written in their lives. Among us, Tyutchev, with absolute faith in the truth of his words, bore witness that
Bearing the Cross, in slavish dress, Weary and worn, the Heavenly King Our mother, Russia, came to bless, And through our land went wandering.
And that certainly was so, I assure you.
"And behold, He deigned to appear for a moment to the people, to the tortured, suffering people, sunk in iniquity, but loving Him like children. My story is laid in Spain, in Seville, in the most terrible time of the Inquisition, when fires were lighted every day to the glory of God, and 'in the splendid auto da fe the wicked heretics were burnt.' Oh, of course, this was not the coming in which He will appear, according to His promise, at the end of time in all His heavenly glory, and which will be sudden 'as lightning flashing from east to west.' No, He visited His children only for a moment, and there where the flames were crackling round the heretics. In His infinite mercy He came once more among men in that human shape in which He walked among men for thirty-three years fifteen centuries ago. He came down to the 'hot pavements' of the southern town in which on the day before almost a hundred heretics had, ad majorem gloriam Dei, been burnt by the cardinal, the Grand Inquisitor, in a magnificent auto da fe, in the presence of the king, the court, the knights, the cardinals, the most charming ladies of the court, and the whole population of Seville.
"He came softly, unobserved, and yet, strange to say, everyone [[ZettaiRyouki recognised Him]]. That might be one of the best passages in the poem. I mean, why they recognised Him. The people are irresistibly drawn to Him, they surround Him, they flock about Him, follow Him. He moves silently in their midst with a gentle smile of infinite compassion. The sun of love burns in His heart, and power shine from His eyes, and their radiance, shed on the people, stirs their hearts with responsive love. He holds out His hands to them, blesses them, and a healing virtue comes from contact with Him, even with His garments. An old man in the crowd, blind from childhood, cries out, 'O Lord, heal me and I shall see Thee!' and, as it were, scales fall from his eyes and the blind man sees Him. The crowd weeps and kisses the earth under His feet. Children throw flowers before Him, sing, and cry hosannah. 'It is He- it is He!' repeat. 'It must be He, it can be no one but Him!' He stops at the steps of the Seville cathedral at the moment when the weeping mourners are bringing in a little open white coffin. In it lies a child of seven, the only daughter of a prominent citizen. The dead child lies hidden in flowers. 'He will raise your child,' the crowd shouts to the weeping mother. The priest, coming to meet the coffin, looks perplexed, and frowns, but the mother of the dead child throws herself at His feet with a wail. 'If it is Thou, raise my child!' she cries, holding out her hands to Him. The procession halts, the coffin is laid on the steps at His feet. He looks with compassion, and His lips once more softly pronounce, 'Maiden, arise!' and the maiden arises. The little girl sits up in the coffin and looks round, smiling with wide-open wondering eyes, holding a bunch of white roses they had put in her hand.
"There are cries, sobs, confusion among the people, and at that moment the cardinal himself, the Grand Inquisitor, passes by the cathedral. He is an old man, almost ninety, tall and erect, with a withered face and sunken eyes, in which there is still a gleam of light. He is not dressed in his gorgeous cardinal's robes, as he was the day before, when he was burning the enemies of the Roman Church- at this moment he is wearing his coarse, old, monk's cassock. At a distance behind him come his gloomy assistants and slaves and the 'holy guard.' He stops at the sight of the crowd and watches it from a distance. He sees everything; he sees them set the coffin down at His feet, sees the child rise up, and his face darkens. He knits his thick grey brows and his eyes gleam with a sinister fire. He holds out his finger and bids the guards take Him. And such is his power, so completely are the people cowed into submission and trembling obedience to him, that the crowd immediately makes way for the guards, and in the midst of deathlike silence they lay hands on Him and lead him away. The crowd instantly bows down to the earth, like one man, before the old Inquisitor. He blesses the people in silence and passes on' The guards lead their prisoner to the close, gloomy vaulted prison- in the ancient palace of the Holy, inquisition and shut him in it. The day passes and is followed by
"'Is it Thou? Thou?' but receiving no answer, he adds at once. 'Don't answer, be silent. What canst Thou say, indeed? I know too well what Thou wouldst say. And Thou hast no right to add anything to what Thou hadst said of old. Why, then, art Thou come to hinder us? For Thou hast come to hinder us, and Thou knowest that. But dost thou know what will be to-morrow? I know not who Thou art and care not to know whether it is Thou or only a semblance of Him, but to-morrow I shall condemn Thee and burn Thee at the stake as the worst of heretics. And the very people who have to-day kissed Thy feet, to-morrow at the faintest sign from me will rush to heap up the embers of Thy fire. Knowest Thou that? Yes, maybe Thou knowest it,' he added with thoughtful penetration, never for a moment taking his eyes off the Prisoner."
"I don't quite understand, Ivan. What does it mean?" Alyosha, who had been listening in silence[[Anime/FullmetalAlchemist , said with a smile]]. "Is it simply a wild fantasy, or a mistake on the part
"Take it as the last," said Ivan, laughing, "if you are so corrupted by modern realism and can't stand anything fantastic. If you like it to be a case of mistaken identity, let it be so. It is true," he went on, laughing, "the old man was ninety, and he might well be crazy over his set idea. He might have been struck by the appearance of the Prisoner. It might, in fact, be simply his ravings, the delusion of an old man of ninety, over-excited by the auto da fe of a hundred heretics the day before. But does it matter to us after all whether it was a mistake of identity or a wild fantasy? All that matters is that the old man should speak out, that he should speak openly of what he has thought in silence for ninety years."
"And the Prisoner too is silent? Does He look at him and not say a word?"
"That's inevitable in any case," Ivan laughed again. "The old man has told Him He hasn't the right to add anything to what He has said of old. One may say it is the most fundamental feature of Roman Catholicism, in my opinion at least. 'All has been given by Thee to the Pope,' they say, 'and all, therefore, is still in the Pope's hands, and there is no need for Thee to come now at all. Thou must not meddle for the time, at least.' That's how they speak and write too- the Jesuits, at any rate. I have read it myself in the works of their theologians. 'Hast Thou the right to reveal to us one of the mysteries of that world from which Thou hast come?' my old man asks Him, and answers the question for Him. 'No, Thou hast not; that Thou mayest not add to what has been said of old, and mayest not take from men the freedom which Thou didst exalt when Thou wast on earth. Whatsoever Thou revealest anew will encroach on men's freedom of faith; for it will be manifest as a miracle, and the freedom of their faith was dearer to Thee than anything in those days fifteen hundred years ago. Didst Thou not often say then, "I will make you free"? But now Thou hast seen these "free" men,' the old man adds suddenly, with a pensive smile. 'Yes, we've paid dearly for it,' he goes on, looking sternly at Him, 'but at last we have completed that work in Thy name. For fifteen centuries we have been wrestling with Thy freedom, but now it is ended and over for good. Dost Thou not believe that it's over for good? Thou lookest meekly at me and deignest not even to be wroth with me. But let me tell Thee that now, to-day, people are more persuaded than ever that they have perfect freedom, yet they have brought their freedom to us and laid it humbly at our feet. But that has been our doing. Was this what Thou didst? Was this Thy freedom?'"
"I don't understand again." Alyosha broke in. "Is he ironical, is he jesting?"
"Not a bit of it! He claims it as a merit for himself and his Church that at last they have vanquished freedom and have done so to make men happy. 'For now' (he is speaking of the Inquisition, of course) 'for the first time
"And what's the meaning of 'no lack of admonitions and warnings'?" asked Alyosha.
"Why, that's the chief part of what the old man must say.
"'The wise and dread spirit, the spirit of self-destruction and non-existence,' the old man goes on, great spirit talked with Thee in the wilderness, and we are told in the books that he "tempted" Thee. Is that so? And could anything truer be said than what he revealed to Thee in three questions and what Thou didst reject, and what in the books is called "the temptation"? And yet if there has ever been on earth a real stupendous miracle, it took place on that day, on the day of the three temptations. The statement of those three questions was itself the miracle. If it were possible to imagine simply for the sake of argument that those three questions of the dread spirit had perished utterly from the books, and that we had to restore them and to invent them anew, and to do so had gathered together all the wise men of the earth- rulers, chief priests, learned men, philosophers, poets- and had set them the task to invent three questions, such as would not only fit the occasion, but express in three words, three human phrases, the whole future history of the world and of humanity- dost Thou believe that all the wisdom of the earth united could have invented anything in depth and force equal to the three questions which were actually put to Thee then by the wise and mighty spirit in the wilderness? From those questions alone, from the miracle of their statement, we can see that we have here to do not with the
"Judge Thyself who was right- Thou or he who questioned Thee then? Remember the first question; its meaning, in other words, was this: "Thou wouldst go into the world, and art going with empty hands, with some promise of freedom which men in their simplicity and their natural unruliness cannot even understand, which they fear and dread- for nothing has ever been more insupportable for a man and a human society than freedom. But seest Thou these stones in this parched and barren wilderness? Turn them into bread, and mankind will run after Thee like a flock of sheep, grateful and obedient, though for ever trembling, lest Thou withdraw Thy hand and deny them Thy bread." But Thou wouldst not deprive man of freedom and didst reject the offer, thinking, what is that freedom worth if obedience is bought with bread? Thou didst reply that man lives not by bread alone. But dost Thou know that for the sake of that earthly bread the spirit of the
"'This is the significance of the first question in the wilderness, and this is what Thou hast rejected for the sake of that freedom which Thou hast exalted above everything. Yet in this question lies hid the great secret of this world. Choosing "bread," Thou wouldst have satisfied the universal and everlasting craving of humanity- to find someone to worship. So long as man remains free he strives for nothing so incessantly and so painfully as to find someone to worship. But man seeks to worship what is established beyond dispute, so that all men would agree at once to worship it. For these pitiful creatures are concerned not only to find what one or the other can worship, but to find community of worship is the chief misery of every man individually and of all humanity from the beginning of time. For the sake of common worship they've slain each other with the sword. They have set up gods and challenged one another, "Put away your gods and come and worship ours, or we will kill you and your gods!" And so it will be to the end of the world, even when gods disappear from the earth; they will fall down before idols just the same. Thou didst know, Thou couldst not but have known, this fundamental secret of human nature, but Thou didst reject the one infallible banner which was offered Thee to make all men bow down to Thee alone- the banner of earthly bread; and Thou hast rejected it for the sake of freedom and the bread of Heaven. Behold what Thou didst further. And all again in the name of freedom! I tell Thee that man is tormented by no greater anxiety than to find someone quickly to whom he can hand over that gift of freedom with which the ill-fated creature is born. But only one who can appease their conscience can take over their freedom. In bread there was offered Thee an invincible banner; give bread, and man will worship thee, for nothing is more certain than bread. But if someone else gains possession of his conscience- Oh! then he will cast away Thy bread and follow after him who has ensnared his conscience. In that Thou wast right. For the secret of man's being is not only to live but to have something to live for. Without a stable conception of the object of life, man would not consent to go on living, and would rather destroy himself than remain on earth, though he had bread in abundance. That is true. But what happened? Instead of taking men's freedom from them, Thou didst make it greater than ever! Didst Thou forget that man prefers peace, and even death, to freedom of choice in the knowledge of good and evil? Nothing is more seductive for man than his freedom of conscience, but nothing is a greater cause of suffering. And behold, instead of giving a firm foundation for setting the conscience of man at rest for ever, Thou didst choose all that is exceptional, vague and enigmatic; Thou didst choose what was utterly beyond the strength of men, acting as though Thou didst not love them at all- Thou who didst come to give Thy life for them! Instead of taking possession of men's freedom, Thou didst increase it, and burdened the spiritual kingdom of mankind with its sufferings for ever. Thou didst desire man's free love, that he should follow Thee freely, enticed and taken captive by Thee. In place of the rigid ancient law, man must hereafter with free heart decide for himself what is good and what is evil, having only Thy image before him as his guide. But didst Thou not know that he would at last reject even Thy image and Thy truth, if he is weighed down with the fearful burden of free choice? They will cry aloud at last that the truth is not in Thee, for they could not have been left
** She recently stated
"'So that, in truth, Thou didst Thyself lay the foundation for the destruction of Thy kingdom, and no one is more to blame for it. Yet what was offered Thee? There are three powers, three powers alone, able to conquer and to hold captive for ever the conscience of these impotent rebels for their happiness those forces are miracle, mystery and authority. Thou hast rejected all three and hast set the example for doing so. When the wise and dread spirit set Thee on
"'Receiving bread from us, they will see clearly that we take the bread made by their hands from them, to give it to them, without any miracle. They will see that we do not change the stones to bread, but in truth they will be more thankful for taking it from our hands than for the bread itself! For they will remember only too well that in old days, without our help, even the bread they made turned to stones in their hands, while since they have come back to us, the very stones have turned to bread in their hands. Too, too well will they know the value of complete submission! And until men know that, they will be unhappy. Who is most to blame for their not knowing it?-speak! Who scattered the flock and sent it astray on unknown paths? But the flock will come together again and will submit once more, and then it will be once for all. Then we shall give them the quiet humble happiness of weak creatures such as they are by nature. Oh, we shall persuade them at last not to be proud, for Thou didst lift them up and thereby taught them to be proud. We shall show them that they are weak, that they are only pitiful children, but that childlike happiness is the sweetest of all. They will become timid and will look to us and huddle close to us in fear, as chicks to the hen. They will marvel at us and will be awe-stricken before us, and will be proud at our being so powerful and clever that we have been able to subdue such a turbulent flock of thousands of millions. They will tremble impotently before our wrath, their minds will grow fearful, they will be quick to shed tears like women and children, but they will be just as ready at a sign from us to pass to laughter and rejoicing, to happy mirth and childish song. Yes, we shall set them to work, but in their leisure hours we shall make their life like a child's game, with children's songs and innocent dance. Oh, we shall allow them even sin, they are weak and helpless, and they will love us like children because we allow them to sin. We shall tell them that every sin will be expiated, if it is done with our permission, that we allow them to sin because we love them, and the punishment for these sins we take upon ourselves. And we shall take it upon ourselves, and they will adore us as their saviours who have taken on themselves their sins before God. And they will have no secrets from us. We shall allow or forbid them to live with their wives and mistresses, to have or not to have children according to whether they have been obedient or disobedient- and they will submit to us gladly and cheerfully. The most painful secrets of their conscience, all, all they will bring to us, and we shall have an answer for all. And they will be glad to believe our answer, for it will save them from the great anxiety and terrible agony they endure at present in making a free decision for themselves. And all will be happy, all the millions of creatures except the hundred thousand who rule over them. For only we, we who guard the mystery, shall be unhappy. There will be thousands of millions of happy babes, and a hundred thousand sufferers who have taken upon themselves the curse of the knowledge of good and evil. Peacefully they will die, peacefully they will expire in Thy name, and beyond the grave they will find nothing but death. But we shall keep the secret, and for their happiness we shall allure them with the reward of heaven and eternity. Though if there were anything in the other world, it certainly would not be for such as they. It is prophesied that Thou wilt come again in victory, Thou wilt come with Thy chosen, the proud and strong, but we will say that they have only saved themselves, but we have saved all. We are told that the harlot who sits upon the beast, and holds in her hands the mystery, shall be put to shame, that the weak will rise up again, and will rend her royal purple and will strip naked her loathsome body. But then I will stand up and point out to Thee the thousand millions of happy children who have known no sin. And we who have taken their sins upon us for their happiness will stand up before Thee and say: "Judge us if Thou canst and darest." Know that I fear Thee not. Know that I too have been in the wilderness, I too have lived on roots and locusts, I too prized the freedom with which Thou hast blessed men, and I too was striving to stand among Thy elect, among the strong and powerful, thirsting "to make up the number." But I awakened and would not serve madness. I turned back and joined the ranks of those who have corrected Thy work. I left the proud and went back to the humble, for the happiness of the humble. What I say to Thee will come to pass, and our dominion will be built up. I repeat, to-morrow Thou shalt see that obedient flock who at a sign from me will hasten to heap up the hot cinders about the pile on which I shall burn Thee for coming to hinder us. For if anyone has ever deserved our fires, it is Thou. To-morrow I shall burn Thee. Dixi.'"*
* I have spoken.
Ivan stopped. He was carried away as he talked, and spoke with excitement; when he had finished, he suddenly smiled.
Alyosha had listened in silence; towards the end he was greatly moved and seemed several times on the point of interrupting, but restrained himself. Now his words came with a rush.
"But... that's absurd!" he cried, flushing. "Your poem is in praise of Jesus, not in blame of Him- as you meant it to be. And who will believe you about freedom? Is that the way to understand it? That's not the idea of it in the Orthodox Church.... That's Rome, and not even the whole of Rome, it's false-those are the worst of the Catholics the Inquisitors, the Jesuits!... And there could not be such a fantastic creature as your Inquisitor. What are these sins of mankind they take on themselves? Who are these keepers of the mystery who have taken some curse upon themselves for the happiness of mankind? When have they been seen? We know the Jesuits, they are spoken ill of, but surely they are not what you describe? They are not that at all, not at all.... They are simply the Romish army for the earthly sovereignty of the world in the future, with the Pontiff of Rome for Emperor... that's their ideal, but there's no sort of mystery or lofty melancholy about it.... It's simple lust of power, of filthy earthly gain, of domination-something like a universal serfdom with them as masters-that's all they stand for. They don't even believe in God perhaps. Your suffering Inquisitor is a mere fantasy."
"Stay, stay," laughed Ivan. "how hot you are! A fantasy you say, let it be so! Of course it's a fantasy. But allow me to say: do you really think that the Roman Catholic movement of the last centuries is actually nothing but the lust of power, of filthy earthly gain? Is that Father Paissy's teaching?"
"No, no, on the contrary, Father Paissy did once say something rather the same as you... but of course it's not the same, not a bit the same," Alyosha hastily corrected himself.
"A precious admission, in spite of your 'not a bit the same.' I ask you why your Jesuits and Inquisitors have united simply for vile material gain? Why can there not be among them one martyr oppressed by great sorrow and loving humanity? You see, only suppose that there was one such man among all those who desire nothing but filthy material gain-if there's only one like my old Inquisitor, who had himself eaten roots in the desert and made frenzied efforts to subdue his flesh to make himself free and perfect. But yet all his life he loved humanity, and suddenly his eyes were opened, and he saw that it is no great moral blessedness to attain perfection and freedom, if at the same time one gains the conviction that millions of God's creatures have been created as a mockery, that they will never be capable of using their freedom, that these poor rebels can never turn into giants to complete the tower, that it was not for such geese that the great idealist dreamt his dream of harmony. Seeing all that he turned back and joined- the clever people. Surely that could have happened?"
"Joined whom, what clever people?" cried Alyosha, completely carried away. "They have no such great cleverness and no mysteries and secrets.... Perhaps nothing but Atheism, that's all their secret. Your Inquisitor does not believe in God, that's his secret!"
"What if it is so! At last you have guessed it. It's perfectly true, it's true that that's the whole secret, but isn't that suffering, at least for a man like that, who has wasted his whole life in the desert and yet could not shake off his incurable love of humanity? In his old age he reached the clear conviction that nothing but the advice of the great dread spirit could build up any tolerable sort of life for the feeble, unruly, 'incomplete, empirical creatures created in jest.' And so, convinced of this, he sees that he must follow the counsel of the wise spirit, the dread spirit of death and destruction, and therefore accept lying and deception, and lead men consciously to death and destruction, and yet deceive them all the way so that they may not notice where they are being led, that the poor blind creatures may at least on the way think themselves happy. And note, the deception is in the name of Him in Whose ideal the old man had so fervently believed all his life long. Is not that tragic? And if only one such stood at the head of the whole army 'filled with the lust of power only for the sake of filthy gain'- would not one such be enough to make a tragedy? More than that, one such standing at the head is enough to create the actual leading idea of the Roman Church with all its armies and Jesuits, its highest idea. I tell you frankly that I firmly believe that there has always been such a man among those who stood at the head of the movement. Who knows, there may have been some such even among the Roman Popes. Who knows, perhaps the spirit of that accursed old man who loves mankind so obstinately in his own way, is to be found even now in a whole multitude of such old men, existing not by chance but by agreement, as a secret league formed long ago for the guarding of the mystery, to guard it from the weak and the unhappy, so as to make them happy. No doubt it is so, and so it must be indeed. I fancy that even among the Masons there's something of the same mystery at the bottom, and that that's why the Catholics so detest the Masons as their rivals breaking up the unity of the idea, while it is so essential that there should be one flock and one shepherd.... But from the way I defend my idea I might be an author impatient of your criticism. Enough of it."
"You are perhaps a Mason yourself!" broke suddenly from Alyosha. "You don't believe in God," he added, speaking this time very sorrowfully. He fancied besides that his brother was looking at him ironically. "How does your poem end?" he asked, suddenly looking down. "Or was it the end?"
"I meant to end it like this. When the Inquisitor ceased speaking he waited some time for his Prisoner to answer him. His silence weighed down upon him. He saw that the Prisoner had listened intently all the time, looking gently in his face and evidently not wishing to reply. The old man longed for him to say something, however bitter and terrible. But He suddenly approached the old man in silence and softly kissed him on his bloodless aged lips. That was all his answer. The old man shuddered. His lips moved. He went to the door, opened it, and said to Him: 'Go, and come no more... come not at all, never, never!' And he let Him out into the dark alleys of the town. The Prisoner went away."
"And the old man?"
"The kiss glows in his heart, but the old man adheres to his idea."
"And you with him, you too?" cried Alyosha, mournfully.
Ivan laughed.
"Why, it's all nonsense, Alyosha. It's only a senseless poem of a senseless student, who could never write two lines of verse. Why do you take it so seriously? Surely you don't suppose I am going straight off to the Jesuits, to join the men who are correcting His work? Good Lord, it's no business of mine. I told you, all I want is to live on to thirty, and then... dash the cup to the ground!"
"But the little sticky leaves, and the precious tombs, and the blue sky, and the woman you love! How will you live, how will you love them?" Alyosha cried sorrowfully. "With such a hell in your heart and your head, how can you? No, that's just what you are going away for, to join them... if not, you will kill yourself, you can't endure it!"
"There is a strength to endure everything," Ivan said with a cold smile.
"The strength of the Karamazovs- the strength of the Karamazov baseness."
"To sink into debauchery, to stifle your soul with corruption, yes?"
"Possibly even that... only perhaps till I am thirty I shall escape it, and then-"
"How will you escape it? By what will you escape it? That's impossible with your ideas."
"In the Karamazov way, again."
"'Everything is lawful,' you mean? Everything is lawful, is that it?"
Ivan scowled, and all at once turned strangely pale.
"Ah, you've caught up yesterday's phrase, which so offended Muisov- and which Dmitri pounced upon so naively and paraphrased!" he smiled queerly. "Yes, if you like, 'everything is lawful' since the word has been said, I won't deny it. And Mitya's version isn't bad."
Alyosha looked at him in silence.
"I thought that going away from here I have you at least," Ivan said suddenly, with unexpected feeling; "but now I see that there is no place for me even in your heart, my dear hermit. The formula, 'all is lawful,' I won't renounce- will you renounce me for that, yes?"
Alyosha got up, went to him and softly kissed him on the lips.
"That's plagiarism," cried Ivan, highly delighted. "You stole that from my poem. Thank you though. Get up, Alyosha, it's time we were going, both of us."
They went out, but stopped when they reached the entrance of the restaurant.
"Listen, Alyosha," Ivan began in a resolute voice, "if I am really able to care for the sticky little leaves I shall only love them, remembering you. It's enough for me that you are somewhere here, and I shan't lose my desire for life yet. Is that enough for you? Take it as a declaration of love if you like. And now you go to the right and I to the left. And it's enough, do you hear, enough. I mean even if I don't go away to-morrow (I think I certainly shall go) and we meet again, don't say a word more on these subjects. I beg that particularly. And about Dmitri too, I ask you specially, never speak to me again," he added, with sudden irritation; "it's all exhausted, it has all been said over and over again, hasn't it? And I'll make you one promise in return for it. When at thirty, I want to 'dash the cup to the ground,' wherever I may be I'll come to have one more talk with you, even though it were from America, you may be sure of that. I'll come on purpose. It will be very interesting to have a look at you, to see what you'll be by that time. It's rather a solemn promise, you see. And we really may be parting for seven years or ten. Come, go now to your Pater Seraphicus, he is dying. If he dies without you, you will be angry with me for having kept you. Good-bye, kiss me once more; that's right, now go."
Ivan turned suddenly and went his way without looking back. It was just as Dmitri had left Alyosha the day before, though the parting had been very different. The strange resemblance flashed like an arrow through Alyosha's mind in the distress and dejection of that moment. He waited a little, looking after his brother. He suddenly noticed that Ivan swayed as he walked and that his right shoulder looked lower than his left. He had never noticed it before. But all at once he turned too, and almost ran to the monastery. It was nearly dark, and he felt almost frightened; something new was growing up in him for which he could not account. The wind had risen again as on the previous evening, and the ancient pines murmured gloomily about him when he entered the hermitage copse. He almost ran. "Pater Seraphicus- he got that name from somewhere- where from?" Alyosha wondered. "Ivan, poor Ivan, and when shall I see you again?... Here is the hermitage. Yes, yes, that he is, Pater Seraphicus, he will save me- from him and for ever!"
Several times afterwards he wondered how he could, on leaving Ivan, so completely forget his brother Dmitri, though he had that morning, only a few hours before, so firmly resolved to find him and not to give up doing so, even should he be unable to return to the monastery that night.
It was difficult to pinpoint the catalyst that had allowed for this chaotic fray. Somewhere along whiskey shot one and three, the darkness and the tide, the deck of the schooner became little more than a battlefield against a sudden uprising of nature.
Edward's hand shot out to grapple for a hold on the taffrail, fingers scrambling for traction on the salt water slickened wood. As he caught hold, his body jerked to a halt from its forward plummet off the stern of the ship, and he slammed hard against the stern knocking the breath from his body. Choking, and muttering an expletive, Edward quickly reached up with his automail hand to grab the deck and he began to bodily haul himself up.
He nearly lost what progress he'd made when the schooner gave a shuddering jerk as a particularly nasty wave caught the hull. With the spray of the sea blinding him and making his grip tricky, he somehow managed to get himself onto the deck where he was promptly bounced several meters as another wave smashed into the stern. Rolling to a halt, Edward finally scrambled to his feet even as the schooner gave a shuddering jerk under him.
It was the smell of smoke on the air that warned of the explosion that had gone off near the keel. Accompanied by another rough lurch that sent several sailors tumbling across the deck, and some over the edge of the schooner.
Edward was forced to grab a hold of one of the many coils of rope mounted to the cabin of the boat in order to keep from being tossed about again himself. The rough rope snagged on his gloves, nearly tearing them from his hands and causing him to fall backwards. Somehow he managed to keep his feet and find his balance again.
"That can't have been good." Ed muttered darkly to himself as the schooner gave a groaning lurch, shuddered, and stopped.
The engine was out.
"Mister Elric, sir! We have to abandon ship!"
Edward looked over at the sailor. "I think you'd be right!" He shouted back over the roar of the ocean assaulting the slowly sinking vessel.
"Come on! The lifeboat!"
"I'll be there!" Ed called over, already heading for the door that would lead below deck. "I have to get my suitcase!"
The sailor stared after him, aghast. "There's no time! Mister Elric!"
But Ed was already gone.
Edward bounced off the walls around the staircase as the schooner careened violently side to side. The smoke from the explosion choked the air, and he put one gloved hand over his mouth, coughing. His eyes watered against the fumes, and water was slapping up against his legs. But he kept going. He couldn't afford to lose that suitcase!
Half-blind by smoke, and coughing almost constantly, Ed found his way back to the small cabin he'd been given for the duration of the journey. The door was hanging on its hinges, creaking ominously as it swayed with the current of the knee deep water.
Stumbling through the door, Edward quickly located the suitcase, floating on top of the water. Without a moment to waste, he sloshed towards it, and seized it up with a relieved sigh. Turning, he hurried back towards the door even as the water reached his waist.
He stumbled his way back up the stairs, having a difficult time maintaining his balance as the schooner tipped so far to the left that he was afraid it would flip. But he refused to give up now, and he made it onto the deck again.
Quickly, he began to run for the opposite side of the schooner to reach the lifeboat.
All he remembered next was a deafening explosion, and then everything went black.
It was nothing short of nightmarish on the ocean's surface, and below wasn't much better. The currents were reaching at least halfway to the ocean floor. But they were more a gentle rocking, than a violent surging.
"You're such a dork, what are you doing? I've been looking for you for hours." Roy said in exasperation as he glided on one of the currents over to a large red and black spotted crab that was bouncing and twirling around through the water.
Breda stopped twirling long enough to sweep a bow with one claw to the merman that was eyeing him in exasperation. "It's fun!" He protested.
Roy sank down to sit himself on a rock as his fin tapped against the sandy bottom showing his annoyance. "I don't care if it's fun or not. You were supposed to be there for Havoc's birthday party. And where were you? Here! I had to deal with all eight hundred of his spawn on my own and keep Riza from eating them." He scowled as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "You're completely unreliable."
"I'm a crab, I get easily distracted." Breda reminded the annoyed merman as he swam over in his ungainly way. "You know I'd have been there if-oh! Look, Roy! A shiny!"
Roy watched, not at all amused, as Breda swam off after a sparkle of light in the water. "One of these days I'm going to let one of those fishing nets catch you." He muttered to himself, shaking his head.
"Look! Lots of shiny!" Breda squealed delightedly, his claws clicking as he tried to grab them.
"You're mental." Roy sighed, [[CompleteMonster and suddenly blinked.
Breda was right, there were lots of shiny things in the water.
Looking up, Roy slowly drifted up off his rock. "What the hell is that?" And without waiting for an answer from his distracted friend, Roy began to swim up closer to the surface where a bright ball of light was glowing and sparking.
He was only meters from it when he spotted one.
A human.
He'd never seen one before.]]
[[Film/DallasBuyersClub He'd never been curious enough. That, and interaction with humans usually ended less than peaceful. So his knowledge about them was relatively basic at best.
What he did know without a shred of doubt, was that humans couldn't breathe under water. And this human was clearly no exception to that rule. Not to mention unconscious.
Without even thinking about what he was doing, Roy gave a hard flick of his tail to shoot up and catch the drowning human around the arms. With no time to waste, and panicking that the human m]]ight be dead, Roy swam to the surface.
Bobbing on the angry water, Roy kept the human's head up as he looked around. The schooner was now well below the water, and he couldn't see anyone else about. But he had to do something.
Roy frowned, and fought against the waves to keep their heads above the surface. With a groan, he wished there were another way, but there wasn't. So he began to awkwardly swim for the nearest shore, towing along the human man who'd finally begun to breathe again after a coughing fit he didn't wake from.
It took Roy until just before dawn, but he finally managed to haul the limp man to a beach. It took a creative effort, but he flopped himself onto the sand so he could begin pulling the human far from the water. He kept pulling until there was no way the water could catch the human again, and there was nothing but sand close by.
As the sun finally broke fully against the ocean horizon, Roy finally was able to catch his breath. Something that was harder above the water, but he was managing. As he sat there on his tail, the fin slapping idly against the sand, he looked over at the human.
Even unconscious and partially dripping wet, Roy couldn't help but notice how the dawn sunlight caught the drying blonde hair until it glowed. Reaching over speechlessly he brushed a lock of it away from the human's face, his eyes drawn to every perfect feature. Glancing down the strong body his eyes eventually found there way back up, and to those lips that were blue from being cold.
Roy blinked, and drew away a bit as he frowned at himself. What was he doing admiring a human? This was ridiculous. His gaze soon returned to the human's face despite his questions, and he smiled. Did it matter? Human or not, he was the most beautiful creature Roy had ever seen.
Tilting his head, Roy smiled again and laughed a bit. Flopping down onto one side and propping himself up on one elbow he gazed wistfully at the man as his tail swished contentedly. He could gaze at this beautiful human for hours and never tire.
But he was not contented to merely gaze for much longer, and Roy reached out with one hand to trace the cold lips with a finger. "I wonder if humans kiss." He wondered aloud quietly.
It took him all of two seconds to decide that he should go for it anyway.
And it took all of two-and-a-half seconds for Edward to suddenly wake up with a cough that caused him to sit up sharply and nearly decapitate Roy in the process.
"You're awake!" Roy grinned delightedly, forgetting for now about kissing the human. He shifted so he could raise himself up a bit more. "I was worried you'd be unconscious for hours. I'd probably have shriveled up under the sun."
Edward startled at the voice, nearly falling over he whirled so fast to see who had spoken. And his eyes immediately seemed to gravitate to the black and green scaled tail and paper-thin fins. But it was not a very large, and very powerful fish he was looking at, and his eyes slowly slid up to where the scales disappeared at the pale waist of what clearly looked to be a man.
With a frantic movement Ed tried to flail back away.
"No!" Roy reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him from scooting away. "I won't hurt you, I promise."
Edward eyed him uncertainly, trying not to stare at the dark-scaled tail that took the place of what should have been legs. It took him a minute to gulp down his shock at what he was faced with, and look back to those black eyes. "You're not…"
"Like you?" Roy filled in with a smile. "No."
Putting a hand to his head, Edward took a deep breath. "I must be hallucinating. Or dead. Something… you can't be real."
Roy tilted his head with a smile and a light laugh. Even when being ignorant, this man was absolutely beautiful. Drawing his hand away from the man's arm he propped himself up better and flapped his tail idly. "I am real. And you're beautiful."
Edward froze as the blood rushed to his face, his golden eyes wide. And he stayed like that until his ability to speak returned to him. Turning to the merman he spoke rather quickly, while ignoring the fact he was blushing. "You can't just go around saying stuff like that!" He protested rather feebly.
"Why not?" Roy asked curiously. "You are. You don't think I go around saying that to every human I save from drowning, do you?"
Edward's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he stared at the merman. "Do you?"
Roy smiled and shook his head. "I've never saved a human before yourself. Never actually seen one until now." And he looked Edward up and down appraisingly before meeting those strange golden eyes again. "But you are beautiful. It doesn't take much to see that."
"If you've never seen a human until me, how do I know that other merpeople aren't just very ugly?"
"Does that mean you think I'm not ugly?" Roy asked teasingly, enjoying watching the man blush again. "I don't have to see another human to know when someone is beautiful. What's your name?"
Edward paused, before answering. "Edward, or Ed. Yours?"
"Roy." Roy answered, still smiling. "Well, Edward or Ed," he smirked at the man's eye roll, "if I'd known someone like you was up here on the surface, I'd have tried to find you a long time ago. But I'm glad I did, even if it took a while."
"Find me for what?" Ed asked uncertainly as he sat there in the sand conversing with Roy. He realized how odd it must look to anyone who might have spotted them. But he didn't try and leave again, convinced somehow that the merman was really there, and it would have been a waste to let such an opportunity pass him by.
Even if said merman seemed to think he was beautiful… he tried not to blush even more at the thought. Or dwell on the thought that Roy wasn't exactly hideous himself. It was hard not to admire the muscled upper body, the flawless pale skin, or even the powerful tail that started from low on the waist.
Roy, not about to admit to knowing he was being checked out by the human, even if he did know, merely smiled as he gazed right back. "For my mate." He said simply.
Whatever Ed had been expecting, it was not that. "For your what?!" He gaped, hoping that clarification would prove he'd misheard what Roy had said.
"My mate." Roy repeated, "unless you have objections? Am I not good looking enough?"
Edward gulped again, and realized that by now the blush seemed to be a permanent thing. "It's not that…" he corrected, even as he raked his eyes slowly down that body. Even with the tail, it was hard to deny that Roy was in possession of some very desirable-stopping that train of thought!
Roy smirked, and his tail began to swish back and forth through the sand as easily as if it wasn't there. "Then what is it? Oh!" He grinned at his sudden idea, "are humans like seahorses? Is there a proper courtship ritual?"
"No-o! No." Ed shook his head quickly before the merman started going into what exactly seahorses did. "There's no ritual."
Completely confused now and out of ideas, Roy heaved a heavy breath and frowned at the man. "Then what is it?"
Edward fished around quickly for ideas. "Well first off you're a merman, and I'm a human." There, that seemed like a pretty good one. "We live in different places, and you can't just go around asking someone to be your mate like that. You just think I'm beautiful, what sort of premise is that for me to want to be your mate?"
Roy wasn't thrown by any of the claims, but he sighed, feeling a bit deflated. "I don't need to know you're beautiful to know that it's you I want. I've looked, believe me. There's something you humans seem to have forgotten in all your years on land, and that's that not everything can be explained. The heart has reasons that reason does not know. And I just know that you're the one I want. Human or not, it makes no difference to me."
Ed, for all his logic and reasoning, could not find it in him to protest that. The downcast look on Roy's face, and knowing he'd done that, tugged at his heart painfully.
Roy looked back towards the ocean, and then at the man still watching him. He could hardly even explain it to himself, much less Edward. All he knew was that he wan- no, loved, this human. It sounded absurd even to his own ears, but he knew that only Edward would do. "I can't stay out of water too long. I should go." He said quietly, "but my heart's yours to keep."
It took Edward up until the time that Roy had flopped himself back into the water with a flash of fins, and had just ducked under to swim away, to suddenly bolt from where he sat and dash towards the shore. "Roy! Wait!"
From under the surface, Roy floated on his back, he'd been hoping that Ed might chase after him. Slowly he righted himself, and even while feeling apprehensive about what his human wanted, he broke the surface while pushing his wet hair from his face. "Yes?" He asked, hardly daring to be hopeful.
Edward knelt down on the sand, looking across those few yards that separated them. "Thank you, for saving my life." He said quietly.
Roy swam closer until he was resting in the water with his forearms against the bottom. "I couldn't just let you die." He replied with a small smile.
Edward smiled back, "I suppose not." He agreed, before suddenly looking around him in panic. "Oh shit!"
Roy frowned at him. "What's the matter?"
"My suitcase, it's gone!" Edward groaned and his hands fisted angrily. "I can't get that money back soon, Al and I'll starve before I could."
Roy's head tilted as he considered his distraught human. He wasn't sure what this money thing was about, but it did worry him that Ed was worried about starving. And who was this Al? He sure hoped he didn't have competition, he didn't want to share Edward. "Who's Al?"
"My brother."
Ah, no competition. This was a good thing for Al, because Roy was not good at coming in as second place. "This money stuff will help feed you and your brother?"
"Would have." Edward sighed bitterly. "Doesn't matter much now, I can't get it back."
Roy slipped back farther into the water. "A suitcase?"
"Yes. Hey, wait!"
Roy paused in moving back towards open ocean. "I'll be back in a few hours. You wait there." And he dove under the water, his tail splashing in after him as he swam through the water as quickly as he could.
Edward stared after him. "Yeah, sure. Why not." He muttered as he went to plop down on top of a mussel encrusted rock. Propping his chin on a hand, and his elbow on a knee, and his foot on a rock, he sat there staring out at the ocean.
He was doubtful that the merman would come back, but even so, here he was waiting. He was hopeless, positively hopeless. And all because Roy had said all those things that had made him blush. Things that had been sincere, else he would have stomped off and merman be damned. It was the first time anyone had ever said such things to him in that way. A way that had more meaning behind it then just trying to get laid.
And so like an idiot, he was sitting on a rock in the middle of Gate knew where, waiting for the return of someone that had before now, only existed in fairytales.
Meanwhile under the glittering surface of the ocean…
Roy swam for almost an hour to reach the site where the wreckage of the schooner had come to rest against the ocean floor. It looked ghostly in the pale light that managed to filter down this far. He had always thought sunken ships looked creepy, and this time was no exception.
Fighting back a shudder, Roy began to scan the sand looking for the suitcase his Ed had lost. Flitting his way through the water, he circled almost the entire vessel before he spotted the corner of it sticking out of the sand. With a smirk of success he swam over and began to dig it free. Edward might not be able to get it back, but Roy certainly could. And if getting it back meant Ed's happiness, Roy would gladly fetch the lost item. He wanted Edward to be happy.
Roy struggled with the sand for a few minutes before he managed to find a handle. Grabbing onto it he braced his tailfin against the sand and shoved his weight backwards. The suitcase pulled free with a beige cloud of sand that only grew as Roy sped away with sharp flicks of his fins.
Yet Roy had one more stop to make before he brought Edward back the missing suitcase.
X
Ed had made it to "six hundred and two bottles of beer on the wall," when the water broke in a spray as a familiar head of black hair surfaced. It took a moment to get over his surprise that Roy had actually come back, as well as a moment to shove away that absurd warmth that had spread through him at the reappearance of the merman. Ungracefully he scrambled down from his perch and hurried at a slow jog towards the water's edge.
Roy pushed the suitcase in front of him as he worked on swimming closer. It was more difficult the closer he was to land. As usual, his tail didn't have much room to work. But he got it in reach of Ed's thrilled hands and took to sitting on the sandy bottom with his tail out to one side, the fin slapping against the water merrily. "Is that the right one?"
Edward had picked it up and opened it already, finding the money still dry. With a relieved sigh, sounding as if the world had been taken off his chest, he closed it again and turned to the merman. "Yes, thank you. But how did you ever find it?"
"I know that part of the ocean very well. It's part of the territory my clan watches over." Roy explained with a smile. "So is this island… but I've never really had a reason to come this close to land before."
The suitcase clutched to his chest, as if he was afraid it would vanish, Edward knelt down in the sand again. "Thank you, really." He shook his head in relief. "You have no idea how badly I needed it back."
Roy continued to smile, glad to see Edward happier. "No," he agreed, "but you wanted it, and I could get it for you. I just want my mate to be happy."
Edward blushed again, far beyond the point now where he was going to feel annoyed with himself for it. Besides, the odd flutter in his chest made being annoyed seem like a fantasy. "But I'm not."
"Then," Roy compromised, his smile turning wistful, "I want the one I love to be happy." And he raised one of his hands out of the water, offering out what was clutched in it to his human. "These are for you."
Edward reached out hesitantly to take the dripping wet, but still beautiful white flowers from Roy. They had stalks like they grew on land, but they seemed… different. They had an odd texture, almost silky to the point of being slippery. "What are they?" He asked quietly as he looked them over.
"Flowers don't just grow on land." Roy explained as he watched Edward gaze at them. "These flowers are beautiful and rare. They're special to me, just like you. And these are for you. Whether you want me or not, like them, I am yours."
Edward looked at them for a long while before he set the suitcase down on the sand, and lay the flowers on top of it. Turning back to Roy, he bit his lip for a moment before speaking at last. "I'm poor, even now I'm losing money being lost out here. I can't afford to think about things like you're suggesting."
Roy slipped through the water to climb his way up onto a rock sitting just off shore. All it took was a heave with his arms to sit him up on the slick surface. He balanced on his hands as his tail swished through the water. All the while he was watching his human. "I don't understand." He admitted at last.
"What's not to understand?" Ed asked, letting some of his anxiety show in his tone.
"This money thing."
Ed sighed and scratched his head to try and find some way to expla- no this was ridiculous! It didn't matter. He shouldn't matter. And yet here Ed still stood, still in the company of one merman under the delusion that they should be mates. He needed to have a long talk with himself. "It's nothing I'm sure you have ever needed to be concerned about. The ocean seems like a pretty nonrestrictive place. No one telling you what to do or anything like that."
Roy tilted his head, "but it is."
Edward gave him a slight frown.
Roy continued without further prompting. "We do have rules, nature itself is a rule. The ocean is restrictive. Either by its very life, or by the rules that are placed upon those who reside in it so that we can keep having a home."
"Who sets these rules then?" Edward asked as he walked a bit closer to the water's edge.
"In this part of the ocean, I do." Roy admitted. "My parents both recently died, my coronation isn't for another week."
Edward stared at the merman wordlessly, before giving a short sort of laugh sounding breath. "Wait, you're telling me you're a prince?" He asked in a strained voice. Could this get any more damn strange?
"Crown prince, yes." Roy sighed, and looked back towards the ocean. "I'm not sure I'm ready to be a king though. It's a bit lonely, even being what I am now is lonely."
Edward couldn't find any words to answer such a thing. All he could do was watch Roy stare off into the distance. He was aware of the fact that Roy's words could have been intended to gain sympathy, and Edward agreeing to what Roy continued to desire. Yet Ed couldn't bring himself to believe such a thing. Roy's words were sincere, and Ed genuinely felt that the merman was being completely honest.
Hang on… "I'm on a what?!"
Roy startled as he looked quickly back over at the wide-eyed human. "A beach. Sand and stuff." He explained with a casual wave of one hand.
"No, no!" Edward's head shook so fast his hair couldn't pick a direction to fly in. "Earlier, you said this island is part of your territory. Island?! I'm on an island?!"
Roy blinked, and nodded. "Yes. Yes, you are. It was the closest thing. But don't worry, there should be fresh water. It's a large island and I've seen rabbits in the short time I've been around here today. So you have water and food. I can bring you fish though if you would prefer them. Or lobster. Whatever you like."
Edward felt like his head was spinning from the panic that had set in. "But I can't be on an island! I want to be on the mainland. You know, so I can get home."
Roy held back a sigh. He wanted Ed to stay with him, but all his human seemed to want to do was get away from him. Was he that terrible a choice for Ed to be with? He'd just have to try and win Ed's affections… somehow. "I'm not sure where it is exactly. I'd have to ask one of the whales in a few days when they come to this region for mating. Until then, please don't be upset. I'll take care of you."
"And take me home?" Edward persisted.
"I only want you to be happy." Roy replied only loud enough to be heard. "I'll take you home if that is what you want."
Ed flinched guiltily. "I'm sorry I can't give you what you want." He said, not seeming to be able to look at the merman. "You're… but I… we just can't."
"Forgive me for saying so," Roy said as he stared down at his scales, "but that's the worst logic I've ever heard." He looked back up at his Edward. "I want to mate with you, I want you to be mine forever. I always will. You can't tell me seriously that what I want is the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard."
Edward bit his lower lip as he shook his head. "No, I suppose not."
Roy smiled at him softly. "I love you, Edward." And he took a deep breath. "I must go take care of some things back home. But I'll be back to check on you tonight. Believe me, I wish I didn't have to leave you, but even a prince can't do whatever he wants. Do you need anything before I leave?"
Edward shook his head, biting back the urge to ask Roy if he was sure he had to leave. Instead asking, "you promise you'll be back?" He asked hesitantly.
Roy nodded, and slipped back into the water. "I won't abandon you."
And then he was gone.
Edward stared after the vanishing ripples that the merman had created, and sighed. Well, this was certainly shaping up to be one hell of a day.
Looking around, Ed grabbed his suitcase and the flowers Roy had given to him. He then began to make his way off the sand and towards a palm not far off the beach. "Well, here goes nothing." Ed muttered, and began to try to set up some semblance of a camp.
Once he'd dug himself a bunker against the spray of the sea, and securely half-stuck his suitcase into the sand, Edward went to find this freshwater. All the while wondering absently if the flowers Roy had given him would die if they came into contact with freshwater. He didn't want them to die after all, not too soon anyway.
He found a dark blue pool that was most definitely freshwater. So he drank, and washed the salt off both his clothes and himself. He dried fast enough out in this direct intense sunlight anyway. Shielding his eyes against it, Ed set off in search of one of those rabbits Roy claimed to have seen.
X
Roy finally reached his home, though he was considerably grumpy. He didn't like leaving his human mate. Rather, the human he desired for his mate. But he had been telling the truth, he did have things to take care of. Else he'd have more trouble on his hands than just his chosen mate who didn't want him.
So he swam back to the human city that had been swallowed by the ocean hundreds of years ago, and the stone castle fortress that had been his home since he was a child. He greeted those he passed with nods, or the more liked ones were given a short wave. But he made a beeline to the castle, slipping in through one of the glassless windows and into the throne room.
"All right, let's begin then shall we?" Roy commanded succinctly as he sank onto the throne his father had once sat in.
"Where have you been?" Maes hissed from his right side as the meeting discussing the finer points of the upcoming coronation party got underway.
Roy glanced briefly at the merman who'd been his best friend since before he could remember. "I met someone." He muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
Maes's eyes widened to the size of seashells. "You did?" He asked, hardly daring to believe it.
"I'll tell you after this is all done." Roy told him to tide his friend over.
And once the coronation details had become the latest reports on Envy's dastardly deeds, to the latest jellyfish migration, the meeting finally came to a close. All the merman and mermaids who had been in attendance were politely shooed away by their crown prince. All but one.
"So tell me about them!" Maes practically squealed as he sat up on the arm of Roy's throne.
Roy smiled, "his name is Edward."
Maes nodded along gleefully.
"He's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."
Maes continued to nod eagerly.
"He's a human."
Maes fell off the throne arm while a "what?!" echoed around the empty hall.
Roy rolled his eyes, and yanked his friend back upright even as he took to floating up off the throne. "He's a human, Maes. And I love him." He said firmly, gripping Maes's arm tightly.
"Roy…" Maes sighed, and then shook his head with a small smile. "Well, it's hard to say you are being an idiot. We don't exactly wait around for the right one to come along for no reason. Our hearts know who our mate is. Even if it doesn't make sense."
"I know." Roy released his friend's arm. "I don't care if he has legs. I can change that, you know I can. If he ever wanted me to."
Maes frowned, "what do you mean? He doesn't feel the same for you?"
Roy sighed and dragged a hand back through his hair. "Humans seem to have lost touch with what their hearts tell them. They try to reason everything out far too much."
Maes smiled bracingly. "Well, if anyone can win your mate's heart, it's you. So win him over. Let him rediscover the part of him he's lost living on land. Show him what it's really supposed to be like."
"I have only a few days." Roy replied, "so I may need you to cover for me. Keep my retainers from thinking they should start following me on my little trips."
"I'll do what I can." Maes promised, "but just know it might be difficult. With Envy getting more bold, your private time outside this castle could become limited. None of us want to see the only heir to the throne die before he has given us an heir. So good luck with your mate."
Roy smiled brightly, and suddenly tackled his friend in a somersaulting hug. "You're the best, Maes! I'll try and win Ed's heart, with any luck I'll have a husband by tomorrow."
Maes turned a slight shade of green as Roy finally stopped spinning them. "I hate flipping over, you know that!"
"I do?" Roy teased, and swam out of range of Maes's swat.
"Go on, your Highness." Maes chuckled weakly as he fought for control of his stomach. "Go win over your human."
Roy grimaced. "Have a stop to make first. I'll see you tomorrow." And he swam out of the throne room with a wave to his best friend.
Neither noticed the single krill that slipped away through a crack in the stone wall.
X
Roy swam down towards the patch of seaweed that blanketed the north end of the city where his clan stayed. Yet he was not here to visit other merpeople. "Hey, where's Riza?"
A gray and black clam popped open with enthusiasm, "she went to follow the orcas south. She said something about seals."
Roy groaned, he didn't mind his shark friend eating. But he did wish that she'd leave some animals alone. Like the cute ones. "And what are you doing, Falman?"
The clam scuttled back and forth in the seaweed. "Trying to play hide and seek, but you're blowing my cover."
Roy smirked, "I'll go see if I can't turn-" he paused.
"Fuery." Falman the clam filled in.
"Fuery around." Roy finished, while rolling his eyes. That shouldn't be too difficult. Fuery had probably already forgotten that he was playing a game. And he swam off in search of the goldfish as Falman snapped back closed again.
Roy found the goldfish bouncing on a blade of seaweed while squealing happily and giggling. "Hey, Fuery." He snapped his fingers in the goldfish's direction.
Fuery squeaked and tumbled backwards into more seaweed.
"Fuery, it's me. Roy." The merman sighed tiredly.
"Roy who?"
"As in Roy Mustang who will kick your gills into Riza's three thousand razor sharp teeth if you don't get out here." Roy filled in casually.
Fuery swam out slowly, looking very sheepish. "Sorry."
Roy waved a hand around as if to brush off the apology. "Call off the game for a minute."
"Game, what game?" Fuery asked with a very confused expression. Something that didn't look much unlike the way a goldfish normally looked.
"Hide and seek." Roy prompted patiently. Goldfish had a short term memory span of a rock, and he was used to it by now.
"I like that game!"
"Yes, but I want you to call it off."
Fuery blew bubbles in disappointment. "Okay." And he twirled higher into the water. "Game time-out!"
Roy waited until everyone else had appeared; Havoc the seahorse, Breda the shiny loving crab, Falman the… well, clam, and Armstrong the octopus. "I have a favor to ask of all of you…"
By the time Roy had finished explaining, he doubted that anyone but Havoc would be of any real help with this task, but at least it'd been said. Now he could go back to his mate, and he could hardly contain his excitement.
He swam as fast as he could back to that island.
When he surfaced he found the beach empty of the human, but he suspected that he was close by. It was dark now, the moon had been shining for almost an hour and a cool night breeze teased at the water. Feeling eager and with a smile, Roy splashed closer to the shore.
X
Edward was roused from his slight doze by the soft calling of his name. With a sleepy smile, he began to sit up. He knew that voice, and he welcomed some company again. It was rather lonely being here on this island alone. And though he'd not easily admit it, it was just a bit scary. However by now he was beginning to trust that when Roy said he'd come back, he'd come back. And it was nice to be able to finally trust someone like that who wasn't his brother.
No, Roy was definitely not his brother.
Ignoring the faint blush, Ed hurried back down to the beach, spotting Roy drifting just off shore. "Hi." He said after a moment, feeling almost shy.
Roy smiled happily, "did you eat?"
"Yes."
"Then come here." Roy's smile did not fade.
Edward paused, blinking, before laughing almost nervously. "Wait, out there?"
Roy nodded. "Yes, don't worry. It's not like I'll let you drown. Come here."
"Why?" Ed asked with a fluttering feeling somewhere in the region of his stomach.
"Do you have anything better to do?" Roy asked pointedly, and drifted farther back. "Don't tell me you're scared of the water?"
Edward shook his head. "No." And at Roy's smirk, he felt some of his indignant side come out. "Okay then." He said and pulled off his boots to wade in until he was up to his knees in water. "Now what do you want?"
"Only you, my beautiful Ed." Roy replied honestly, before he ducked under the water.
Edward looked around in confusion. "Ro-OY!" And he crashed into the water with a gigantic splash, and came up laughing. "Roy!" He managed to berate the merman between laughs.
Roy surfaced, laughing as well. "You look good wet." He grinned, and grabbed Ed by both hands, slowly bringing him out deeper until he knew the human could barely touch the bottom.
Ed blushed, and he found it hard to get rid of that blush when he couldn't seem to look away from those black eyes. Those eyes that seemed to burn him with a strange fire. "I'm not as beautiful as you think I am." He replied quietly. "My brother is a lot better looking than I am."
"I'm not looking at your brother, Ed." Roy answered softly, and released one of Ed's hands to slip his fingers through those golden locks hanging wetly around the man's face and neck. "I'm looking at you, and you are beautiful."
"Why couldn't you have been a human?" Ed whispered without even really thinking about what he was saying. Or the fact that he was leaning into Roy's hand that was stroking through his hair slowly.
"So one day you could ask me that." Roy replied and smiled reassuringly. "I'm not as crazy as you seem to think. We can be together, if you trust me. But for now, just think about it. Take as long as you need, I'm yours whenever you choose to have me."
Ed looked away and laughed softly, but it was a happy sort of laugh. "Does the ocean have some sort of spell that makes me-"
"Open up to what you subconsciously want?" Roy finished.
Ed nodded slowly.
"The water is relaxing." Roy explained with a gentle smile. "Maybe you aren't so opposed to me as you'd like to think."
"I'd like to think I'd have the sense to get out before I catch a cold." Edward muttered.
Roy laughed, "you won't. It's a warm night, and the water is hardly cold."
"So says the one who lives at the bottom of the ocean."
"You may have a point there."
Edward smirked at him, "I just might. But Roy," his smirk faded, "seriously, I have to think about what I need to do. And I need to take care of Al. I'm not a prince like you, I'm like… the sediment to your castle. I can't be selfish and begin to think it could even be remotely okay to abandon him."
Roy blinked, "you know I have a castle?"
Ed rolled his eyes, "it was rather implied with the whole 'prince' thing."
"Ah." Roy could see the logic in that one.
"Can you understand that?" Edward asked, his golden eyes searching Roy's face.
Roy thought about it for a second or two. "I understand." He accepted quietly. And he did. He could understand not wanting to abandon family. "When your brother can take care of himself, though," Roy continued, "please remember you hold my heart. Maybe one day you could give me yours in return."
Edward gazed at him in a sort of wordless awe for a moment. "You really do love me, don't you."
"It's an inadequate word for what I feel for you, but yes, I love you." Roy replied with sincere honesty and a slight smile. "I'll forever love you." And taking advantage of Edward's speechless moment, he did what he'd been wanting to do since he'd hauled the unconscious human onto the beach. Pulling Ed closer he caught the surprised lips against his own in a desperate kiss. Desperate to at least once know the taste and feel of his mate.
Any protesting Ed might have done flickered and faded as he found himself kissing Roy back. He clung to the merman tightly, desperately. The erratic fire in his veins fueling his want for more. And he nipped at Roy's bottom lip demandingly, moaning into the kiss as their tongues slid against one another.
It came as no surprise to either of them that it was Ed who needed to pull away for air first. And he pulled away panting unevenly, his golden eyes over bright as he gazed into Roy's black ones. "Roy, I-"
Roy quickly cut him off with another kiss, and felt the blonde melt into him even as he was kissed back hungrily. He pulled away before either of them was ready, only to move his mouth to Ed's ear. "What is it my mate?" He whispered seductively before beginning to nibble along Ed's ear.
Edward shivered with a low moan, both from Roy's words and actions. One of his hands was clutching at the merman's bare shoulder, the other buried in Roy's hair, encouraging Roy to continue what he was doing. "I forgot." He admitted, having lost all coherent thought under Roy's touch. Those hands running over his body were very distracting.
"Good." Roy replied against Ed's neck before straightening so he could look his mate in the eyes. "Now stop thinking. It's a lot less fun when you're thinking about serious stuff while we're making out."
"I shouldn't be doing this." Edward groaned even as he moved forward to catch Roy's lips in an open mouthed kiss.
Neither could help thinking for the briefest of seconds that they were glad Ed was.
X
The krill that had snuck from Roy's castle had finally reached its destination. After all, krill were not fast swimmers. They were like… half-functional sperm. Completely reliant upon a current in the proper direction and the salvation of not being annihilated by an outside force of some kind.
"Report! You unviable creature doomed to be swallowed by an abyss of acidic darkness." Demanded the krill's owner, a half-human, half-seaweed looking being. Only the torso was human, the rest was long strands of seaweed that functioned as appendages and hair.
Envy the Evil Seaweed.
And evil he was. He was so close, so close to getting his hands on that bastard Roy's throne. The parents had been easy to knock off. But their son was proving a bit more irritating. And once that bastard mer-spawn assumed the throne, it would be even more irritating to get rid of him. That's all the merman needed, a bloody crown.
"Sir," the unviable creature doomed to be swallowed by an abyss of acidic darkness, otherwise known as a krill, began, "his highness has fallen in love."
Great, the bastard just got even more irritating. Envy really could not stand all that mushy romance stuff. It was ridiculous. Give him a hatchet, a prince, and the prince's whore mate, and that was pure poetry right there. With some blood as the finishing touch to the canvas of what was truly romantic. Death. And lots of it. Yes, yes this little heart-stealer must be invited to the fun. "And who's the lucky mermaid who gets to become capture number six?"
"You've only captured-?"
"I asked you who!" Envy shrieked as blood flushed to his face.
"It's not a mermaid."
"Merman then." Envy twirled a finger in the water idly. "Never quite thought that having a sausage shoved up my non-existent ass would feel nice, but who am I to judge what my victims want to do in their last minutes of life?"
"It's a human, sir."
"A WHAT?!" Envy shrieked, raising sand from the floor in the process. "He's gone and fallen for a human?! Bloody two-legger is giving me competition! Humans only want to kill merpeople, deep, deep down. And I will not share the glory of knocking off the whole family line!"
"The human must be close." The krill continued as if not hearing Envy's psychotic rambling. "Roy seems to be swimming back and forth."
"Get my map! You unviable creature doomed to be swallowed by an abyss of acidic darkness, hurry!" Envy declared with an upward punch of one fist. "Shit!" Envy whimpered as he patted his head where his sudden movement had ripped several seaweeds from his head.
The krill complied with the slowness of a sea slug, somehow managing to balance the map that was the size of a whale over to where Envy waited impatiently.
"Finally!" Envy snarled, snatching it away and opening it with a decisive sharp movement.
The krill squealed in terror as it was knocked for a spin by the opening map, right into the waiting mouth of Gluttony the whale.
Gluttony burped.
"Shut up, you disgusting fat whale of a bad guy!" Envy growled, "go let Bradley chase you. Burn off some calories. Just remember to do reps of ten!"
A swordfish streaked with a mad cackle after a slowly fleeing Gluttony.
Envy pondered over the map. "Aha!" He had found where the human must be. With a grin he tossed the map over his head and went to make ready for his kidnap.
X
It was near dawn when Envy broke the surface of the water near the island. "Hello-o?" He called out in his sweetest voice.
Edward frowned as he slowly sat up, stretching stiffly. That voice… it wasn't Roy's. And he smiled when he thought about the merman. Last night had… really given him a lot to think about. The way Roy touched him, and the way it felt, it was the most perfect thing Ed had ever known. But that other voice...
He rose and began to make his way back to the beach, frowning as he saw what was out there in the water. Definitely not Roy. It looked like someone covered in seaweed. Old seaweed. "Who are you?" He asked, staying back away from the edge of the shore. He found he didn't trust anyone but Roy out here. Especially when the next individual he saw looked like that.
"My name is Envy..tra." There, that sounded like a much more normal name.
Edward blinked blankly. "What do you want?"
"I want you to come with me. We're going to go meet Roy." Envy persuaded.
Ed frowned, and backed away. "What are you, an idiot? I'm not going into the water with a homeless looking merman."
"I'm a seaweed."
"Even more reason."
"Just come with me, and no one will get hurt."
Edward glared. "Why don't you come close and we'll see who gets hurt? I'd like to kick your ass across this whole ocean. Creep."
Envy glared, "you humans are far too stubborn for your own good. I promise I won't drown you."
"You're really starting to backpedal into deeper sh-shit!" Edward clamped his hands over his ears as the gunshot sounded. Looking around he saw a boat much like the one he'd been on pulling closer, one of the men on deck toting a rifle. Looking back to the water he saw green blood as Envy sank below the surface.
"I got that-!"
"Please excuse his language."
"Woo! I am King of the Freak Killers!"
Edward eyed the men uncertainly. They had anchored the boat and come ashore to fetch him. They'd heard of the wreck possibly happening, and come to search out survivors in the nearby areas. And they'd just so happened to go gunpowder-happy on Envy the Freak.
Which he wasn't so sure was a bad thing.
As long as it wasn't Roy. But Roy did look more human from the torso up. But still…
"Come on, we should get you home Mister Elric."
Edward bit his lip, an internal war going on inside. Flashes of Roy, flashes of his face, his touch, his voice, it all was clashing at him. Begging him to stay and not leave the one he knew now he loved. How could he not? When it hurt this bad to leave him behind.
And Edward had no choice but to leave him behind. Because it was what he needed to do.
"Right." And so Edward fetched his suitcase back, trying not to drag his feet even if it felt surreal that he was actually leaving so soon. So soon after realizing that he'd found someone he could be with. Be with the way Roy was offering for him to be. It didn't feel real to leave now, and childishly he wished it weren't real. But he knew better.
He hid the flowers away in the suitcase, clutching the suitcase to him as he climbed aboard the boat. As the vessel made sail again, heading for home, Edward had never before felt the strong urge to jump off. He walked to the railing to watch the island slip away. "I'm sorry I never could tell you… I love you." He whispered as the reality of where he was going and what he was leaving hit him full force.
Back at the island…
Roy stared at Havoc numbly after the seahorse had finished reporting. His eyes drifted to the dead carcass of Envy, who would be causing no more trouble or taking up time in the meetings. Humans had shot Envy and taken Edward away.
No, taken his mate back home.
Away from him.
"What will you do?" Havoc asked the merman quietly.
Roy looked towards the direction Havoc had said the boat went. "The only thing I can do, I'm going after him."
"But-!"
"I love him, Havoc." Roy cut him off absently. "And I don't want to be without him. Tell Maes I've gone after him, he'll think of a good excuse to cover my absence."
"They shot Envy, what do you think they'd do to you?" Havoc called after the merman as Roy turned to leave. "You're supposed to be our king in less than a week now. You're our only heir."
"With Envy dead, there are no more risks." Roy replied gently, pausing to look back at the seahorse. "And there won't be any more heirs unless I get my mate back one day. But I have to know, I have to tell him how to find me when he's ready."
Havoc sighed, "then good luck, my prince."
Roy gave the seahorse one last smile before speeding off through the water after the boat.
X
It was two days before the boat docked, and a melancholic Edward with it. Everyone on board had assumed it was just because he'd been shipwrecked. And Ed didn't ever want to tell these people the truth. No, he couldn't. Looking back out towards the ocean he felt a deep sadness steal over him. The first time he'd ever truly loved anyone, and the ocean separated them so effectively.
With a twinge of aching pain in his heart, he turned away and began to walk across the dock. It would take him most of the day to reach the small home he shared with his brother. A long time to spend alone with only memories of what he'd held for a short time.
The tears hit the dust as he walked the long road home.
By dusk the tears had finally abated, though Ed suspected he probably looked like he'd been crying the whole walk. Which he practically had. He didn't know why it hurt so bad, but it did. And he was helpless to stop it. He supposed that this was what gave people a sort of dignity, having lost someone they loved, but he'd rather have Roy than any sort of dignity.
When he walked through that front door of the small shack he shared with Al along the river they fished and farmed for money, the relief of being home didn't hit him. Instead his spirits only seemed to fall more, but he affixed a smile to his face and set down the suitcase. "Al?"
"Brother! You're back!"
Edward was nearly knocked off his feet as his younger, but still somehow nearly taller, brother, tackled into him with a massive hug. "Al, careful!" He protested with a small laugh, a real one. Well, it was good to see Alphonse again, that much would never change.
Al laughed and pulled away. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was really worried! I-" Al paused, his face turning concerned. "You've been crying, what's wrong?"
Ed startled, and gave himself a rough shake to try and snap him out of his depressed state. "Nothing, just really relieved to be home." All of which were half-lies.
Al frowned, not really believing, but not about to doubt just yet. "Well come on, let's get you fed!" And he dragged his brother off to the small table they shared.
Edward ate mechanically, not really tasting the food he was chewing and swallowing. His entire being felt heavy, lethargic, but he didn't feel like sleeping. With a sigh, he looked to the suitcase, and looked away as he felt the tears prickle at his eyes.
Al had followed his brother's gazes, counted the sighs, taken note of everything. And finally he smiled softly. "Who did you meet?"
Ed jumped at the sudden voice, and blinked at his brother with big doe-eyes. "What?"
"Who is it that you've been sighing over since you got home?" Al pressed with a reassuring look. "Do you love them?"
Edward blushed faintly and looked down at his plate. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."
"Try me." Al said, sitting back with a smile still in place.
Ed paused, before he finally stood up and went to pick up the suitcase. He brought it back over to the table and laid it down in front of Alphonse. "Open it. Do you know what those are?" And he went to sit back down.
Alphonse unlocked it carefully and pried it open. His eyes widened, a faint gasp coming out of his mouth before he delicately picked one of the flowers up. "Brother, where the hell did you get all these?"
"In a moment, do you know what they are?" Edward repeated.
Al nodded, "they're worth a lot more to herbalists than this cash is worth to the bank." He admitted, and laid it back inside the case reverently. "Where did you get them?" He asked in awe, looking back across the table to his brother.
"From Roy." Edward replied simply, trying to hide the pain in his voice at saying that name aloud again. "We… I… he asked me to basically marry him."
Alphonse considered his brother for a moment, before snapping the suitcase shut and laying it aside. "Listen," he said, turning back to his brother, "this Roy, do you love him?"
Edward nodded mutely, his heart seeming to be in his throat right now.
"Does he love you?" Al asked further.
Edward nodded again.
Al nodded and sat back in his chair. "And what was your answer when he basically asked to marry you?"
"What the hell do you think?" Ed asked bitterly and stood up. "Sorry. I just need some fresh air."
Alphonse sighed, and smiled knowingly as his brother left. Only his brother would sacrifice something like love to do what Ed saw as his duty. And if Al were any judge, it seemed like this was not just any common love that was between his brother and this Roy.
Outside Ed was pacing back and forth across the short wooden deck that overshot the river. It was nice to be home, he supposed. But he desperately missed Roy. If he closed his eyes he could still feel Roy's touch, see his face. But it only made him long for what he no longer had, so he opened his eyes while recognizing that he may not sleep for some time.
With a sigh he sat down on the edge of the deck and stared glumly up at the moon. This time last night he'd been in Roy's arms, and he shivered as he remembered every detail. Last night Roy had opened him up to what he had been fighting against, awakened the side of him that seemed to know just as instinctively as Roy knew, that they were meant to be together.
"I miss you." He sighed, and his head fell into his hands.
"Then come back with me."
Edward half-yelped and half-gasped as his head shot up and his eyes shot open. He barely even knew he had moved before he'd tipped off the deck to tackle Roy down into the water in a possessive hug. When Roy managed to get them back to the surface, Ed was laughing happily even as he cried while still clinging to Roy.
Roy smiled tenderly, and held his mate close to him with a contented sigh. "Are you always this much of an emotional mess?" He asked gently as he soothingly ran a hand through Ed's wet hair.
"Yes, you asshole." Edward muttered, and put a stop to his crying as he pulled back to gaze at the merman. "Are you really here?"
Roy smiled again, and caught Ed's lips in a gentle kiss. "I was hoping you'd come back with me."
Edward bit his lip uncertainly. "Roy…"
"Go with him."
Both of them looked over quickly to see Al smile and walk closer to sit on the edge of the deck.
"I'd thought you'd fallen in, but I see someone was already there to catch you." Al smiled at Roy. "You must be the one who asked my brother to marry him."
Roy looked at the blonde human he held, and then back to Al. "I am, if he'll ever have me."
Edward blushed, "Roy, this is my brother."
Roy nodded, and looked back to Ed with a decisive smile. "You were wrong."
"What?" Ed frowned at him, even as he stayed in Roy's arms.
"He's not more beautiful than you."
Alphonse grinned with a bit of a laugh as he watched his brother turn red from the compliment, and tried not to roll his eyes as Roy kissed him soundly. He had to clear his throat though to keep things from going much farther too soon. "Go with him, brother. You two obviously want to be with each other. Even if I have to wonder about his methods of showing up and keeping you in that freezing water."
"Not so cold here." Edward muttered from where he was pinned up against Roy's warm body. But he gently extracted himself and got back onto the deck dripping wet. "Al, I won't just abandon you."
Roy swam over, and hopped up as well, though the deck was a bit slippery under his scales. Damn freshwater made everything more slippery. "I can't exactly stay out of the water too long, as you can imagine." He told Al even as the youngest sibling stared wide-eyed at the tail and fins. "I couldn't exactly ride up on a white horse or something."
Al suddenly grinned, and stood up. This was the most exciting thing to ever happen to his brother and Ed was just sitting there. One of them needed to shove his brother along. "How do you propose Ed can live with you?"
"But Al, you need me here!"
"No, brother," Al shook his head somberly. "For once in your life, be selfish. You want to be with him, and he wants to be with you. With the money you brought back I'll be fine, believe me. So go with him, it's what you both want."
Roy turned to Ed, taking both the human's hands in his. "Edward, I love you. I want you to be my mate."
"But Roy," Ed turned his attention away from his stubbornly grinning brother, "we're not… alike. I can't go to your home and you can't stay for long in mine."
Roy squeezed the hands he held. "I can give you a tail in place of your legs. Just say the word and we never have to be apart again."
"But how?"
"Does it matter?" Al interrupted, "go with him Ed. You'll be happy, I know you will. You deserve to finally be happy. And it's not like you couldn't come visit."
Edward looked over at his brother, then back to Roy. "Al, could you give me a few minutes alone?"
Alphonse nodded, and quietly went back inside. Though he instantly planted himself at a window to watch.
Ed turned where he sat so he faced Roy. Taking a deep breath, he met Roy's curious black eyes and smiled. "I'm sorry I had to leave like that before."
Roy shook his head, "no, I know why you did. I was having some of my friends keep an eye on you. For the very reason of that creature you saw get shot. Envy would have tried to use you to get to me, and I wanted someone to be able to come get me if that happened. They were about to when there was no longer a need for it."
Edward grimaced, "I thought there was something seriously wrong with that thing."And he gave himself a mental shake. "Anyway, that's… the thing is when I left I didn't want to. I wanted us to stay together. It hurt to leave, even though I had to."
Roy smiled at him gently, and raised one hand to touch Ed's cheek. "You cried."
"Yeah." Edward wiped at his eyes roughly. "Don't remind me."
Roy chuckled and leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. "Are you finally falling for me?"
"Been there, done that." Ed replied softly. "I love you." He barely got the words out before he was kissing Roy quite thoroughly.
When they finally pulled apart just enough to get in some air, Roy laughed quietly, happily. "I want you to be my mate."
"I thought you'd never ask."
"I've been asking!" Roy protested as Ed laughed.
Edward kissed him quickly again and pulled away with a wink. "It's just taken me some time to get a clue."
Roy smiled, and traced Ed's lips with a finger. "So, will you let me get rid of those legs of yours?"
Ed bit his lip, and looked towards the shack. "Al…"
"Al wants you to be happy. You heard him." Roy reminded his mate patiently. "I think he'd be mad if you stayed and didn't want to."
Edward looked back at him, knowing Roy was right. With a small smile, he nodded. "Will this hurt?"
Roy slipped back into the water with a small splash, and urged Ed in with him. "Shouldn't. I've never done this before. But don't worry, I do know what I'm doing. It's kind of instinctual knowledge."
The water was a bit cold, and Ed shivered as he sidled closer to Roy. "Well if it hurts I'm not mating with you for a month."
Roy rolled his eyes, though he did not like the sound of that threat. "Don't make me nervous now."
Ed smirked, "how do you propose this mating thing happen anyway?"
"I'll just have to show you, you eager little human." Roy replied, and kissed Edward lovingly. "Now close your eyes, this'll be a bit bright."
Roy waited to be sure Ed wasn't trying to peek before he took a deep breath and focused on what he wanted to do. His own eyes slipped closed as a glittering silvery light swirled from the water. It lit up the surrounding area as if it were daylight again before vanishing all in an instant. Once all remains of the light were gone, Roy opened his eyes, and kissed Ed's forehead. "Did it hurt?"
Edward's eyes snapped open, and he was suddenly glad Roy was holding him because he nearly fell backwards into the water. "Tingly." He answered, and somehow managed to figure out how he was supposed to get the foreign feeling appendage above water a bit so he could see the result. The glitter of dark gold met his eyes, and he swished it around curiously while ignoring Roy's quiet laughter.
"We should be going, as soon as you're ready. We're going to miss our coronation at this rate." Roy informed him, still not releasing his hold on his mate. He knew very well what would happen if he let go right now. He was saving that amusement for later.
Edward blinked at him, and his tail slipped back under the water as he stared at Roy. "That's right, you're going to be king soon."
"As will you." Roy told him, "as my mate you have as much authority as I do."
Edward smiled at that, "so Al really does never have to worry about money again."
"If there's something valuable to humans down there, take what you wish when Al needs more of this money stuff."
Ed nodded, and looked back over to the shack. "Let me say goodbye first… hey, Al!"
Alphonse walked back outside, smiling when he saw them both in the water together. He didn't need to be told to know that his brother had finally made the right choice for his own happiness. He walked to the edge of the short dock, still smiling. "Just make sure you come back and visit. I'll be fine. Promise."
"I will." Edward promised. "I'll miss you, Al."
Al chuckled. "You'd miss Roy a lot more, you know you would." He teased, and then looked over at Roy. "Take good care of him, or I swear I'll peel every scale off one by one. Slowly."
Roy smiled reassuringly. "I don't plan to put him in danger now that I finally have him." And he looked at Ed. "Are you ready to leave?"
Edward shook his head, "one second." And he smiled at Al. "The flowers are yours. I'll settle for this guy." And as he jerked his head over at Roy, said merman promptly smirked while releasing his hold on Edward.
The new merman yelped and flailed as he fell back into the water with a large splash. It took Edward several tries, but finally he was able to figure out how to get some control back and surface again. He did so coughing only by habit, because he had had absolutely no trouble breathing under the water.
Roy had just finished telling Al something when Ed finally managed to come back up. With a grin and a nod to Al, he grabbed Ed by the arm. "This way, my beautiful mate. Time for us to go home. I'll teach you how to swim on the way. It's easier in open water."
Ed shrieked and laughed, waving to Al even as Roy hauled him off.
It didn't take Roy long to get them back to the ocean. He was a good swimmer, and hauling Ed around was much easier the second time around now that his human was no longer a human. Pulling Ed farther below the surface he gently stopped them.
"It'll start coming naturally, but just watch what I do. And don't fight currents, either go with them or around them." Roy informed him, while looking the new merman up and down appreciatively. "I did a good job."
Edward blushed and swatted at him, finding that there seemed to be no water resistance. He felt like the water was nothing more than wet air. "What happened to my shirt?"
Roy grinned, "you don't need it anymore. Besides, it's not like I haven't gotten your shirt off before."
"Roy!"
Roy laughed and ducked easily as Ed lunged at him. "You're not too bad right off." He noted, and flipped out of the way again.
Edward somehow managed to stop, though it was rather jerky and he had to figure out how to turn himself vertically again. Putting his hands on his hips he stared down the other merman. "Won't I be stared at though?"
"Not in the way you're thinking." Roy smiled. "We don't exactly have eyes for others mates." And he beckoned to his beautiful mate. "Come on, we'll take the scenic swim."
Grinning, Edward swam after him, his ungainly movements slowly molding into a semblance of ease.
When he'd first gotten onto that boat, he'd never dreamed he'd end up like this. He knew he wouldn't have it any other way though, than swimming to his new home beside the one he loved. And beside him Roy could never have thought that rescuing a pathetically drowning human would have given him someone to cherish and love. But it had. And he knew he'd spend the rest of his life making sure his beautiful mate was happy. It was all he needed.
They were all that they ever could have needed.
Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. She dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet.
Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. She grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless Torolf (which is seriously his name) quivering with desire in the hallway.
Torolf was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex. He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Hilda’s rich chest.
As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.
“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”
Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too.
“Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. “I need you.”
Torolf, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently.
Hilda looked at him expectantly.
“Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.”
At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. She parted her thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge.
Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.
Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it.
Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms!
The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room.
Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop.
She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water. “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…”
But her bed was empty.
Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.
The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen
A kingdom of isolation,
And it looks like I’m the queen.
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows I tried
Don’t let them in, don’t let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know
Well, now they know
Let it go, let it go
Can’t hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door
I don’t care
What they’re going to say
Let the storm rage on,
The cold never bothered me anyway
It’s funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can’t get to me at all
It’s time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I’m free
Let it go, let it go
I am one with the wind and sky
Let it go, let it go
You’ll never see me cry
Here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let the storm rage on
My power flurries through the air into the ground
My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast
I’m never going back,
The past is in the past
Let it go, let it go
And I'll rise like the break of dawn
Let it go, let it go
That perfect girl is gone
Here I stand
In the light of day
Let the storm rage on,
The cold never bothered me anyway
oh the cleverest men at Oxford, know all that there is to be known, but they don't know half as much as clever old Mr. Toad
I know, I know I've let you down
I've been a fool to myself
I thought that I could
live for no one else
But now through all the hurt and pain
Its time for me to respect
the ones you love
mean more than anything.
So with sadness in my heart
I feel the best thing I could do
is end it all
and leave forever
whats done is done, it feels so bad
what once was happy now is sad
I'll never love again
my world is ending
I wish that I could turn back time
'cause now the guilt is all mine
can't live without the trust from those you love.
I know we can't forget the past
you can't forget love and pride
because of that it's killing me inside
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down,
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down,
in my heart of hearts,
I know that I could never love again
I've lost everything
everything, everything
that matters to me,
matters in this world
I wish that I could turn back time
'cause now all the guilt is mine
can't live without
the trust from those you love
I know we can't forget the past
we can't forget love and pride
because of that, its killing me inside
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down
Jacob's inner monologue
Ok, so I might be a total jerk and all, but I really can't stand the guy my sister is crushing on. Yeah, I know I can be a little possessive sometimes, but after all, she is my sister. Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name if Jacob, but everyone calls me Jake. My dad is Charlie Swan. He was pretty busy about sixteen years ago. He had a wicked affair with my mom, a Quileute woman, and she got knocked up with me a couple months after Charlie got his wife Rene pregnant with my sister Bella. Needless to say, Rene left right after Bella was born, so Charlie got stuck with both of us!
Anyway, so she is a couple months older and all, but so what! I'm still bigger and stronger than her. I live with my dad and Bella in Forks, but I spend a lot of time with my mom too. It's kind of fucked up, but we deal with it.
At school today, my buddy Jasper told me that he heard his brother Edward telling everyone that he is going to ask my sister Bella to go out with him this Friday night. I fucking hate Edward! Jasper is ok, but the rest of those Cullen kids are spoiled rotten pricks! Edward is like totally the worst!
Mr. Perfect Edward Cullen, captain of the school baseball team, and number one ass hole on campus! My sister will go nuts over this idea. She is totally about him, just like all the other girls. Dumb bitches! They don't know anything! God, I fucking hate him! He goes around here like he's God or something. He thinks he's too good to talk to me, always turns his head when he sees me walking down the hall.
I swear he was whispering about me to his big, dumb, jock brother Emmett yesterday. They were both staring at me, and got real quiet when I passed them in the hall. Fags!
So I got this plan. I sent Bella a text during English class, asking her to meet me after school in the meadow. I'm going to tell her that she absolutely can't go out with Edward. I hope she takes it ok. I imagine she won't. But at this point, it's all I got.
Change from Jacob's thoughts to real time
"Bella, thanks for meeting me here. I was afraid you'd blow it off, what with the storm and all." Jake says as he gets off his dirt bike and walks toward his sister Bella.
"Yeah, what the hell was so important that I had to drive all the way out here for? Couldn't it wait till we got home?" Bella asks closing her truck door.
They walk toward each other as it starts to rain. Thunder rumbles, and lightening streaks across the cloudy sky, the wind begins to pick up.
"Jake, make this quick or were going to get fried!" Bella exclaims.
"Look sis, I just need to ask you for something. I know you aren't going to want to do this, but I need for you to do it for me. Please don't go out with Edward Cullen on Friday. He is a complete dick, and he will just use you, and then throw you away. Then I'll have to kick his ass, and he'll bring his big brother along, and it will be a complete "wipe up the ground with Jacob" match." Jacob pleads.
"Jake are you totally insane? Edward doesn't hate you. Why do you hate him?" Bella asks as the thunder continues to rumble, and the lightning strikes come closer and closer.
"He totally hates me!" Jacob shouts above the rising wind. "I know he was talking smack about me to Emmett the other day! They were both staring at me when I passed them. They got real quiet and all. I'm not stupid. I see him staring at me all the time, then when I turn to stare back; he looks away and kind of laughs to himself like he thinks I'm a dweeb or something."
"Jacob if you would just listen…." Bella begins.
Lightning strikes the ground between the two siblings. Jacob and Bella are thrown backwards and away from each other. They lie stunned on the wet ground, as the storm suddenly passes over. Within moments, the sun is out and shining on the wet meadow grass.
"Holy shit Bella, what the fuck was that all about? Are you ok?" Jacob asks as he turns to look for his sister, but who he sees looking back at him is not his sister. It's himself.
Jacob stares at the version of him sitting in the wet grass a few feet away. That version looks at him, tilting its head slightly to one side as if to see better, a look of complete bafflement on its face.
God do I look that stupid when I'm confused? Jacob wonders.
"Jake… what just happened…did we…are you…Holy Crow!" Bella exclaims.
"Jacob, did we switch bodies?" She screams.
Jacob looks down at himself for the first time, and notices, to his horror that he is indeed in his sister's body. He can see her long hair, her painted fingernails, and her breasts. Yes, he is in his sister's body, and she is in his.
"How the hell did this happen?" Jacob cries out, noticing that he is speaking in Bella's voice as well. "Oh shit! What are we going to do? We have to tell dad!"
"Tell dad what? Are you nuts? We can't tell anyone. Everyone will think we're crazy. They'll put us in strait jackets and haul us to the funny farm." Bella replies.
"But…we…I…Bella, I don't want to stay like this!" Jacob whines.
"I don't want to stay like this either Jake, but for now, we just have to play it cool. We need to research this, try to find out if it's ever happened before. If it happened once, it can happen again." Bella answers.
So they agree to keep it on the down low. Bella takes Jacob's dirt bike, he takes her truck, and they head home.
Return to Jake's monologue.
Jesus Christ jumped up! Of all the awful shit that could happen to a guy! Now I'm stuck in a chick's body, and not the way I like to be stuck in a chick's body! I keep thinking I'm going to wake up, but I haven't so far. I have to dress like my sister, walk like her, even smell like a girl. So help me God, if we have to stay like this I will kill myself! The only good thing about it is that she is not on her period, because oh mother fucker, I couldn't handle that!
Bella is taking it ok I guess. She's been looking this kind of thing up on the internet, and trying to find out if it's ever been documented before. I'm sure it hasn't. I think I'm going to go to the Quileute elders and ask them for advice. Maybe they can point us to a shaman or something. I'm willing to try anything.
We've been staying home from school for the last couple days. I can fake it in front of dad, I mean anyone can be the moody emo girl, but I can't fake it in front of my friends. Bella thinks being me is easy. I suppose it would be easier to be me than to be her. I mean come on, I'm pretty simple and uncomplicated, Bella on the other hand….
Yesterday Jasper came by to see me, and I had to fight the temptation to go answer the door. Bella ran him off when she told him we were both sick. I hate to see myself walking around, and not be myself.
Worse of all, she's insisting that I go on her date with Edward tonight. She is warning me that if I don't go, and if I don't impress him, she will go to school on Monday wearing nothing but a pair of my CK boxer briefs. I can imagine the humiliation that will cause for me if we ever do switch back. I guess I don't have a choice. If that monkey tries to make a pass at me, I swear I will punch him right in the sack!
Back to real time
"Ok Jake, this dress will be perfect. Now remember, don't smudge the makeup, cross your legs properly, smile, laugh at all his jokes, and for God's sake, don't do anything a boy would do." Bella warns as she applies a bit of blush and some lip stick to the face that would have normally been hers.
"What? You mean I can't burp and fart after I get done eating?" Jake asks grinning up at himself.
"No God damn it! This is serious! Promise me you won't fuck this up!" She pleads tearfully.
Jake hates to see tears in his own eyes. It's not becoming on a guy, and he doesn't really want to make his sister cry.
"Ok, I was just kidding, but try to see it through my eyes, and I mean, from my position. I feel totally gay right now, and I'm about to go on a date with a guy I totally hate! I won't fuck it up, but I definitely won't be having a good time", Jake reassures his sister.
The ringing doorbell brings them both to immediate attention.
"I'll get that! Just take a minute and calm yourself." Bella states as she bounds out the door in Jake's body and saunters down the stairs with Jake's heavy steps.
Jacob stares at the reflection of Bella in the mirror in front of him. She has made this version of herself beautiful with make-up, jewelry, and a very short skirt. Jacob self-consciously pulls down on that skirt in an effort to cover up more of the exposed skin.
Oh this sucks donkey dicks! Jacob thinks as he stands in the black patent leather flats Bella put on him. She wanted heels, but that would have been a total disaster.
He makes his way down the stairs slowly, reminding himself to smile at the handsome young man standing in the doorway.
Ok, so he's not ugly, but I still fucking hate him!
"Bella, you look beautiful tonight!" Edward gushes as he reaches out to take Jake's hand. It's all Jake can do to contain his urge to draw back.
"Thank you Edward, you look nice too." Jacob forces himself to say.
"Well, you two better get going, remember Cullen, have her back by ten pm, and not one minute latter, or my dad will be after you with a rifle." Bella states in Jacob's deep rolling voice.
"You betcha." Edward replies cockily in Bella's direction as he places his arm around Jake's shoulder and leads him out the door.
Don't flinch! Jacob reminds himself, almost hysterically.
Edward helps Jacob in Bella's body into the passenger seat of his Volvo, then gets in, and starts the car.
"So, where are we going?" Jacob asks, trying to sound innocent.
"I thought we could have dinner at my place. My family is out on a camping trip, so we have the house all to ourselves." Edward replies.
"Oh", is all Jacob can answer. He was not prepared to be alone with Edward.
"Ok, but you should know, I'm not that kind of girl." Jacob states firmly.
Edward bursts into uncontrolled laughter. "Of course you aren't that kind of girl." He manages to say between snorts.
"What exactly is so funny?" Jacob asks.
"Oh nothing. Let's put on some music shall we?" Edward asks. "What do you like to listen to?"
"Papa Roach, Avenged Seven Fold, Marilyn Manson, anything like that…." Jacob starts, and then realizes that his sister Bella wouldn't like those kinds of bands.
"I mean… you know, I just thought you might like those bands Edward." Jacob states, trying to save the situation.
"I see", Edward replies. "Interesting choices Bella. I would have expected something like that from your brother, but not from you."
"Yeah um, yeah, Jake likes that kind of music I guess. Is it hot in here? I think it's hot in here. Can I open the window?" Jake asks, pulling at the collar of the pretty pink sweater he is wearing.
"Sure", Edward answers, and lowers the passenger window for Jacob.
As they drive on in silence, Jacob cannot help but notice the quirky smile playing on Edward's face. It makes him uncomfortable. Edward really is cute. Bella would probably have been climbing all over him by now.
God, how in hell am I going to pull this off? What if he wants to have sex? You told him you weren't that kind of girl! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!
The Volvo pulls up in front of the Cullen's impressive modern style house. Jacob waits as Edward walks around to open the door for him, and reaches inside to help him climb out.
"Come on, let's go inside. Are you hungry?" Edward asks.
"Yeah, I'm starved." Jake answers, then immediately regrets it.
"I mean, I could eat a little something, maybe salad?"
I'm blowing this! I know I'm blowing this!
"I was thinking steak and baked potatoes, maybe some cherry pie after that. Do you like cherry pie Bella?" Edward asks looking seductively at Bella.
I'm going to be sick!
"Um, yeah, cherry pie is good." Jacob replies, feeling his face blushing.
"I just love cherry pie!" Edward says as he runs his tongue along his lower lip. "I can remember the first time I ever ate cherry pie, it was so hot and moist, so sweet and tangy at the same time. Can you remember the first time you had cherry pie Bella?" Edward asks moving closer to Jake.
Jake takes an involuntary step back and runs into the kitchen counter, trapped with nowhere to go.
"Um, no, I can't…." Jake stammers as he tries to move past Edward.
God, is this it's like for a girl when I'm moving in on her? I swear, I will never treat a girl like this again! Jacob thinks as he looks from side to side for a way out.
Edward puts both hands on the counter on either side of Jake, effectively pinning him against the counter. Jake feels the blush creeping onto his face, and knows that sort of thing only fuels a man's fire even more. He always liked to know he was making the girl feel a little uncomfortable. All men want that kind of power. Edward clearly wanted it.
"Let me kiss you Bella, please?" Edward asks as he presses himself against Jake and moves his hands up to the sides of Jake's face.
It's ok Jacob, he thinks your Bella, and all he sees when he looks at you is Bella. Would Bella want to kiss him? Are you kidding? Of course she would. She will kill me if I fuck this up. Ok, you can do this Jakie boy, just close your eyes, and pretend.
Edward leans down, and presses his lips against Jacobs. As he deepens the kiss, he begins to grind the hardness in the crotch of his jeans against Jacob. The kiss is so hot. Jacob can't deny it. This girl's body is responding. Jacob hadn't been prepared for that. He can feel the waves of pleasure beginning to roll over this unfamiliar body, but the waves feel somewhat the same as they always did for him. He'd always wondered about that, if it was the same for a girl. He was about to find out. Edward breaks the kiss and comes up for air.
"Man Bella, you're a hell of a kisser! You got a really strong mouth for a girl! I didn't expect that." Edward gasps.
"Sorry, I didn't mean…I mean…what?" Jacob stammers.
"Come on; let's go up to my room." Edward says, and before Jake can protest, Edward scoops him up and carries him up the stairs.
Shit, this guy doesn't waste any time! What now? I'm not actually going to go through with this am I? Oh God!
Edward kicks open the door to his room, and tosses Jake onto the bed, falling down with him and pulling their bodies close together. Jake stiffens as he feels Edward's hand snaking up the back of his leg and up under the skirt, that horrible short skirt Bella had made him wear. Edward begins to tug at the frilly pink panties Bella picked out. He managed to pull them down and had them off before Jacob could stop him. Not that he could have, he was just a weak girl in Bella's body.
"Edward, I told you I'm not that kind of girl!" Jacob protests.
"I know you're not that kind of girl baby. Just relax. I promise you will enjoy this." Edward answers with a twinkle in his eyes.
He reaches up and pulls the sweater over Jakes head. Jacob understands, in that moment, how vulnerable it feels to be a girl in that situation. Edward rolls on top of him, pinning him against the sheets, and invading Jacob's mouth with his eager tongue for another hot kiss.
Jacob fights, tries to resist it, but the girl's body wants this, wants Edward.
What's the point? Bella would give in. You have to do it. You might as well enjoy it.
Jake stops trying to fight against the pleasure he is feeling in Bella's body. He gives in, and wraps his arms around Edward, tugging at Edward's shirt. Edward gets the point, and sits up, never taking his eyes off Jacob's. He pulls his shirt out of his jeans, and unbuttons it, sliding it off his shoulders to reveal his athletic body.
Yeah, whatever buddy. My body is still hotter than yours. At least it is when I'm me.
Edward reaches under Jacob and unsnaps the Victoria's Secret bra pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. Jacob wants to cover up, but he can't. Edward has already got one of those perky little tits in his mouth, sucking the life out of it and biting playfully at the hard little nipples.
Jacob gasps in Bella's voice, surprised at how pleasurable the feeling is. Edward slides one of his hands down and unzips the skirt. As he pulls it down, Jacob realizes he is completely naked in this new form. He finds he doesn't really mind.
It not like he knows he's going to be fucking me. He thinks its Bella. Does that make it all right? Am I ok with this? Yeah, I think I am.
Edward stands up beside the bed and shoves his jeans and boxers off, then climbs back in bed, pulling Jacob against him.
"Are you a virgin Bella?" He asks.
Jacob freezes. He has absolutely no idea if Bella is a virgin or not. He never thought to ask.
"Um, I…well…I don't…I'm not really sure…. I mean..." Jacob stumbles.
"You don't know if you're a virgin? What, you got drunk at a party and don't remember?" Edward laughs.
"I didn't….I…" Jacob gives up. He decides to say the first thing that comes to mind something he would have said if it was him and not Bella.
"Well, if you really want to know, why don't you stop talking about it and find out for yourself." Jacob replies snarkily.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Edward shouts, rolling all his weight onto Jacob and firing them both up with another soul kiss.
Jacob is breathless when Edward stops the kiss to move his mouth down Jacob's neck. He waits, hoping Edward will bite his nipples or suck on those firm little tits again. He is not disappointed.
Edward slides his hand down over the flat little belly, dragging his fingers through the perfectly manicured triangle of dark pubic hair, and pinches the hardening clitoris between his fingers.
Jacob wreathes on the bed. He never imagined it would feel like this.
"Oh go down on me Edward. Please, please!" He begs, and Edward is quick to answer.
"I'd be happy to do that for you, but you have to ask me the right way."
"What's the right way?" Jacob cries.
"You know." Edward answers. "I wanna hear you talk dirty."
Jacob pauses for a moment, tries to think like the guy he is. What would he want to hear? Then it comes to him.
"Edward, would you eat my pussy out for me please?" He asks in a sweet little girl voice.
"I would be delighted to." Edward answers.
Jacob grabs the sides of Edward's head, as the keening pleasure takes him over the edge. Edward is good with his tongue as those mind blowing kisses have already demonstrated, but he is even better at going down. Edward pushes two of his fingers inside the wet and ready pussy that is, and isn't really the property of its current owner.
"I've wanted to see this pussy for so long. You have no idea." Edward moans. "You're so tight, so wet, and so hot. I knew you would be."
Jacob is too far gone at this point. He is wondering if he will ever be able to be turned on with a girl again. He is solid into this. He wasn't planning to be, but he is.
"Let me fuck you Bella." Edward pleads. "I'll wear a rubber."
"Go for it." Jake answers, fully aware that Bella would probably have said something else, but not able to articulate anything more lucid.
Jacob watches as Edward retrieves a condom from the bedside table drawer, tears open the wrapper with his teeth, and slides it onto his big hard cock. He stands at the side of the bed stroking himself and looking down at Jacob who is looking back up at him through Bella's eyes.
"Help me out here girl." Edward says, reaching out and pulling Jake's head toward him.
He wants me to suck him off. Oh this is not going to be fun. Would she be good at it? You can do this Jake; just do what you would want done to you.
Jake wraps his hand around the base of Edward's cock, and tentatively takes the girth into his mouth. He finds that he can do it after all. Edward is big, but his own cock when it's hard it probably bigger than Edwards. The ache starts in his jaw, he gags a couple times, but overall, he thinks he gives pretty good service. Edward evidently thinks so too. He can't take it very long.
"Hold up! That's enough. I don't want to come in your mouth. Get on your knee's baby on the foot of the bed. I wanna do you doggie." Edward urges.
Jacob gets into the awkward position, and tries to suppress his anxiety and he feels Edward's hands on his hips. In a moment they would both find out if Bella really was a virgin. Apparently she wasn't. There was no painful tearing sensation, only a feeling of being blissfully filled. Jake loved it.
"Yes Edward, fuck me." He cries out in Bella's voice.
"I will baby. You like that big hard cock." Edward grunts between thrusts.
Jacob feels the rolling ecstatic pleasure taking him over the edge again as Edward reaches under to rub at the clit again. Jake doesn't know if he can take it. It's just almost too much. He feels himself coming again, the waves moving out over his stomach, thighs, all over. He cries out his pleasure.
"Feel good baby?" Bet you never came with anyone else like you're coming with me." Edward whispers.
You don't know the half of it!
Jacob is startled when he feels Edward pull out. He knows Edward hasn't come yet. Then he realizes what Edward has in mind when he feels pressure against another opening.
"Let me fuck you in the ass." Edward pleads.
"I don't know…" Jacob starts, but Edward doesn't wait for an answer.
Jake cries out in unbelievable pain, and is shocked when he realizes what Edward is doing.
"Stop, don't….Please!"
Edward doesn't stop.
"Relax, this isn't so bad, give it a chance." Edward coaxes.
Jacob knows this is going to hurt. He's done it with girls before. He is hearing the same encouraging lies he's told girls to get them to agree to do it. He relents, and tries to relax. Edward pushes slowly inside of him, sheathing himself completely.
Edward leans down to whisper against Jacob's ear.
"Come on Jacob, get into it."
What the fuck? Did he just call me Jacob?
He feels Edward's hand tighten in his hair, as his head is pulled up. Jacob looks straight ahead and into a mirror. He can see Edward's face directly above his, Edward's hand tangled tightly in his hair, and it's not Bella he see's looking back at him. It's his face, his reflection. Edward is smiling wickedly.
"What the hell?" It's the only thing Jacob can say. His chest is suddenly pushed down against the bed, and Edward continues his onslaught. Jacob is paralyzed with shock. He is back in his body, he can feel that, but Edward knew. He knew all along.
How did he know? He always knew! Why? Did he cause this? WTF!
Jacob is momentarily drawn out of his shocked reverie as the intensity of the sex amps up, and Edward tries to pull Jacob back into the moment.
"I told you to get into it boy! I meant it! You love this and you know it! A couple minutes ago you were begging me to eat your pussy! Now you don't have one. Still want me?" Edward teased.
Jacob couldn't answer. Edward was literally nailing him to the sheets. One moment, maybe two and Jacob felt the orgasm taking him again, the old familiar way. It was good, no it was fantastic.
"Fuck!" Jacob gasps as he collapses against the bed.
He can hear Edward taking God's name in vain behind him as he comes as well.
They lay together in Edward's bed, limbs intertwined.
"How did it happen?" Jacob asks.
"My sister Alice is one hell of a witch. She brought up the storm that caused you guys to switch." Edward answers.
"But why?" Jacob wonders aloud.
"Simple you hottie. I knew you would never give in to me. I've been watching and wanting you for a long time. I couldn't help myself. I had to have you. You're just too fucking hot! A guy shouldn't look as good as you do! I got Alice to cast the spell for me, the rest is history. Sorry it had to be so difficult for you, but you do look good in a short skirt." Edward laughs.
"Fuck you! Now what the hell am I gonna wear home?" Jacob asks.
"Jasper took care of that for me. He stold your gym clothes from your locker." Edward answers.
"He knows about this?" Jacob gasps in horror.
"Yep, but don't worry. The secret is safe with us." Edward replies.
"What am I going to tell Bella?" Jacob wonders.
"I wouldn't worry about Bella. She's been with Alice all this time. Alice can be very persuasive. She's had her eye on Bella for a while."
"Holy Crow!" Jacob exclaims. It's the only thing he can think to say.
The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to
the taxonomic family Equidae. The horse has evolved over the past 45 to 55 million years from a small multi-toed creature into the large, single-toed animal of today. Humans began to domesticate horses around 4000 BC, and their domestication is believed to have been widespread by 3000 BC. Horses in the subspecies caballus are domesticated, although some domesticated populations live in the wild as feral horses. These feral populations are not true wild horses, as this term is used to describe horses that have never been domesticated, such as the endangered Przewalski's horse, a separate subspecies, and the only remaining true wild horse. There is an extensive, specialized vocabulary used to describe equine-related concepts, covering everything from anatomy to life stages, size, colors, markings, breeds, locomotion, and behavior.
Horses' anatomy enables them to make use of speed to escape predators and they have a well-developed sense of balance and a strong fight-or-flight response. Related to this need to flee from predators in the wild is an unusual trait: horses are able to sleep both standing up and lying down. Female horses, called mares, carry their young for approximately 11 months, and a young horse, called a foal, can stand and run shortly following birth. Most domesticated horses begin training under saddle or in harness between the ages of two and four. They reach full adult development by age five, and have an average lifespan of between 25 and 30 years.
Horse breeds are loosely divided into three categories based on general temperament: spirited "hot bloods" with speed and endurance; "cold bloods", such as draft horses and some ponies, suitable for slow, heavy work; and "warmbloods", developed from crosses between hot bloods and cold bloods, often focusing on creating breeds for specific riding purposes, particularly in Europe. There are more than 300 breeds of horse in the world today, developed for many different uses.
Horses and humans interact in a wide variety of sport competitions and non-competitive recreational pursuits, as well as in working activities such as police work, agriculture, entertainment, and therapy. Horses were historically used in warfare, from which a wide variety of riding and driving techniques developed, using many different styles of equipment and methods of control. Many products are derived from horses, including meat, milk, hide, hair, bone, and pharmaceuticals extracted from the urine of pregnant mares. Humans provide domesticated horses with food, water and shelter, as well as attention from specialists such as veterinarians and farriers.
Did you know? JesuOtaku is Truly Truly Truly Outrageous.
We have Hivo, but it's a disease.
It's a horrible, horrible disease.
Oh, my.
Dumb bees!
You must want to sting all those jerks.
We try not to sting.
It's usually fatal for us.
So you have to watch your temper.
Very carefully.
You kick a wall, take a walk,
write an angry letter and throw it out.
Work through it like any emotion:
Anger, jealousy, lust.
Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?
Yeah.
- What is wrong with you?!
- It's a bug.
He's not bothering anybody.
Get out of here, you creep!
What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?
Yeah, it was. How did you know?
It felt like about 10 pages.
Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.
You've really got that
down to a science.
- I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue.
- I'll bet.
What in the name
of Mighty Hercules is this?
How did this get here?
Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,
Ray Liotta Private Select?
- Is he that actor?
- I never heard of him.
- Why is this here?
- For people. We eat it.
You don't have
enough food of your own?
- Well, yes.
- How do you get it?
- Bees make it.
- I know who makes it!
And it's hard to make it!
There's heating, cooling, stirring.
You need a whole Krelman thing!
- It's organic.
- It's our-ganic!
It's just honey, Barry.
Just what?!
Bees don't know about this!
This is stealing! A lot of stealing!
You've taken our homes, schools,
hospitals! This is all we have!
And it's on sale?!
I'm getting to the bottom of this.
I'm getting to the bottom
of all of this!
Hey, Hector.
- You almost done?
- Almost.
He is here. I sense it.
Well, I guess I'll go home now
and just leave this nice honey out,
with no one around.
You're busted, box boy!
I knew I heard something.
So you can talk!
I can talk.
And now you'll start talking!
Where you getting the sweet stuff?
Who's your supplier?
I don't understand.
I thought we were friends.
The last thing we want
to do is upset bees!
You're too late! It's ours now!
You, sir, have crossed
the wrong sword!
You, sir, will be lunch
for my iguana, Ignacio!
Where is the honey coming from?
Tell me where!
Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!
Orazy person!
What horrible thing has happened here?
These faces, they never knew
what hit them. And now
they're
Just keep still.
What? You're not dead?
Do I look dead? They will wipe anything
that moves. Where you headed?
To Honey Farms.
I am onto something huge here.
I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood,
crazy stuff. Blows your head off!
I'm going to Tacoma.
- And you?
- He really is dead.
All right.
Uh-oh!
- What is that?!
- Oh, no!
- A wiper! Triple blade!
- Triple blade?
Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!
Why does everything have
to be so doggone clean?!
How much do you people need to see?!
Open your eyes!
Stick your head out the window!
From NPR News in Washington,
I'm Oarl Kasell.
But don't kill no more bugs!
- Bee!
- Moose blood guy!!
- You hear something?
- Like what?
Like tiny screaming.
Turn off the radio.
Whassup, bee boy?
Hey, Blood.
Just a row of honey jars,
as far as the eye could see.
Wow!
I assume wherever this truck goes
is where they're getting it.
I mean, that honey's ours.
- Bees hang tight.
- We're all jammed in.
It's a close community.
Not us, man. We on our own.
Every mosquito on his own.
- What if you get in trouble?
- You a mosquito, you in trouble.
Nobody likes us. They just smack.
See a mosquito, smack, smack!
At least you're out in the world.
You must meet girls.
Mosquito girls try to trade up,
get with a moth, dragonfly.
Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.
You got to be kidding me!
Mooseblood's about to leave
the building! So long, bee!
- Hey, guys!
- Mooseblood!
I knew I'd catch y'all down here.
Did you bring your crazy straw?
We throw it in jars, slap a label on it,
and it's pretty much pure profit.
What is this place?
A bee's got a brain
the size of a pinhead.
They are pinheads!
Pinhead.
- Oheck out the new smoker.
- Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.
The Thomas 3000!
Smoker?
Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic.
Twice the nicotine, all the tar.
A couple breaths of this
knocks them right out.
They make the honey,
and we make the money.
"They make the honey,
and we make the money"?
Oh, my!
What's going on? Are you OK?
Yeah. It doesn't last too long.
Do you know you're
in a fake hive with fake walls?
Our queen was moved here.
We had no choice.
This is your queen?
That's a man in women's clothes!
That's a drag queen!
What is this?
Oh, no!
There's hundreds of them!
Bee honey.
Our honey is being brazenly stolen
on a massive scale!
This is worse than anything bears
have done! I intend to do something.
Oh, Barry, stop.
Who told you humans are taking
our honey? That's a rumor.
Do these look like
----
That's a conspiracy theory.
These are obviously doctored photos.
How did you get mixed up in this?
He's been talking to humans.
- What?
- Talking to humans?!
He has a human girlfriend.
And they make out!
Make out? Barry!
We do not.
- You wish you could.
- Whose side are you on?
The bees!
I dated a cricket once in San Antonio.
Those crazy legs kept me up all night.
Barry, this is what you want
to do with your life?
I want to do it for all our lives.
Nobody works harder than bees!
Dad, I remember you
coming home so overworked
your hands were still stirring.
You couldn't stop.
I remember that.
What right do they have to our honey?
We live on two cups a year. They put it
in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!
Even if it's true, what can one bee do?
Sting them where it really hurts.
In the face! The eye!
- That would hurt.
- No.
Up the nose? That's a killer.
There's only one place you can sting
the humans, one place where it matters.
Hive at Five, the hive's only
full-hour action news source.
No more bee beards!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"...I see. Thank god it was nothing serious. But a molester attacking her... he must be reckless or have discerning tastes.
Either way he was a stupid molester. I thought..."
"You thought she knocked him out instead of running away, right?"
"Yeah. It's rare for her to run away.
But... I see, even Mitsuzuri is weak against molesters. It's impossible to teach femininity unless something like this happens."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You remind me of the babe
GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT??????
DICKBUTT.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And lo did the gods say onto the people:
"Follow @TheDailySnaggle on Twitter."
And so to did the gods say onto the MRA Army:
"'Not all men' is a bullshit argument, stop using it you pussies."
The MRA army did not listen and choose to deny the prophet Snagglepuss and be utter assholes to women on the internet. Such is the way of the internet and the assholes who populate it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BADADABAP BAP BADOBAP! ~YEAH~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!
You've reached the end of the page!
NOW STOP MAKING TVTROPES PAGES ABOUT REAL PEOPLE
and especially stop harassing them about their personal lives and writing gross fanfiction about them
STOP.
Is there an issue? Send a MessageReason:
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Changed line(s) 1,7 (click to see context) from:
* ActorAllusion: In her review of ''Anime/PrincessTutu'', she says, "I see a [[Manga/OuranHighSchoolHostClub host club]] in [[VicMignogna someone's]] future..." on a clip of Femio.
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: She reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where she looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
* ScheduleSlip:
** JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
** She recently stated on [[http://www.formspring.me/JesuOtaku her new Formspring account]] that they will continue, but they'll come as they're done, like Linkara's WebVideo/HistoryOfPowerRangers.
----
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder: She reviews anime, is making a retrospective on all the Franchise/{{Digimon}} anime, dubs {{Anime Theme Song}}s, is analyzing the Manga/{{Trigun}} anime, is working on a Fan Dub of KatawaShoujo, and--oh yeah--decided to see every wide-release movie that came out, and in 2012 started doing a show about several of them (Alongside one where she looks at ''every anime coming out in the winter, spring, summer and fall seasons'', and does a livestream every Saturday.
* ScheduleSlip:
** JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of the first five seasons of ''Franchise/{{Digimon}}'' was intended to encompass August 2010. The ''Anime/DigimonAdventure'' review finally came out on August ''20th'' (with part 2 only half-done until about a week later). It then took until ''November'' 6th for the first part of ''Anime/DigimonAdventure02'' to be released, followed by parts 2 and 3 on the 23rd (and part 2 half-done until the 28th). Following ''02'', her weekly anime review continued for the first time since July, with the fate of rest of the ''Digimon'' reviews left uncertain.
** She recently stated on [[http://www.formspring.me/JesuOtaku her new Formspring account]] that they will continue, but they'll come as they're done, like Linkara's WebVideo/HistoryOfPowerRangers.
----
to:
----
And lo, doth the Internet sleep. Dreaming, dreaming of
Warbling synths began to flow through the air, a haunting voice fading in from a distance, slowly overpowering the synth... "You know you want me." The voice rang throughout the lands, causing everyone to stop fighting. "I
* AttentionDeficitCreatorDisorder:
"Here's the situation; Been to every nation, nobody's ever made me feel the way that you do." ... Yes, the King and Queen were very well acquainted with the many lands foreigners were from. Now, people were scratching their heads. "You know my motivation, given my reputation." ... The King and Queen had a very respectable history. What on earth could it mean? "Please excuse me, I don't mean to be rude." ... People perked their heads a bit, before tilting them in confusion.
"But tonight I'm fucking you." The King and Queen raised their staves, drawing them together, and incinerated the land in one fell swoop.
------
Like father, like son.
You're always number one.
わ―\―\―\―\もういいですそういうの!
今日も
同じ一日が始まる
誰よりも他人の目を気にして
「実際かわいい日もあるよ?勘違いじゃないし」
「無視かよ...」
あの時の気持ちが
変わってしまうのがこわくて
「わいわいは嫌いなの 一緒にされたくないし」
そんな僕らを無視して
「生きて行こう!」とおっしゃってる
「優しくされて ちょうどいい」
I\'m on my way to finding my way.
健気なの察しろや!
夢のない時代よ 目を覚まして
私がモテる未来まで この世界を赦さない
モテた者は遠慮せい これ以上は遠慮せい
無駄な抵抗はやめて
ホレろ ホレろ ホレろ ホレろ
モテろ モテろ モテろ モテろ
全てが変わる未来で会おう
私がモテないのはどう考えてもお前らが悪い!
Yeah!
This is a song of hope,
for those who feel loneliness.
What can they do for the future,
those who never knew this sorrow.
CHECK IT, BREAK DOWN
みんなが好きだから 正しいとか
そういうのやめろや
うるさい時代よ ちょっと黙って
私がモテる未来まで 何もする気が起こらない
騒ぐ者は遠慮せい 発言にも気をつけい
哀しい目に気づいて
I\'m on my way to finding my way.
健気なの察しろや
夢のない時代よ 目を覚まして
私がモテる未来まで この世界を赦さない
モテた者は遠慮せい これ以上は遠慮せい
私はここにいるよ!
ホレろ ホレろ ホレろ ホレろ
モテろ モテろ モテろ モテろ
全てが変わる未来で会おう
ん～ 1 2 3 4!
私がモテないのはどう考えてもお前らが悪い!
Best buddies, best pals.
You always seem to work things out.
Can't you see you're two of a kind?
Looking for a real good time
Report to the Goof Troop
And we'll always stick together
We're the Goof Troop
Best of friends forever
Side by side where ever you go
We're always ready to roll
We're the Goof Troop
And we always stick together
Oh, we're the Goof Troop
Best of friends forever
To be, or not to be, that is the question—
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep—
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,
The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,
The pangs of despised Love, the Law’s delay,
The insolence of Office, and the Spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would these Fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn
No Traveler returns, Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the Native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their Currents turn awry,
And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia. Nymph, in all thy Orisons
Be thou all my sins remembered.
Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say
What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,
Which in the very thought renews the fear.
So bitter is it, death is little more;
But of the good to treat, which there I found,
Speak will I of the other things I saw there.
I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
So full was I of slumber at the moment
In which I had abandoned the true way.
But after I had reached a mountain's foot,
At that point where the valley terminated,
Which had with consternation pierced my heart,
Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders,
Vested already with that planet's rays
Which leadeth others right by every road.
Then was the fear a little quieted
That in my heart's lake had endured throughout
The night, which I had passed so piteously.
And even as he, who, with distressful breath,
Forth issued from the sea upon the shore,
Turns to the water perilous and gazes;
So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward,
Turn itself back to re-behold the pass
Which never yet a living person left.
After my weary body I had rested,
The way resumed I on the desert slope,
So that the firm foot ever was the lower.
And lo! almost where the ascent began,
A panther light and swift exceedingly,
Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er!
And never moved she from before my face,
Nay, rather did impede so much my way,
That many times I to return had turned.
The time was the beginning of the morning,
And up the sun was mounting with those stars
That with him were, what time the Love Divine
At first in motion set those beauteous things;
So were to me occasion of good hope,
The variegated skin of that wild beast,
The hour of time, and the delicious season;
But not so much, that did not give me fear
A lion's aspect which appeared to me.
He seemed as if against me he were coming
With head uplifted, and with ravenous hunger,
So that it seemed the air was afraid of him;
And a she-wolf, that with all hungerings
Seemed to be laden in her meagreness,
And many folk has caused to live forlorn!
She
With the affright that from her aspect came,
That I the hope relinquished of the height.
And as he is who willingly acquires,
And the time comes that causes him to lose,
Who weeps in all his thoughts and is despondent,
E'en such made me that beast withouten peace,
Which, coming on against me by degrees
Thrust me back thither where the sun is silent.
While I was rushing downward to the lowland,
Before mine eyes did one present himself,
Who seemed from long-continued silence hoarse.
When I beheld him in the desert vast,
"Have pity on me," unto him I cried,
"Whiche'er thou art, or shade or real man!"
He answered me: "Not man; man once I was,
And both my parents were of Lombardy,
And Mantuans by country both of them.
'Sub Julio' was I born, though it was late,
And lived at Rome under the good Augustus,
During the time of false and lying gods.
A poet was I, and I sang that just
Son of Anchises, who came forth from Troy,
After that Ilion the superb was burned.
But thou, why goest thou back to such annoyance?
Why climb'st thou not the Mount Delectable,
Which is the source and cause of every joy?"
"Now, art thou that Virgilius and that fountain
Which spreads abroad so wide a river of speech?"
I made response to him with bashful forehead.
"O, of the other poets honour and light,
Avail me the long study and great love
That have impelled me to explore thy volume!
Thou art my master, and my author thou,
Thou art alone the one from whom I took
The beautiful style that has done honour to me.
Behold the beast, for which I have turned back;
Do thou protect me from her, famous Sage,
For she doth make my veins and pulses tremble."
"Thee it behoves to take another road,"
Responded he, when he beheld me weeping,
"If from this savage place thou wouldst escape;
Because this beast, at which thou criest out,
Suffers not any one to pass her way,
But so doth harass him, that she destroys him;
And has a nature so malign and ruthless,
That never doth she glut her greedy will,
And after food is hungrier than before.
Many the animals with whom she weds,
And more they shall be still, until the Greyhound
Comes, who shall make her perish in her pain.
He shall not feed on either earth or pelf,
But upon wisdom, and on love and virtue;
'Twixt Feltro and Feltro shall his nation be;
Of that low Italy shall he be the saviour,
On whose account the maid Camilla died,
Euryalus, Turnus, Nisus, of their wounds;
Through every city shall he hunt her down,
Until he shall have driven her back to Hell,
There from whence envy first did let her loose.
Therefore I think and judge it for thy best
Thou follow me, and I will be thy guide,
And lead thee hence through the eternal place,
Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations,
Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate,
Who cry out each one for the second death;
And thou shalt see those who contented are
Within the fire, because they hope to come,
Whene'er it may be, to the blessed people;
To whom, then, if thou wishest to ascend,
A soul shall be for that than I more worthy;
With her at my departure I will leave thee;
Because that Emperor, who reigns above,
In that I was rebellious to his law,
Wills that through me none come into his city.
He governs everywhere, and there he reigns;
There is his city and his lofty throne;
O happy he whom thereto he elects!"
And I to him: "Poet, I thee entreat,
By that same God whom thou didst never know,
So that I may escape this woe and worse,
Thou wouldst conduct me there where thou hast said,
That I may see the portal of Saint Peter,
And those thou makest so disconsolate."
Then he moved on, and I behind him followed.
The Goof Troop. Best of friends forever.
For twelve years, you have been asking: Who is John Galt? This is John Galt speaking. I am the man who loves his life. I am the man who does not sacrifice his love or his values. I am the man who has deprived you of victims and thus has destroyed your world, and if you wish to know why you are perishing-you who dread knowledge-I am the man who will now tell you.”
The chief engineer was the only one able to move; he ran to a television set and struggled frantically with its dials. But the screen remained empty; the speaker had not chosen to be seen. Only his voice filled the airways of the country-of the world, thought the chief engineer-sounding as if he were speaking here, in this room, not to a group, but to one man; it was not the tone of addressing a meeting, but the tone of addressing a mind.
“You have heard it said that this is an age of moral crisis. You have said it yourself, half in fear, half in hope that the words had no meaning. You have cried that man’s sins are destroying the world and you have cursed human nature for its unwillingness to practice the virtues you demanded. Since virtue, to you, consists of sacrifice, you have demanded more sacrifices at every successive disaster. In the name of a return to morality, you have sacrificed all those evils which you held as the cause of your plight. You have sacrificed justice to mercy. You have sacrificed independence to unity. You have sacrificed reason to faith. You have sacrificed wealth to need. You have sacrificed self-esteem to self-denial. You have sacrificed happiness to duty.
“You have destroyed all that which you held to be evil and achieved all that which you held to be good. Why, then, do you shrink in horror from the sight of the world around you? That world is not the product of your sins, it is the product and the image of your virtues. It is your moral ideal brought into reality in its full and final perfection. You have fought for it, you have dreamed of it, and you have wished it, and I-I am the man who has granted you your wish.
“Your ideal had an implacable enemy, which your code of morality was designed to destroy. I have withdrawn that enemy. I have taken it out of your way and out of your reach. I have removed the source of all those evils you were sacrificing one by one. I have ended your battle. I have stopped your motor. I have deprived your world of man’s mind.
“Men do not live by the mind, you say? I have withdrawn those who do. The mind is impotent, you say? I have withdrawn those whose mind isn’t. There are values higher than the mind, you say? I have withdrawn those for whom there aren’t.
“While you were dragging to your sacrificial altars the men of justice, of independence, of reason, of wealth, of self-esteem-I beat you to it, I reached them first. I told them the nature of the game you were playing and the nature of that moral code of yours, which they had been too innocently generous to grasp. I showed them the way to live by another morality-mine. It is mine that they chose to follow.
“All the men who have vanished, the men you hated, yet dreaded to lose, it is I who have taken them away from you. Do not attempt to find us. We do not choose to be found. Do not cry that it is our duty to serve you. We do not recognize such duty. Do not cry that you need us. We do not consider need a claim. Do not cry that you own us. You don’t. Do not beg us to return. We are on strike, we, the men of the mind.
“We are on strike against self-immolation. We are on strike against the creed of unearned rewards and unrewarded duties. We are on strike against the dogma that the pursuit of one’s happiness is evil. We are on strike against the doctrine that life is guilt.
“There is a difference between our strike and all those you’ve practiced for centuries: our strike consists, not of making demands, but of granting them. We are evil, according to your morality. We have chosen not to harm you any longer. We are useless, according to your economics. We have chosen not to exploit you any longer. We are dangerous and to be shackled, according to your politics. We have chosen not to endanger you, nor to wear the shackles any longer. We are only an illusion, according to your philosophy. We have chosen not to blind you any longer and have left you free to face reality-the reality you wanted, the world as you see it now, a
“We have granted you everything you demanded of us, we who had always been the givers, but have only now understood it. We have no demands to present to you, no terms to bargain about, no compromise to reach. You have nothing to offer us. We do not need you.
“Are you now crying: No, this was not what you wanted? A mindless world of ruins was not your goal? You did not want us to leave you? You moral cannibals, I know that you’ve always known what it was that you wanted. But your game is up, because now we know it, too.
“Through centuries of scourges and disasters, brought about by your code of morality, you have cried that your code had been broken, that the scourges were punishment for breaking it, that men were too weak and too selfish to spill all the
“You wanted to know John Galt’s identity. I am the man who has asked that question.
“Yes, this is an age of moral crisis. Yes, you are bearing punishment for your evil. But it is not man who is now on trial and it is not human nature that will take the blame. It is your moral code that’s through, this time. Your moral code has reached its climax, the blind alley at the end of its course. And if you wish to go on living, what you now need is not to return to morality-you who have never known any-but to discover it.
“You have heard no concepts of morality but the mystical or the social. You have been taught that morality is a code of behavior imposed on you by whim, the whim of a supernatural power or the whim of society, to serve God’s purpose or your neighbor’s welfare, to please an authority beyond the grave or else next door-but not to serve your life or pleasure. Your pleasure, you have been taught, is to be found in immorality, your interests would best be served by evil, and any moral code must be designed not for you, but against you, not to further your life, but to drain it.
“For centuries, the battle of morality was fought between those who claimed that your life belongs to God and those who claimed that it belongs to your neighbors-between those who preached that the good is self-sacrifice for the sake of ghosts in heaven and those who preached that the good is self-sacrifice for the sake of incompetents on earth. And no one came
“Both sides agreed that morality demands the surrender of your self-interest and
* ScheduleSlip:
** JO's "Digimon Month", a month of reviews of
“Whatever else they fought about, it was against man’s mind that all your moralists have stood united. It was man’s mind that all their schemes and systems were intended to
“Man’s mind is his basic tool of survival. Life is given to him, survival is not. His body is given to him, its sustenance is not. His mind is given to him, its content is not. To remain alive, he must act, and before he can act he must know the nature and purpose of his action. He cannot obtain his food without a knowledge of food and of the way to obtain it. He cannot dig a ditch-or build a cyclotron-without a knowledge of his aim and of the means to achieve it. To remain alive, he must think.
“But to think is an act of choice. The
“A being of volitional consciousness has no automatic course of behavior. He needs a code of values to guide his actions. ‘Value’ is that which one acts to gain and keep, ‘virtue’ is the action by which one gains and keeps it. ‘Value’ presupposes an answer to the question: of value to whom and for what? ‘Value’ presupposes a standard, a purpose and the necessity of action in the face of an alternative. Where there are no alternatives, no values are possible.
“There is only
“A plant must feed itself in order to live; the sunlight, the water, the chemicals it needs are the values its nature has set it to pursue; its life is the standard of value directing its actions. But a plant has no choice of action; there are alternatives in the conditions it encounters, but there is no alternative in its function: it acts automatically to further its life, it cannot act for its own destruction.
“An animal is equipped for sustaining its life; its senses provide it with an automatic code of action, an automatic knowledge of what is good for it or evil. It has no power to extend its knowledge or to evade it. In conditions where its knowledge proves inadequate, it dies. But so long as it lives, it acts on its knowledge, with automatic safety and no power of choice, it is unable to ignore its own good, unable to decide to choose the evil and act as its own destroyer.
“Man has no automatic code of survival. His particular distinction from all other living species is the necessity to act in the face of alternatives by means of volitional choice. He has no automatic knowledge of what is good for him or evil, what values his life depends on, what course of action it requires. Are you prattling about
“A living entity that regarded its means of survival as evil, would not survive. A plant that struggled to mangle its roots, a bird that fought to break its wings would not remain for long in the existence they affronted. But the history of man has been a struggle to deny and to destroy his mind.
“Man has been called a rational being, but rationality is a matter of choice-and the alternative his nature offers him is: rational being or suicidal animal. Man has to be man-by choice; he has to hold his life as a value-by choice: he has to learn to sustain it-by choice; he has to discover the values it requires and practice his virtues-by choice.
“A code of values accepted by choice is a code of morality.
“Whoever you are, you who are hearing me now, I am speaking to whatever living remnant is left uncorrupted within you, to the remnant of the human, to your mind, and I say: There is a morality of reason, a morality proper to man, and Man’s Life is its standard of value.
“All that which is proper to the life of a rational being is the good; all that which destroys it is the evil.
“Man’s life, as required by his nature, is not the life of a mindless brute, of a looting thug or a mooching mystic, but the life of a thinking being-not life by means of force or fraud, but life by means of achievement-not survival at any price, since there’s only one price that pays for man’s survival: reason.
“Man’s life is the standard of morality, but your own life is its purpose. If existence on earth is your goal, you must choose your actions and values by the standard of that which is proper to man-for the purpose of preserving, fulfilling and enjoying the irreplaceable value which is your life.
“Since life requires a specific course of action, any other course will destroy it. A being who does not hold his own life as the motive and goal of his actions, is acting on the motive and standard of death. Such a being is a metaphysical monstrosity, struggling to oppose, negate and contradict the fact of his own existence, running blindly amuck on a trail of destruction, capable of nothing but pain.
“Happiness is the successful state of life, pain is an agent of death. Happiness is that state of consciousness which proceeds from the achievement of one’s values. A morality that dares to tell you to find happiness in the renunciation of your happiness-to value the failure of your values-is an insolent negation of morality. A doctrine that gives you, as an ideal, the role of a sacrificial animal seeking slaughter on the altars of others, is giving you death as your standard. By the grace of reality and the nature of life, man-every man-is an end in himself, he exists for his own sake, and the achievement of his own happiness is his highest moral purpose.
“But neither life nor happiness can be achieved by the pursuit of irrational whims. Just as man is free to attempt to survive in any random manner, but will perish unless he lives as his nature requires, so he is free to seek his happiness in any mindless fraud, but the torture of frustration is all he will find, unless he seeks the happiness proper to man. The purpose of morality is to teach you, not to suffer and die, but to enjoy yourself and live.
“Sweep aside those parasites of subsidized classrooms, who live on the profits of the mind of others and proclaim that man needs no morality, no values, no code of behavior. They, who pose as scientists and claim that man is only an animal, do not grant him inclusion in the law of existence they have granted to the lowest of insects. They recognize that every living species has a way of survival demanded by its nature, they do not claim that a fish can live out of water or that a dog can live without its sense of smell-but man, they claim, the most complex of beings, man can survive in any way whatever, man has no identity, no nature, and there’s no practical reason why he cannot live with his means of survival destroyed, with his mind throttled and placed at the disposal of any orders they might care to issue.
“Sweep aside those hatred-eaten mystics, who pose as friends of humanity and preach that the highest virtue man can practice is to hold his own life as of no value. Do they tell you that the purpose of morality is to curb man’s instinct of self-preservation? It is for the purpose of self-preservation that man needs a code of morality. The only man who desires to be moral is the man who desires to live.
“No, you do not have to live; it is your basic act of choice; but if you choose to live,. you must live as a man-by the work and the judgment of your mind.
“No, you do not have to live as a man; it is an act of moral choice. But you cannot live as anything else-and the alternative is that state of living death which you now see within you and around you, the state of a thing unfit for existence, no longer human and less than animal, a thing that knows nothing but pain and drags itself through its span of years in the agony of unthinking self-destruction.
“No, you do not have to think; it is an act of moral choice. But someone had to think to keep you alive; if you choose to default, you default on existence and you pass the deficit to some moral man, expecting him to sacrifice his good for the sake of letting you survive by your evil.
“No, you do not have to be a man; but today those who are, are not there any longer. I have removed your means of survival-your victims.
“If you wish to know how I have done it and what I told them to make them quit, you are hearing it now. I told them, in essence, the statement I am making tonight. They were men who had lived by my code, but had not known how great a virtue it represented. I made them see it. I brought them, not a re-evaluation, but only an identification of their values.
“We, the men of the mind, are now on strike against you in the name of a single axiom, which is the root of our moral code, just as the root of yours is the wish to escape it: the axiom that existence exists.
“Existence exists-and the act of grasping that statement implies two corollary axioms: that something exists which one perceives and that one exists possessing consciousness, consciousness being the faculty of perceiving that which exists.
“If nothing exists, there can be no consciousness: a consciousness with nothing to be conscious of is a contradiction in terms. A consciousness conscious of nothing but itself is a contradiction in terms: before it could identify itself as consciousness, it had to be conscious of something. If that which you claim to perceive does not exist, what you possess is not consciousness.
“Whatever the degree of your knowledge, these two-existence and consciousness-are axioms you cannot escape, these two are the irreducible primaries implied in any action you undertake, in any part of your knowledge and in its sum, from the first
“To exist is to be
“Whatever you choose to consider, be it an object, an attribute or an action, the law of identity remains the same. A leaf cannot be a stone at the same time, it cannot be all red and all green at the same time, it cannot freeze and burn at the same time. A is A. Or, if you wish it stated in simpler language: You cannot have your cake and eat it, too.
“Are you seeking to know what is wrong with the world? All the disasters that have wrecked your world, came from your leaders’ attempt to evade the fact that A is A. All the secret evil you dread to face within you and all the pain you have ever endured, came from your own attempt to evade the fact that A is A. The purpose of those who taught you to evade it, was to make you forget that Man is Man.
“Man cannot survive except by gaining knowledge, and reason is his only means to gain it. Reason is the faculty that perceives, identifies and integrates the material provided by his senses. The task of his senses is to give him the evidence of existence, but the task of identifying it belongs to his reason, his senses tell him only that something is, but what it is must be learned by his mind.
“All thinking is a process of identification and integration. Man perceives a blob of color; by integrating the evidence of his sight and his touch, he learns to identify it as a solid object; he learns to identify the object as a table; he learns that the table is made of wood; he learns that the wood consists of cells, that the cells consist of molecules, that the molecules consist of atoms. All through this process, the work of his mind consists of answers to a single question: What is it? His means to establish the truth of his answers is logic, and logic rests on the axiom that existence exists. Logic is the art of non-contradictory identification. A contradiction cannot exist. An atom is itself, and so is the universe; neither can contradict its own identity; nor can a part contradict the whole. No concept man forms is valid unless he integrates it without contradiction into the total sum of his knowledge. To arrive at a contradiction is to confess an error in one’s thinking; to maintain a contradiction is to abdicate one’s mind and to evict oneself from the realm of reality.
"EVEN this must have a preface- that is, a literary preface," laughed Ivan, "and I am a poor hand at making one. You see, my action takes place in the sixteenth century, and at that time, as you probably learnt at school, it was customary in poetry to bring down heavenly powers on earth. Not to speak of Dante, in France, clerks, as well as the monks in the monasteries, used to give regular performances in which the Madonna, the saints, the angels, Christ, and God Himself were brought on the stage. In those days it was done in all simplicity. In Victor Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris an edifying and gratuitous spectacle was provided for the people in the Hotel de Ville of Paris in the reign of Louis XI in honour of the birth of the dauphin. It was called Le bon jugement de la tres sainte et gracieuse Vierge Marie, and she appears herself on the stage and pronounces her bon jugement. Similar plays, chiefly from the Old Testament, were occasionally performed in Moscow too, up to the times of Peter the Great. But besides plays there were all sorts of legends and ballads scattered about the world, in which the saints and angels and all the powers of Heaven took part when required. In our monasteries the monks busied themselves in translating, copying, and even composing such poems- and even under the Tatars. There is, for instance, one such poem (of course, from the Greek), The Wanderings of Our Lady through Hell, with descriptions as bold as Dante's. Our Lady visits hell, and the Archangel Michael leads her through the torments. She sees the sinners and their punishment. There she sees among others one noteworthy set of sinners in a burning lake; some of them sink to the bottom of the lake so that they can't swim out, and 'these God forgets'- an expression of extraordinary depth and force. And so Our Lady, shocked and weeping, falls before the throne of God and begs for mercy for all in hell- for all she has seen there, indiscriminately. Her conversation with God is immensely interesting. She beseeches Him, she will not desist, and when God points to the hands and feet of her Son, nailed to the Cross, and asks, 'How can I forgive His tormentors?' she bids all the saints, all the martyrs, all the angels and archangels to fall down with her and pray for mercy on all without distinction. It ends by her winning from God a respite of suffering every year from Good Friday till Trinity Day, and the sinners at once raise a cry of thankfulness from hell, chanting, 'Thou art just, O Lord, in this judgment.' Well, my poem would have been of that kind if it had appeared at that time. He comes on the scene in my poem, but He says nothing, only appears and passes on. Fifteen centuries have passed since He promised to come in His glory, fifteen centuries since His prophet wrote, 'Behold, I come quickly'; 'Of that day and that hour knoweth no man, neither the Son, but the Father,' as He Himself predicted on earth. But humanity awaits him with the same faith and with the same love. Oh, with greater faith, for it is fifteen centuries since man has ceased to see signs from heaven.
No signs from heaven come to-day To add to what the heart doth say.
There was nothing left but faith in what the heart doth say. It is true there were many miracles in those days. There were saints who performed miraculous cures; some holy people, according to their biographies, were visited by the Queen of Heaven herself. But the devil did not slumber, and doubts were already arising among men of the truth of these miracles. And just then there appeared in the north of Germany a terrible new heresy. 'A huge star like to a torch' (that is, to a church) 'fell on the sources of the waters and they became bitter.' These heretics began blasphemously denying miracles. But those who remained faithful were all the more ardent in their faith. The tears of humanity rose up to Him as before, awaited His coming, loved Him, hoped for Him, yearned to suffer and die for Him as before. And so many ages mankind had prayed with faith and fervour, 'O Lord our God, hasten Thy coming'; so many ages called upon Him, that in His infinite mercy He deigned to come down to His servants. Before that day He had come down, He had visited some holy men, martyrs, and hermits, as is written in their lives. Among us, Tyutchev, with absolute faith in the truth of his words, bore witness that
Bearing the Cross, in slavish dress, Weary and worn, the Heavenly King Our mother, Russia, came to bless, And through our land went wandering.
And that certainly was so, I assure you.
"And behold, He deigned to appear for a moment to the people, to the tortured, suffering people, sunk in iniquity, but loving Him like children. My story is laid in Spain, in Seville, in the most terrible time of the Inquisition, when fires were lighted every day to the glory of God, and 'in the splendid auto da fe the wicked heretics were burnt.' Oh, of course, this was not the coming in which He will appear, according to His promise, at the end of time in all His heavenly glory, and which will be sudden 'as lightning flashing from east to west.' No, He visited His children only for a moment, and there where the flames were crackling round the heretics. In His infinite mercy He came once more among men in that human shape in which He walked among men for thirty-three years fifteen centuries ago. He came down to the 'hot pavements' of the southern town in which on the day before almost a hundred heretics had, ad majorem gloriam Dei, been burnt by the cardinal, the Grand Inquisitor, in a magnificent auto da fe, in the presence of the king, the court, the knights, the cardinals, the most charming ladies of the court, and the whole population of Seville.
"He came softly, unobserved, and yet, strange to say, everyone [[ZettaiRyouki recognised Him]]. That might be one of the best passages in the poem. I mean, why they recognised Him. The people are irresistibly drawn to Him, they surround Him, they flock about Him, follow Him. He moves silently in their midst with a gentle smile of infinite compassion. The sun of love burns in His heart, and power shine from His eyes, and their radiance, shed on the people, stirs their hearts with responsive love. He holds out His hands to them, blesses them, and a healing virtue comes from contact with Him, even with His garments. An old man in the crowd, blind from childhood, cries out, 'O Lord, heal me and I shall see Thee!' and, as it were, scales fall from his eyes and the blind man sees Him. The crowd weeps and kisses the earth under His feet. Children throw flowers before Him, sing, and cry hosannah. 'It is He- it is He!' repeat. 'It must be He, it can be no one but Him!' He stops at the steps of the Seville cathedral at the moment when the weeping mourners are bringing in a little open white coffin. In it lies a child of seven, the only daughter of a prominent citizen. The dead child lies hidden in flowers. 'He will raise your child,' the crowd shouts to the weeping mother. The priest, coming to meet the coffin, looks perplexed, and frowns, but the mother of the dead child throws herself at His feet with a wail. 'If it is Thou, raise my child!' she cries, holding out her hands to Him. The procession halts, the coffin is laid on the steps at His feet. He looks with compassion, and His lips once more softly pronounce, 'Maiden, arise!' and the maiden arises. The little girl sits up in the coffin and looks round, smiling with wide-open wondering eyes, holding a bunch of white roses they had put in her hand.
"There are cries, sobs, confusion among the people, and at that moment the cardinal himself, the Grand Inquisitor, passes by the cathedral. He is an old man, almost ninety, tall and erect, with a withered face and sunken eyes, in which there is still a gleam of light. He is not dressed in his gorgeous cardinal's robes, as he was the day before, when he was burning the enemies of the Roman Church- at this moment he is wearing his coarse, old, monk's cassock. At a distance behind him come his gloomy assistants and slaves and the 'holy guard.' He stops at the sight of the crowd and watches it from a distance. He sees everything; he sees them set the coffin down at His feet, sees the child rise up, and his face darkens. He knits his thick grey brows and his eyes gleam with a sinister fire. He holds out his finger and bids the guards take Him. And such is his power, so completely are the people cowed into submission and trembling obedience to him, that the crowd immediately makes way for the guards, and in the midst of deathlike silence they lay hands on Him and lead him away. The crowd instantly bows down to the earth, like one man, before the old Inquisitor. He blesses the people in silence and passes on' The guards lead their prisoner to the close, gloomy vaulted prison- in the ancient palace of the Holy, inquisition and shut him in it. The day passes and is followed by
"'Is it Thou? Thou?' but receiving no answer, he adds at once. 'Don't answer, be silent. What canst Thou say, indeed? I know too well what Thou wouldst say. And Thou hast no right to add anything to what Thou hadst said of old. Why, then, art Thou come to hinder us? For Thou hast come to hinder us, and Thou knowest that. But dost thou know what will be to-morrow? I know not who Thou art and care not to know whether it is Thou or only a semblance of Him, but to-morrow I shall condemn Thee and burn Thee at the stake as the worst of heretics. And the very people who have to-day kissed Thy feet, to-morrow at the faintest sign from me will rush to heap up the embers of Thy fire. Knowest Thou that? Yes, maybe Thou knowest it,' he added with thoughtful penetration, never for a moment taking his eyes off the Prisoner."
"I don't quite understand, Ivan. What does it mean?" Alyosha, who had been listening in silence[[Anime/FullmetalAlchemist , said with a smile]]. "Is it simply a wild fantasy, or a mistake on the part
"Take it as the last," said Ivan, laughing, "if you are so corrupted by modern realism and can't stand anything fantastic. If you like it to be a case of mistaken identity, let it be so. It is true," he went on, laughing, "the old man was ninety, and he might well be crazy over his set idea. He might have been struck by the appearance of the Prisoner. It might, in fact, be simply his ravings, the delusion of an old man of ninety, over-excited by the auto da fe of a hundred heretics the day before. But does it matter to us after all whether it was a mistake of identity or a wild fantasy? All that matters is that the old man should speak out, that he should speak openly of what he has thought in silence for ninety years."
"And the Prisoner too is silent? Does He look at him and not say a word?"
"That's inevitable in any case," Ivan laughed again. "The old man has told Him He hasn't the right to add anything to what He has said of old. One may say it is the most fundamental feature of Roman Catholicism, in my opinion at least. 'All has been given by Thee to the Pope,' they say, 'and all, therefore, is still in the Pope's hands, and there is no need for Thee to come now at all. Thou must not meddle for the time, at least.' That's how they speak and write too- the Jesuits, at any rate. I have read it myself in the works of their theologians. 'Hast Thou the right to reveal to us one of the mysteries of that world from which Thou hast come?' my old man asks Him, and answers the question for Him. 'No, Thou hast not; that Thou mayest not add to what has been said of old, and mayest not take from men the freedom which Thou didst exalt when Thou wast on earth. Whatsoever Thou revealest anew will encroach on men's freedom of faith; for it will be manifest as a miracle, and the freedom of their faith was dearer to Thee than anything in those days fifteen hundred years ago. Didst Thou not often say then, "I will make you free"? But now Thou hast seen these "free" men,' the old man adds suddenly, with a pensive smile. 'Yes, we've paid dearly for it,' he goes on, looking sternly at Him, 'but at last we have completed that work in Thy name. For fifteen centuries we have been wrestling with Thy freedom, but now it is ended and over for good. Dost Thou not believe that it's over for good? Thou lookest meekly at me and deignest not even to be wroth with me. But let me tell Thee that now, to-day, people are more persuaded than ever that they have perfect freedom, yet they have brought their freedom to us and laid it humbly at our feet. But that has been our doing. Was this what Thou didst? Was this Thy freedom?'"
"I don't understand again." Alyosha broke in. "Is he ironical, is he jesting?"
"Not a bit of it! He claims it as a merit for himself and his Church that at last they have vanquished freedom and have done so to make men happy. 'For now' (he is speaking of the Inquisition, of course) 'for the first time
"And what's the meaning of 'no lack of admonitions and warnings'?" asked Alyosha.
"Why, that's the chief part of what the old man must say.
"'The wise and dread spirit, the spirit of self-destruction and non-existence,' the old man goes on, great spirit talked with Thee in the wilderness, and we are told in the books that he "tempted" Thee. Is that so? And could anything truer be said than what he revealed to Thee in three questions and what Thou didst reject, and what in the books is called "the temptation"? And yet if there has ever been on earth a real stupendous miracle, it took place on that day, on the day of the three temptations. The statement of those three questions was itself the miracle. If it were possible to imagine simply for the sake of argument that those three questions of the dread spirit had perished utterly from the books, and that we had to restore them and to invent them anew, and to do so had gathered together all the wise men of the earth- rulers, chief priests, learned men, philosophers, poets- and had set them the task to invent three questions, such as would not only fit the occasion, but express in three words, three human phrases, the whole future history of the world and of humanity- dost Thou believe that all the wisdom of the earth united could have invented anything in depth and force equal to the three questions which were actually put to Thee then by the wise and mighty spirit in the wilderness? From those questions alone, from the miracle of their statement, we can see that we have here to do not with the
"Judge Thyself who was right- Thou or he who questioned Thee then? Remember the first question; its meaning, in other words, was this: "Thou wouldst go into the world, and art going with empty hands, with some promise of freedom which men in their simplicity and their natural unruliness cannot even understand, which they fear and dread- for nothing has ever been more insupportable for a man and a human society than freedom. But seest Thou these stones in this parched and barren wilderness? Turn them into bread, and mankind will run after Thee like a flock of sheep, grateful and obedient, though for ever trembling, lest Thou withdraw Thy hand and deny them Thy bread." But Thou wouldst not deprive man of freedom and didst reject the offer, thinking, what is that freedom worth if obedience is bought with bread? Thou didst reply that man lives not by bread alone. But dost Thou know that for the sake of that earthly bread the spirit of the
"'This is the significance of the first question in the wilderness, and this is what Thou hast rejected for the sake of that freedom which Thou hast exalted above everything. Yet in this question lies hid the great secret of this world. Choosing "bread," Thou wouldst have satisfied the universal and everlasting craving of humanity- to find someone to worship. So long as man remains free he strives for nothing so incessantly and so painfully as to find someone to worship. But man seeks to worship what is established beyond dispute, so that all men would agree at once to worship it. For these pitiful creatures are concerned not only to find what one or the other can worship, but to find community of worship is the chief misery of every man individually and of all humanity from the beginning of time. For the sake of common worship they've slain each other with the sword. They have set up gods and challenged one another, "Put away your gods and come and worship ours, or we will kill you and your gods!" And so it will be to the end of the world, even when gods disappear from the earth; they will fall down before idols just the same. Thou didst know, Thou couldst not but have known, this fundamental secret of human nature, but Thou didst reject the one infallible banner which was offered Thee to make all men bow down to Thee alone- the banner of earthly bread; and Thou hast rejected it for the sake of freedom and the bread of Heaven. Behold what Thou didst further. And all again in the name of freedom! I tell Thee that man is tormented by no greater anxiety than to find someone quickly to whom he can hand over that gift of freedom with which the ill-fated creature is born. But only one who can appease their conscience can take over their freedom. In bread there was offered Thee an invincible banner; give bread, and man will worship thee, for nothing is more certain than bread. But if someone else gains possession of his conscience- Oh! then he will cast away Thy bread and follow after him who has ensnared his conscience. In that Thou wast right. For the secret of man's being is not only to live but to have something to live for. Without a stable conception of the object of life, man would not consent to go on living, and would rather destroy himself than remain on earth, though he had bread in abundance. That is true. But what happened? Instead of taking men's freedom from them, Thou didst make it greater than ever! Didst Thou forget that man prefers peace, and even death, to freedom of choice in the knowledge of good and evil? Nothing is more seductive for man than his freedom of conscience, but nothing is a greater cause of suffering. And behold, instead of giving a firm foundation for setting the conscience of man at rest for ever, Thou didst choose all that is exceptional, vague and enigmatic; Thou didst choose what was utterly beyond the strength of men, acting as though Thou didst not love them at all- Thou who didst come to give Thy life for them! Instead of taking possession of men's freedom, Thou didst increase it, and burdened the spiritual kingdom of mankind with its sufferings for ever. Thou didst desire man's free love, that he should follow Thee freely, enticed and taken captive by Thee. In place of the rigid ancient law, man must hereafter with free heart decide for himself what is good and what is evil, having only Thy image before him as his guide. But didst Thou not know that he would at last reject even Thy image and Thy truth, if he is weighed down with the fearful burden of free choice? They will cry aloud at last that the truth is not in Thee, for they could not have been left
** She recently stated
"'So that, in truth, Thou didst Thyself lay the foundation for the destruction of Thy kingdom, and no one is more to blame for it. Yet what was offered Thee? There are three powers, three powers alone, able to conquer and to hold captive for ever the conscience of these impotent rebels for their happiness those forces are miracle, mystery and authority. Thou hast rejected all three and hast set the example for doing so. When the wise and dread spirit set Thee on
"'Receiving bread from us, they will see clearly that we take the bread made by their hands from them, to give it to them, without any miracle. They will see that we do not change the stones to bread, but in truth they will be more thankful for taking it from our hands than for the bread itself! For they will remember only too well that in old days, without our help, even the bread they made turned to stones in their hands, while since they have come back to us, the very stones have turned to bread in their hands. Too, too well will they know the value of complete submission! And until men know that, they will be unhappy. Who is most to blame for their not knowing it?-speak! Who scattered the flock and sent it astray on unknown paths? But the flock will come together again and will submit once more, and then it will be once for all. Then we shall give them the quiet humble happiness of weak creatures such as they are by nature. Oh, we shall persuade them at last not to be proud, for Thou didst lift them up and thereby taught them to be proud. We shall show them that they are weak, that they are only pitiful children, but that childlike happiness is the sweetest of all. They will become timid and will look to us and huddle close to us in fear, as chicks to the hen. They will marvel at us and will be awe-stricken before us, and will be proud at our being so powerful and clever that we have been able to subdue such a turbulent flock of thousands of millions. They will tremble impotently before our wrath, their minds will grow fearful, they will be quick to shed tears like women and children, but they will be just as ready at a sign from us to pass to laughter and rejoicing, to happy mirth and childish song. Yes, we shall set them to work, but in their leisure hours we shall make their life like a child's game, with children's songs and innocent dance. Oh, we shall allow them even sin, they are weak and helpless, and they will love us like children because we allow them to sin. We shall tell them that every sin will be expiated, if it is done with our permission, that we allow them to sin because we love them, and the punishment for these sins we take upon ourselves. And we shall take it upon ourselves, and they will adore us as their saviours who have taken on themselves their sins before God. And they will have no secrets from us. We shall allow or forbid them to live with their wives and mistresses, to have or not to have children according to whether they have been obedient or disobedient- and they will submit to us gladly and cheerfully. The most painful secrets of their conscience, all, all they will bring to us, and we shall have an answer for all. And they will be glad to believe our answer, for it will save them from the great anxiety and terrible agony they endure at present in making a free decision for themselves. And all will be happy, all the millions of creatures except the hundred thousand who rule over them. For only we, we who guard the mystery, shall be unhappy. There will be thousands of millions of happy babes, and a hundred thousand sufferers who have taken upon themselves the curse of the knowledge of good and evil. Peacefully they will die, peacefully they will expire in Thy name, and beyond the grave they will find nothing but death. But we shall keep the secret, and for their happiness we shall allure them with the reward of heaven and eternity. Though if there were anything in the other world, it certainly would not be for such as they. It is prophesied that Thou wilt come again in victory, Thou wilt come with Thy chosen, the proud and strong, but we will say that they have only saved themselves, but we have saved all. We are told that the harlot who sits upon the beast, and holds in her hands the mystery, shall be put to shame, that the weak will rise up again, and will rend her royal purple and will strip naked her loathsome body. But then I will stand up and point out to Thee the thousand millions of happy children who have known no sin. And we who have taken their sins upon us for their happiness will stand up before Thee and say: "Judge us if Thou canst and darest." Know that I fear Thee not. Know that I too have been in the wilderness, I too have lived on roots and locusts, I too prized the freedom with which Thou hast blessed men, and I too was striving to stand among Thy elect, among the strong and powerful, thirsting "to make up the number." But I awakened and would not serve madness. I turned back and joined the ranks of those who have corrected Thy work. I left the proud and went back to the humble, for the happiness of the humble. What I say to Thee will come to pass, and our dominion will be built up. I repeat, to-morrow Thou shalt see that obedient flock who at a sign from me will hasten to heap up the hot cinders about the pile on which I shall burn Thee for coming to hinder us. For if anyone has ever deserved our fires, it is Thou. To-morrow I shall burn Thee. Dixi.'"*
* I have spoken.
Ivan stopped. He was carried away as he talked, and spoke with excitement; when he had finished, he suddenly smiled.
Alyosha had listened in silence; towards the end he was greatly moved and seemed several times on the point of interrupting, but restrained himself. Now his words came with a rush.
"But... that's absurd!" he cried, flushing. "Your poem is in praise of Jesus, not in blame of Him- as you meant it to be. And who will believe you about freedom? Is that the way to understand it? That's not the idea of it in the Orthodox Church.... That's Rome, and not even the whole of Rome, it's false-those are the worst of the Catholics the Inquisitors, the Jesuits!... And there could not be such a fantastic creature as your Inquisitor. What are these sins of mankind they take on themselves? Who are these keepers of the mystery who have taken some curse upon themselves for the happiness of mankind? When have they been seen? We know the Jesuits, they are spoken ill of, but surely they are not what you describe? They are not that at all, not at all.... They are simply the Romish army for the earthly sovereignty of the world in the future, with the Pontiff of Rome for Emperor... that's their ideal, but there's no sort of mystery or lofty melancholy about it.... It's simple lust of power, of filthy earthly gain, of domination-something like a universal serfdom with them as masters-that's all they stand for. They don't even believe in God perhaps. Your suffering Inquisitor is a mere fantasy."
"Stay, stay," laughed Ivan. "how hot you are! A fantasy you say, let it be so! Of course it's a fantasy. But allow me to say: do you really think that the Roman Catholic movement of the last centuries is actually nothing but the lust of power, of filthy earthly gain? Is that Father Paissy's teaching?"
"No, no, on the contrary, Father Paissy did once say something rather the same as you... but of course it's not the same, not a bit the same," Alyosha hastily corrected himself.
"A precious admission, in spite of your 'not a bit the same.' I ask you why your Jesuits and Inquisitors have united simply for vile material gain? Why can there not be among them one martyr oppressed by great sorrow and loving humanity? You see, only suppose that there was one such man among all those who desire nothing but filthy material gain-if there's only one like my old Inquisitor, who had himself eaten roots in the desert and made frenzied efforts to subdue his flesh to make himself free and perfect. But yet all his life he loved humanity, and suddenly his eyes were opened, and he saw that it is no great moral blessedness to attain perfection and freedom, if at the same time one gains the conviction that millions of God's creatures have been created as a mockery, that they will never be capable of using their freedom, that these poor rebels can never turn into giants to complete the tower, that it was not for such geese that the great idealist dreamt his dream of harmony. Seeing all that he turned back and joined- the clever people. Surely that could have happened?"
"Joined whom, what clever people?" cried Alyosha, completely carried away. "They have no such great cleverness and no mysteries and secrets.... Perhaps nothing but Atheism, that's all their secret. Your Inquisitor does not believe in God, that's his secret!"
"What if it is so! At last you have guessed it. It's perfectly true, it's true that that's the whole secret, but isn't that suffering, at least for a man like that, who has wasted his whole life in the desert and yet could not shake off his incurable love of humanity? In his old age he reached the clear conviction that nothing but the advice of the great dread spirit could build up any tolerable sort of life for the feeble, unruly, 'incomplete, empirical creatures created in jest.' And so, convinced of this, he sees that he must follow the counsel of the wise spirit, the dread spirit of death and destruction, and therefore accept lying and deception, and lead men consciously to death and destruction, and yet deceive them all the way so that they may not notice where they are being led, that the poor blind creatures may at least on the way think themselves happy. And note, the deception is in the name of Him in Whose ideal the old man had so fervently believed all his life long. Is not that tragic? And if only one such stood at the head of the whole army 'filled with the lust of power only for the sake of filthy gain'- would not one such be enough to make a tragedy? More than that, one such standing at the head is enough to create the actual leading idea of the Roman Church with all its armies and Jesuits, its highest idea. I tell you frankly that I firmly believe that there has always been such a man among those who stood at the head of the movement. Who knows, there may have been some such even among the Roman Popes. Who knows, perhaps the spirit of that accursed old man who loves mankind so obstinately in his own way, is to be found even now in a whole multitude of such old men, existing not by chance but by agreement, as a secret league formed long ago for the guarding of the mystery, to guard it from the weak and the unhappy, so as to make them happy. No doubt it is so, and so it must be indeed. I fancy that even among the Masons there's something of the same mystery at the bottom, and that that's why the Catholics so detest the Masons as their rivals breaking up the unity of the idea, while it is so essential that there should be one flock and one shepherd.... But from the way I defend my idea I might be an author impatient of your criticism. Enough of it."
"You are perhaps a Mason yourself!" broke suddenly from Alyosha. "You don't believe in God," he added, speaking this time very sorrowfully. He fancied besides that his brother was looking at him ironically. "How does your poem end?" he asked, suddenly looking down. "Or was it the end?"
"I meant to end it like this. When the Inquisitor ceased speaking he waited some time for his Prisoner to answer him. His silence weighed down upon him. He saw that the Prisoner had listened intently all the time, looking gently in his face and evidently not wishing to reply. The old man longed for him to say something, however bitter and terrible. But He suddenly approached the old man in silence and softly kissed him on his bloodless aged lips. That was all his answer. The old man shuddered. His lips moved. He went to the door, opened it, and said to Him: 'Go, and come no more... come not at all, never, never!' And he let Him out into the dark alleys of the town. The Prisoner went away."
"And the old man?"
"The kiss glows in his heart, but the old man adheres to his idea."
"And you with him, you too?" cried Alyosha, mournfully.
Ivan laughed.
"Why, it's all nonsense, Alyosha. It's only a senseless poem of a senseless student, who could never write two lines of verse. Why do you take it so seriously? Surely you don't suppose I am going straight off to the Jesuits, to join the men who are correcting His work? Good Lord, it's no business of mine. I told you, all I want is to live on to thirty, and then... dash the cup to the ground!"
"But the little sticky leaves, and the precious tombs, and the blue sky, and the woman you love! How will you live, how will you love them?" Alyosha cried sorrowfully. "With such a hell in your heart and your head, how can you? No, that's just what you are going away for, to join them... if not, you will kill yourself, you can't endure it!"
"There is a strength to endure everything," Ivan said with a cold smile.
"The strength of the Karamazovs- the strength of the Karamazov baseness."
"To sink into debauchery, to stifle your soul with corruption, yes?"
"Possibly even that... only perhaps till I am thirty I shall escape it, and then-"
"How will you escape it? By what will you escape it? That's impossible with your ideas."
"In the Karamazov way, again."
"'Everything is lawful,' you mean? Everything is lawful, is that it?"
Ivan scowled, and all at once turned strangely pale.
"Ah, you've caught up yesterday's phrase, which so offended Muisov- and which Dmitri pounced upon so naively and paraphrased!" he smiled queerly. "Yes, if you like, 'everything is lawful' since the word has been said, I won't deny it. And Mitya's version isn't bad."
Alyosha looked at him in silence.
"I thought that going away from here I have you at least," Ivan said suddenly, with unexpected feeling; "but now I see that there is no place for me even in your heart, my dear hermit. The formula, 'all is lawful,' I won't renounce- will you renounce me for that, yes?"
Alyosha got up, went to him and softly kissed him on the lips.
"That's plagiarism," cried Ivan, highly delighted. "You stole that from my poem. Thank you though. Get up, Alyosha, it's time we were going, both of us."
They went out, but stopped when they reached the entrance of the restaurant.
"Listen, Alyosha," Ivan began in a resolute voice, "if I am really able to care for the sticky little leaves I shall only love them, remembering you. It's enough for me that you are somewhere here, and I shan't lose my desire for life yet. Is that enough for you? Take it as a declaration of love if you like. And now you go to the right and I to the left. And it's enough, do you hear, enough. I mean even if I don't go away to-morrow (I think I certainly shall go) and we meet again, don't say a word more on these subjects. I beg that particularly. And about Dmitri too, I ask you specially, never speak to me again," he added, with sudden irritation; "it's all exhausted, it has all been said over and over again, hasn't it? And I'll make you one promise in return for it. When at thirty, I want to 'dash the cup to the ground,' wherever I may be I'll come to have one more talk with you, even though it were from America, you may be sure of that. I'll come on purpose. It will be very interesting to have a look at you, to see what you'll be by that time. It's rather a solemn promise, you see. And we really may be parting for seven years or ten. Come, go now to your Pater Seraphicus, he is dying. If he dies without you, you will be angry with me for having kept you. Good-bye, kiss me once more; that's right, now go."
Ivan turned suddenly and went his way without looking back. It was just as Dmitri had left Alyosha the day before, though the parting had been very different. The strange resemblance flashed like an arrow through Alyosha's mind in the distress and dejection of that moment. He waited a little, looking after his brother. He suddenly noticed that Ivan swayed as he walked and that his right shoulder looked lower than his left. He had never noticed it before. But all at once he turned too, and almost ran to the monastery. It was nearly dark, and he felt almost frightened; something new was growing up in him for which he could not account. The wind had risen again as on the previous evening, and the ancient pines murmured gloomily about him when he entered the hermitage copse. He almost ran. "Pater Seraphicus- he got that name from somewhere- where from?" Alyosha wondered. "Ivan, poor Ivan, and when shall I see you again?... Here is the hermitage. Yes, yes, that he is, Pater Seraphicus, he will save me- from him and for ever!"
Several times afterwards he wondered how he could, on leaving Ivan, so completely forget his brother Dmitri, though he had that morning, only a few hours before, so firmly resolved to find him and not to give up doing so, even should he be unable to return to the monastery that night.
It was difficult to pinpoint the catalyst that had allowed for this chaotic fray. Somewhere along whiskey shot one and three, the darkness and the tide, the deck of the schooner became little more than a battlefield against a sudden uprising of nature.
Edward's hand shot out to grapple for a hold on the taffrail, fingers scrambling for traction on the salt water slickened wood. As he caught hold, his body jerked to a halt from its forward plummet off the stern of the ship, and he slammed hard against the stern knocking the breath from his body. Choking, and muttering an expletive, Edward quickly reached up with his automail hand to grab the deck and he began to bodily haul himself up.
He nearly lost what progress he'd made when the schooner gave a shuddering jerk as a particularly nasty wave caught the hull. With the spray of the sea blinding him and making his grip tricky, he somehow managed to get himself onto the deck where he was promptly bounced several meters as another wave smashed into the stern. Rolling to a halt, Edward finally scrambled to his feet even as the schooner gave a shuddering jerk under him.
It was the smell of smoke on the air that warned of the explosion that had gone off near the keel. Accompanied by another rough lurch that sent several sailors tumbling across the deck, and some over the edge of the schooner.
Edward was forced to grab a hold of one of the many coils of rope mounted to the cabin of the boat in order to keep from being tossed about again himself. The rough rope snagged on his gloves, nearly tearing them from his hands and causing him to fall backwards. Somehow he managed to keep his feet and find his balance again.
"That can't have been good." Ed muttered darkly to himself as the schooner gave a groaning lurch, shuddered, and stopped.
The engine was out.
"Mister Elric, sir! We have to abandon ship!"
Edward looked over at the sailor. "I think you'd be right!" He shouted back over the roar of the ocean assaulting the slowly sinking vessel.
"Come on! The lifeboat!"
"I'll be there!" Ed called over, already heading for the door that would lead below deck. "I have to get my suitcase!"
The sailor stared after him, aghast. "There's no time! Mister Elric!"
But Ed was already gone.
Edward bounced off the walls around the staircase as the schooner careened violently side to side. The smoke from the explosion choked the air, and he put one gloved hand over his mouth, coughing. His eyes watered against the fumes, and water was slapping up against his legs. But he kept going. He couldn't afford to lose that suitcase!
Half-blind by smoke, and coughing almost constantly, Ed found his way back to the small cabin he'd been given for the duration of the journey. The door was hanging on its hinges, creaking ominously as it swayed with the current of the knee deep water.
Stumbling through the door, Edward quickly located the suitcase, floating on top of the water. Without a moment to waste, he sloshed towards it, and seized it up with a relieved sigh. Turning, he hurried back towards the door even as the water reached his waist.
He stumbled his way back up the stairs, having a difficult time maintaining his balance as the schooner tipped so far to the left that he was afraid it would flip. But he refused to give up now, and he made it onto the deck again.
Quickly, he began to run for the opposite side of the schooner to reach the lifeboat.
All he remembered next was a deafening explosion, and then everything went black.
It was nothing short of nightmarish on the ocean's surface, and below wasn't much better. The currents were reaching at least halfway to the ocean floor. But they were more a gentle rocking, than a violent surging.
"You're such a dork, what are you doing? I've been looking for you for hours." Roy said in exasperation as he glided on one of the currents over to a large red and black spotted crab that was bouncing and twirling around through the water.
Breda stopped twirling long enough to sweep a bow with one claw to the merman that was eyeing him in exasperation. "It's fun!" He protested.
Roy sank down to sit himself on a rock as his fin tapped against the sandy bottom showing his annoyance. "I don't care if it's fun or not. You were supposed to be there for Havoc's birthday party. And where were you? Here! I had to deal with all eight hundred of his spawn on my own and keep Riza from eating them." He scowled as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. "You're completely unreliable."
"I'm a crab, I get easily distracted." Breda reminded the annoyed merman as he swam over in his ungainly way. "You know I'd have been there if-oh! Look, Roy! A shiny!"
Roy watched, not at all amused, as Breda swam off after a sparkle of light in the water. "One of these days I'm going to let one of those fishing nets catch you." He muttered to himself, shaking his head.
"Look! Lots of shiny!" Breda squealed delightedly, his claws clicking as he tried to grab them.
"You're mental." Roy sighed, [[CompleteMonster and suddenly blinked.
Breda was right, there were lots of shiny things in the water.
Looking up, Roy slowly drifted up off his rock. "What the hell is that?" And without waiting for an answer from his distracted friend, Roy began to swim up closer to the surface where a bright ball of light was glowing and sparking.
He was only meters from it when he spotted one.
A human.
He'd never seen one before.]]
[[Film/DallasBuyersClub He'd never been curious enough. That, and interaction with humans usually ended less than peaceful. So his knowledge about them was relatively basic at best.
What he did know without a shred of doubt, was that humans couldn't breathe under water. And this human was clearly no exception to that rule. Not to mention unconscious.
Without even thinking about what he was doing, Roy gave a hard flick of his tail to shoot up and catch the drowning human around the arms. With no time to waste, and panicking that the human m]]ight be dead, Roy swam to the surface.
Bobbing on the angry water, Roy kept the human's head up as he looked around. The schooner was now well below the water, and he couldn't see anyone else about. But he had to do something.
Roy frowned, and fought against the waves to keep their heads above the surface. With a groan, he wished there were another way, but there wasn't. So he began to awkwardly swim for the nearest shore, towing along the human man who'd finally begun to breathe again after a coughing fit he didn't wake from.
It took Roy until just before dawn, but he finally managed to haul the limp man to a beach. It took a creative effort, but he flopped himself onto the sand so he could begin pulling the human far from the water. He kept pulling until there was no way the water could catch the human again, and there was nothing but sand close by.
As the sun finally broke fully against the ocean horizon, Roy finally was able to catch his breath. Something that was harder above the water, but he was managing. As he sat there on his tail, the fin slapping idly against the sand, he looked over at the human.
Even unconscious and partially dripping wet, Roy couldn't help but notice how the dawn sunlight caught the drying blonde hair until it glowed. Reaching over speechlessly he brushed a lock of it away from the human's face, his eyes drawn to every perfect feature. Glancing down the strong body his eyes eventually found there way back up, and to those lips that were blue from being cold.
Roy blinked, and drew away a bit as he frowned at himself. What was he doing admiring a human? This was ridiculous. His gaze soon returned to the human's face despite his questions, and he smiled. Did it matter? Human or not, he was the most beautiful creature Roy had ever seen.
Tilting his head, Roy smiled again and laughed a bit. Flopping down onto one side and propping himself up on one elbow he gazed wistfully at the man as his tail swished contentedly. He could gaze at this beautiful human for hours and never tire.
But he was not contented to merely gaze for much longer, and Roy reached out with one hand to trace the cold lips with a finger. "I wonder if humans kiss." He wondered aloud quietly.
It took him all of two seconds to decide that he should go for it anyway.
And it took all of two-and-a-half seconds for Edward to suddenly wake up with a cough that caused him to sit up sharply and nearly decapitate Roy in the process.
"You're awake!" Roy grinned delightedly, forgetting for now about kissing the human. He shifted so he could raise himself up a bit more. "I was worried you'd be unconscious for hours. I'd probably have shriveled up under the sun."
Edward startled at the voice, nearly falling over he whirled so fast to see who had spoken. And his eyes immediately seemed to gravitate to the black and green scaled tail and paper-thin fins. But it was not a very large, and very powerful fish he was looking at, and his eyes slowly slid up to where the scales disappeared at the pale waist of what clearly looked to be a man.
With a frantic movement Ed tried to flail back away.
"No!" Roy reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him from scooting away. "I won't hurt you, I promise."
Edward eyed him uncertainly, trying not to stare at the dark-scaled tail that took the place of what should have been legs. It took him a minute to gulp down his shock at what he was faced with, and look back to those black eyes. "You're not…"
"Like you?" Roy filled in with a smile. "No."
Putting a hand to his head, Edward took a deep breath. "I must be hallucinating. Or dead. Something… you can't be real."
Roy tilted his head with a smile and a light laugh. Even when being ignorant, this man was absolutely beautiful. Drawing his hand away from the man's arm he propped himself up better and flapped his tail idly. "I am real. And you're beautiful."
Edward froze as the blood rushed to his face, his golden eyes wide. And he stayed like that until his ability to speak returned to him. Turning to the merman he spoke rather quickly, while ignoring the fact he was blushing. "You can't just go around saying stuff like that!" He protested rather feebly.
"Why not?" Roy asked curiously. "You are. You don't think I go around saying that to every human I save from drowning, do you?"
Edward's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he stared at the merman. "Do you?"
Roy smiled and shook his head. "I've never saved a human before yourself. Never actually seen one until now." And he looked Edward up and down appraisingly before meeting those strange golden eyes again. "But you are beautiful. It doesn't take much to see that."
"If you've never seen a human until me, how do I know that other merpeople aren't just very ugly?"
"Does that mean you think I'm not ugly?" Roy asked teasingly, enjoying watching the man blush again. "I don't have to see another human to know when someone is beautiful. What's your name?"
Edward paused, before answering. "Edward, or Ed. Yours?"
"Roy." Roy answered, still smiling. "Well, Edward or Ed," he smirked at the man's eye roll, "if I'd known someone like you was up here on the surface, I'd have tried to find you a long time ago. But I'm glad I did, even if it took a while."
"Find me for what?" Ed asked uncertainly as he sat there in the sand conversing with Roy. He realized how odd it must look to anyone who might have spotted them. But he didn't try and leave again, convinced somehow that the merman was really there, and it would have been a waste to let such an opportunity pass him by.
Even if said merman seemed to think he was beautiful… he tried not to blush even more at the thought. Or dwell on the thought that Roy wasn't exactly hideous himself. It was hard not to admire the muscled upper body, the flawless pale skin, or even the powerful tail that started from low on the waist.
Roy, not about to admit to knowing he was being checked out by the human, even if he did know, merely smiled as he gazed right back. "For my mate." He said simply.
Whatever Ed had been expecting, it was not that. "For your what?!" He gaped, hoping that clarification would prove he'd misheard what Roy had said.
"My mate." Roy repeated, "unless you have objections? Am I not good looking enough?"
Edward gulped again, and realized that by now the blush seemed to be a permanent thing. "It's not that…" he corrected, even as he raked his eyes slowly down that body. Even with the tail, it was hard to deny that Roy was in possession of some very desirable-stopping that train of thought!
Roy smirked, and his tail began to swish back and forth through the sand as easily as if it wasn't there. "Then what is it? Oh!" He grinned at his sudden idea, "are humans like seahorses? Is there a proper courtship ritual?"
"No-o! No." Ed shook his head quickly before the merman started going into what exactly seahorses did. "There's no ritual."
Completely confused now and out of ideas, Roy heaved a heavy breath and frowned at the man. "Then what is it?"
Edward fished around quickly for ideas. "Well first off you're a merman, and I'm a human." There, that seemed like a pretty good one. "We live in different places, and you can't just go around asking someone to be your mate like that. You just think I'm beautiful, what sort of premise is that for me to want to be your mate?"
Roy wasn't thrown by any of the claims, but he sighed, feeling a bit deflated. "I don't need to know you're beautiful to know that it's you I want. I've looked, believe me. There's something you humans seem to have forgotten in all your years on land, and that's that not everything can be explained. The heart has reasons that reason does not know. And I just know that you're the one I want. Human or not, it makes no difference to me."
Ed, for all his logic and reasoning, could not find it in him to protest that. The downcast look on Roy's face, and knowing he'd done that, tugged at his heart painfully.
Roy looked back towards the ocean, and then at the man still watching him. He could hardly even explain it to himself, much less Edward. All he knew was that he wan- no, loved, this human. It sounded absurd even to his own ears, but he knew that only Edward would do. "I can't stay out of water too long. I should go." He said quietly, "but my heart's yours to keep."
It took Edward up until the time that Roy had flopped himself back into the water with a flash of fins, and had just ducked under to swim away, to suddenly bolt from where he sat and dash towards the shore. "Roy! Wait!"
From under the surface, Roy floated on his back, he'd been hoping that Ed might chase after him. Slowly he righted himself, and even while feeling apprehensive about what his human wanted, he broke the surface while pushing his wet hair from his face. "Yes?" He asked, hardly daring to be hopeful.
Edward knelt down on the sand, looking across those few yards that separated them. "Thank you, for saving my life." He said quietly.
Roy swam closer until he was resting in the water with his forearms against the bottom. "I couldn't just let you die." He replied with a small smile.
Edward smiled back, "I suppose not." He agreed, before suddenly looking around him in panic. "Oh shit!"
Roy frowned at him. "What's the matter?"
"My suitcase, it's gone!" Edward groaned and his hands fisted angrily. "I can't get that money back soon, Al and I'll starve before I could."
Roy's head tilted as he considered his distraught human. He wasn't sure what this money thing was about, but it did worry him that Ed was worried about starving. And who was this Al? He sure hoped he didn't have competition, he didn't want to share Edward. "Who's Al?"
"My brother."
Ah, no competition. This was a good thing for Al, because Roy was not good at coming in as second place. "This money stuff will help feed you and your brother?"
"Would have." Edward sighed bitterly. "Doesn't matter much now, I can't get it back."
Roy slipped back farther into the water. "A suitcase?"
"Yes. Hey, wait!"
Roy paused in moving back towards open ocean. "I'll be back in a few hours. You wait there." And he dove under the water, his tail splashing in after him as he swam through the water as quickly as he could.
Edward stared after him. "Yeah, sure. Why not." He muttered as he went to plop down on top of a mussel encrusted rock. Propping his chin on a hand, and his elbow on a knee, and his foot on a rock, he sat there staring out at the ocean.
He was doubtful that the merman would come back, but even so, here he was waiting. He was hopeless, positively hopeless. And all because Roy had said all those things that had made him blush. Things that had been sincere, else he would have stomped off and merman be damned. It was the first time anyone had ever said such things to him in that way. A way that had more meaning behind it then just trying to get laid.
And so like an idiot, he was sitting on a rock in the middle of Gate knew where, waiting for the return of someone that had before now, only existed in fairytales.
Meanwhile under the glittering surface of the ocean…
Roy swam for almost an hour to reach the site where the wreckage of the schooner had come to rest against the ocean floor. It looked ghostly in the pale light that managed to filter down this far. He had always thought sunken ships looked creepy, and this time was no exception.
Fighting back a shudder, Roy began to scan the sand looking for the suitcase his Ed had lost. Flitting his way through the water, he circled almost the entire vessel before he spotted the corner of it sticking out of the sand. With a smirk of success he swam over and began to dig it free. Edward might not be able to get it back, but Roy certainly could. And if getting it back meant Ed's happiness, Roy would gladly fetch the lost item. He wanted Edward to be happy.
Roy struggled with the sand for a few minutes before he managed to find a handle. Grabbing onto it he braced his tailfin against the sand and shoved his weight backwards. The suitcase pulled free with a beige cloud of sand that only grew as Roy sped away with sharp flicks of his fins.
Yet Roy had one more stop to make before he brought Edward back the missing suitcase.
X
Ed had made it to "six hundred and two bottles of beer on the wall," when the water broke in a spray as a familiar head of black hair surfaced. It took a moment to get over his surprise that Roy had actually come back, as well as a moment to shove away that absurd warmth that had spread through him at the reappearance of the merman. Ungracefully he scrambled down from his perch and hurried at a slow jog towards the water's edge.
Roy pushed the suitcase in front of him as he worked on swimming closer. It was more difficult the closer he was to land. As usual, his tail didn't have much room to work. But he got it in reach of Ed's thrilled hands and took to sitting on the sandy bottom with his tail out to one side, the fin slapping against the water merrily. "Is that the right one?"
Edward had picked it up and opened it already, finding the money still dry. With a relieved sigh, sounding as if the world had been taken off his chest, he closed it again and turned to the merman. "Yes, thank you. But how did you ever find it?"
"I know that part of the ocean very well. It's part of the territory my clan watches over." Roy explained with a smile. "So is this island… but I've never really had a reason to come this close to land before."
The suitcase clutched to his chest, as if he was afraid it would vanish, Edward knelt down in the sand again. "Thank you, really." He shook his head in relief. "You have no idea how badly I needed it back."
Roy continued to smile, glad to see Edward happier. "No," he agreed, "but you wanted it, and I could get it for you. I just want my mate to be happy."
Edward blushed again, far beyond the point now where he was going to feel annoyed with himself for it. Besides, the odd flutter in his chest made being annoyed seem like a fantasy. "But I'm not."
"Then," Roy compromised, his smile turning wistful, "I want the one I love to be happy." And he raised one of his hands out of the water, offering out what was clutched in it to his human. "These are for you."
Edward reached out hesitantly to take the dripping wet, but still beautiful white flowers from Roy. They had stalks like they grew on land, but they seemed… different. They had an odd texture, almost silky to the point of being slippery. "What are they?" He asked quietly as he looked them over.
"Flowers don't just grow on land." Roy explained as he watched Edward gaze at them. "These flowers are beautiful and rare. They're special to me, just like you. And these are for you. Whether you want me or not, like them, I am yours."
Edward looked at them for a long while before he set the suitcase down on the sand, and lay the flowers on top of it. Turning back to Roy, he bit his lip for a moment before speaking at last. "I'm poor, even now I'm losing money being lost out here. I can't afford to think about things like you're suggesting."
Roy slipped through the water to climb his way up onto a rock sitting just off shore. All it took was a heave with his arms to sit him up on the slick surface. He balanced on his hands as his tail swished through the water. All the while he was watching his human. "I don't understand." He admitted at last.
"What's not to understand?" Ed asked, letting some of his anxiety show in his tone.
"This money thing."
Ed sighed and scratched his head to try and find some way to expla- no this was ridiculous! It didn't matter. He shouldn't matter. And yet here Ed still stood, still in the company of one merman under the delusion that they should be mates. He needed to have a long talk with himself. "It's nothing I'm sure you have ever needed to be concerned about. The ocean seems like a pretty nonrestrictive place. No one telling you what to do or anything like that."
Roy tilted his head, "but it is."
Edward gave him a slight frown.
Roy continued without further prompting. "We do have rules, nature itself is a rule. The ocean is restrictive. Either by its very life, or by the rules that are placed upon those who reside in it so that we can keep having a home."
"Who sets these rules then?" Edward asked as he walked a bit closer to the water's edge.
"In this part of the ocean, I do." Roy admitted. "My parents both recently died, my coronation isn't for another week."
Edward stared at the merman wordlessly, before giving a short sort of laugh sounding breath. "Wait, you're telling me you're a prince?" He asked in a strained voice. Could this get any more damn strange?
"Crown prince, yes." Roy sighed, and looked back towards the ocean. "I'm not sure I'm ready to be a king though. It's a bit lonely, even being what I am now is lonely."
Edward couldn't find any words to answer such a thing. All he could do was watch Roy stare off into the distance. He was aware of the fact that Roy's words could have been intended to gain sympathy, and Edward agreeing to what Roy continued to desire. Yet Ed couldn't bring himself to believe such a thing. Roy's words were sincere, and Ed genuinely felt that the merman was being completely honest.
Hang on… "I'm on a what?!"
Roy startled as he looked quickly back over at the wide-eyed human. "A beach. Sand and stuff." He explained with a casual wave of one hand.
"No, no!" Edward's head shook so fast his hair couldn't pick a direction to fly in. "Earlier, you said this island is part of your territory. Island?! I'm on an island?!"
Roy blinked, and nodded. "Yes. Yes, you are. It was the closest thing. But don't worry, there should be fresh water. It's a large island and I've seen rabbits in the short time I've been around here today. So you have water and food. I can bring you fish though if you would prefer them. Or lobster. Whatever you like."
Edward felt like his head was spinning from the panic that had set in. "But I can't be on an island! I want to be on the mainland. You know, so I can get home."
Roy held back a sigh. He wanted Ed to stay with him, but all his human seemed to want to do was get away from him. Was he that terrible a choice for Ed to be with? He'd just have to try and win Ed's affections… somehow. "I'm not sure where it is exactly. I'd have to ask one of the whales in a few days when they come to this region for mating. Until then, please don't be upset. I'll take care of you."
"And take me home?" Edward persisted.
"I only want you to be happy." Roy replied only loud enough to be heard. "I'll take you home if that is what you want."
Ed flinched guiltily. "I'm sorry I can't give you what you want." He said, not seeming to be able to look at the merman. "You're… but I… we just can't."
"Forgive me for saying so," Roy said as he stared down at his scales, "but that's the worst logic I've ever heard." He looked back up at his Edward. "I want to mate with you, I want you to be mine forever. I always will. You can't tell me seriously that what I want is the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard."
Edward bit his lower lip as he shook his head. "No, I suppose not."
Roy smiled at him softly. "I love you, Edward." And he took a deep breath. "I must go take care of some things back home. But I'll be back to check on you tonight. Believe me, I wish I didn't have to leave you, but even a prince can't do whatever he wants. Do you need anything before I leave?"
Edward shook his head, biting back the urge to ask Roy if he was sure he had to leave. Instead asking, "you promise you'll be back?" He asked hesitantly.
Roy nodded, and slipped back into the water. "I won't abandon you."
And then he was gone.
Edward stared after the vanishing ripples that the merman had created, and sighed. Well, this was certainly shaping up to be one hell of a day.
Looking around, Ed grabbed his suitcase and the flowers Roy had given to him. He then began to make his way off the sand and towards a palm not far off the beach. "Well, here goes nothing." Ed muttered, and began to try to set up some semblance of a camp.
Once he'd dug himself a bunker against the spray of the sea, and securely half-stuck his suitcase into the sand, Edward went to find this freshwater. All the while wondering absently if the flowers Roy had given him would die if they came into contact with freshwater. He didn't want them to die after all, not too soon anyway.
He found a dark blue pool that was most definitely freshwater. So he drank, and washed the salt off both his clothes and himself. He dried fast enough out in this direct intense sunlight anyway. Shielding his eyes against it, Ed set off in search of one of those rabbits Roy claimed to have seen.
X
Roy finally reached his home, though he was considerably grumpy. He didn't like leaving his human mate. Rather, the human he desired for his mate. But he had been telling the truth, he did have things to take care of. Else he'd have more trouble on his hands than just his chosen mate who didn't want him.
So he swam back to the human city that had been swallowed by the ocean hundreds of years ago, and the stone castle fortress that had been his home since he was a child. He greeted those he passed with nods, or the more liked ones were given a short wave. But he made a beeline to the castle, slipping in through one of the glassless windows and into the throne room.
"All right, let's begin then shall we?" Roy commanded succinctly as he sank onto the throne his father had once sat in.
"Where have you been?" Maes hissed from his right side as the meeting discussing the finer points of the upcoming coronation party got underway.
Roy glanced briefly at the merman who'd been his best friend since before he could remember. "I met someone." He muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
Maes's eyes widened to the size of seashells. "You did?" He asked, hardly daring to believe it.
"I'll tell you after this is all done." Roy told him to tide his friend over.
And once the coronation details had become the latest reports on Envy's dastardly deeds, to the latest jellyfish migration, the meeting finally came to a close. All the merman and mermaids who had been in attendance were politely shooed away by their crown prince. All but one.
"So tell me about them!" Maes practically squealed as he sat up on the arm of Roy's throne.
Roy smiled, "his name is Edward."
Maes nodded along gleefully.
"He's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."
Maes continued to nod eagerly.
"He's a human."
Maes fell off the throne arm while a "what?!" echoed around the empty hall.
Roy rolled his eyes, and yanked his friend back upright even as he took to floating up off the throne. "He's a human, Maes. And I love him." He said firmly, gripping Maes's arm tightly.
"Roy…" Maes sighed, and then shook his head with a small smile. "Well, it's hard to say you are being an idiot. We don't exactly wait around for the right one to come along for no reason. Our hearts know who our mate is. Even if it doesn't make sense."
"I know." Roy released his friend's arm. "I don't care if he has legs. I can change that, you know I can. If he ever wanted me to."
Maes frowned, "what do you mean? He doesn't feel the same for you?"
Roy sighed and dragged a hand back through his hair. "Humans seem to have lost touch with what their hearts tell them. They try to reason everything out far too much."
Maes smiled bracingly. "Well, if anyone can win your mate's heart, it's you. So win him over. Let him rediscover the part of him he's lost living on land. Show him what it's really supposed to be like."
"I have only a few days." Roy replied, "so I may need you to cover for me. Keep my retainers from thinking they should start following me on my little trips."
"I'll do what I can." Maes promised, "but just know it might be difficult. With Envy getting more bold, your private time outside this castle could become limited. None of us want to see the only heir to the throne die before he has given us an heir. So good luck with your mate."
Roy smiled brightly, and suddenly tackled his friend in a somersaulting hug. "You're the best, Maes! I'll try and win Ed's heart, with any luck I'll have a husband by tomorrow."
Maes turned a slight shade of green as Roy finally stopped spinning them. "I hate flipping over, you know that!"
"I do?" Roy teased, and swam out of range of Maes's swat.
"Go on, your Highness." Maes chuckled weakly as he fought for control of his stomach. "Go win over your human."
Roy grimaced. "Have a stop to make first. I'll see you tomorrow." And he swam out of the throne room with a wave to his best friend.
Neither noticed the single krill that slipped away through a crack in the stone wall.
X
Roy swam down towards the patch of seaweed that blanketed the north end of the city where his clan stayed. Yet he was not here to visit other merpeople. "Hey, where's Riza?"
A gray and black clam popped open with enthusiasm, "she went to follow the orcas south. She said something about seals."
Roy groaned, he didn't mind his shark friend eating. But he did wish that she'd leave some animals alone. Like the cute ones. "And what are you doing, Falman?"
The clam scuttled back and forth in the seaweed. "Trying to play hide and seek, but you're blowing my cover."
Roy smirked, "I'll go see if I can't turn-" he paused.
"Fuery." Falman the clam filled in.
"Fuery around." Roy finished, while rolling his eyes. That shouldn't be too difficult. Fuery had probably already forgotten that he was playing a game. And he swam off in search of the goldfish as Falman snapped back closed again.
Roy found the goldfish bouncing on a blade of seaweed while squealing happily and giggling. "Hey, Fuery." He snapped his fingers in the goldfish's direction.
Fuery squeaked and tumbled backwards into more seaweed.
"Fuery, it's me. Roy." The merman sighed tiredly.
"Roy who?"
"As in Roy Mustang who will kick your gills into Riza's three thousand razor sharp teeth if you don't get out here." Roy filled in casually.
Fuery swam out slowly, looking very sheepish. "Sorry."
Roy waved a hand around as if to brush off the apology. "Call off the game for a minute."
"Game, what game?" Fuery asked with a very confused expression. Something that didn't look much unlike the way a goldfish normally looked.
"Hide and seek." Roy prompted patiently. Goldfish had a short term memory span of a rock, and he was used to it by now.
"I like that game!"
"Yes, but I want you to call it off."
Fuery blew bubbles in disappointment. "Okay." And he twirled higher into the water. "Game time-out!"
Roy waited until everyone else had appeared; Havoc the seahorse, Breda the shiny loving crab, Falman the… well, clam, and Armstrong the octopus. "I have a favor to ask of all of you…"
By the time Roy had finished explaining, he doubted that anyone but Havoc would be of any real help with this task, but at least it'd been said. Now he could go back to his mate, and he could hardly contain his excitement.
He swam as fast as he could back to that island.
When he surfaced he found the beach empty of the human, but he suspected that he was close by. It was dark now, the moon had been shining for almost an hour and a cool night breeze teased at the water. Feeling eager and with a smile, Roy splashed closer to the shore.
X
Edward was roused from his slight doze by the soft calling of his name. With a sleepy smile, he began to sit up. He knew that voice, and he welcomed some company again. It was rather lonely being here on this island alone. And though he'd not easily admit it, it was just a bit scary. However by now he was beginning to trust that when Roy said he'd come back, he'd come back. And it was nice to be able to finally trust someone like that who wasn't his brother.
No, Roy was definitely not his brother.
Ignoring the faint blush, Ed hurried back down to the beach, spotting Roy drifting just off shore. "Hi." He said after a moment, feeling almost shy.
Roy smiled happily, "did you eat?"
"Yes."
"Then come here." Roy's smile did not fade.
Edward paused, blinking, before laughing almost nervously. "Wait, out there?"
Roy nodded. "Yes, don't worry. It's not like I'll let you drown. Come here."
"Why?" Ed asked with a fluttering feeling somewhere in the region of his stomach.
"Do you have anything better to do?" Roy asked pointedly, and drifted farther back. "Don't tell me you're scared of the water?"
Edward shook his head. "No." And at Roy's smirk, he felt some of his indignant side come out. "Okay then." He said and pulled off his boots to wade in until he was up to his knees in water. "Now what do you want?"
"Only you, my beautiful Ed." Roy replied honestly, before he ducked under the water.
Edward looked around in confusion. "Ro-OY!" And he crashed into the water with a gigantic splash, and came up laughing. "Roy!" He managed to berate the merman between laughs.
Roy surfaced, laughing as well. "You look good wet." He grinned, and grabbed Ed by both hands, slowly bringing him out deeper until he knew the human could barely touch the bottom.
Ed blushed, and he found it hard to get rid of that blush when he couldn't seem to look away from those black eyes. Those eyes that seemed to burn him with a strange fire. "I'm not as beautiful as you think I am." He replied quietly. "My brother is a lot better looking than I am."
"I'm not looking at your brother, Ed." Roy answered softly, and released one of Ed's hands to slip his fingers through those golden locks hanging wetly around the man's face and neck. "I'm looking at you, and you are beautiful."
"Why couldn't you have been a human?" Ed whispered without even really thinking about what he was saying. Or the fact that he was leaning into Roy's hand that was stroking through his hair slowly.
"So one day you could ask me that." Roy replied and smiled reassuringly. "I'm not as crazy as you seem to think. We can be together, if you trust me. But for now, just think about it. Take as long as you need, I'm yours whenever you choose to have me."
Ed looked away and laughed softly, but it was a happy sort of laugh. "Does the ocean have some sort of spell that makes me-"
"Open up to what you subconsciously want?" Roy finished.
Ed nodded slowly.
"The water is relaxing." Roy explained with a gentle smile. "Maybe you aren't so opposed to me as you'd like to think."
"I'd like to think I'd have the sense to get out before I catch a cold." Edward muttered.
Roy laughed, "you won't. It's a warm night, and the water is hardly cold."
"So says the one who lives at the bottom of the ocean."
"You may have a point there."
Edward smirked at him, "I just might. But Roy," his smirk faded, "seriously, I have to think about what I need to do. And I need to take care of Al. I'm not a prince like you, I'm like… the sediment to your castle. I can't be selfish and begin to think it could even be remotely okay to abandon him."
Roy blinked, "you know I have a castle?"
Ed rolled his eyes, "it was rather implied with the whole 'prince' thing."
"Ah." Roy could see the logic in that one.
"Can you understand that?" Edward asked, his golden eyes searching Roy's face.
Roy thought about it for a second or two. "I understand." He accepted quietly. And he did. He could understand not wanting to abandon family. "When your brother can take care of himself, though," Roy continued, "please remember you hold my heart. Maybe one day you could give me yours in return."
Edward gazed at him in a sort of wordless awe for a moment. "You really do love me, don't you."
"It's an inadequate word for what I feel for you, but yes, I love you." Roy replied with sincere honesty and a slight smile. "I'll forever love you." And taking advantage of Edward's speechless moment, he did what he'd been wanting to do since he'd hauled the unconscious human onto the beach. Pulling Ed closer he caught the surprised lips against his own in a desperate kiss. Desperate to at least once know the taste and feel of his mate.
Any protesting Ed might have done flickered and faded as he found himself kissing Roy back. He clung to the merman tightly, desperately. The erratic fire in his veins fueling his want for more. And he nipped at Roy's bottom lip demandingly, moaning into the kiss as their tongues slid against one another.
It came as no surprise to either of them that it was Ed who needed to pull away for air first. And he pulled away panting unevenly, his golden eyes over bright as he gazed into Roy's black ones. "Roy, I-"
Roy quickly cut him off with another kiss, and felt the blonde melt into him even as he was kissed back hungrily. He pulled away before either of them was ready, only to move his mouth to Ed's ear. "What is it my mate?" He whispered seductively before beginning to nibble along Ed's ear.
Edward shivered with a low moan, both from Roy's words and actions. One of his hands was clutching at the merman's bare shoulder, the other buried in Roy's hair, encouraging Roy to continue what he was doing. "I forgot." He admitted, having lost all coherent thought under Roy's touch. Those hands running over his body were very distracting.
"Good." Roy replied against Ed's neck before straightening so he could look his mate in the eyes. "Now stop thinking. It's a lot less fun when you're thinking about serious stuff while we're making out."
"I shouldn't be doing this." Edward groaned even as he moved forward to catch Roy's lips in an open mouthed kiss.
Neither could help thinking for the briefest of seconds that they were glad Ed was.
X
The krill that had snuck from Roy's castle had finally reached its destination. After all, krill were not fast swimmers. They were like… half-functional sperm. Completely reliant upon a current in the proper direction and the salvation of not being annihilated by an outside force of some kind.
"Report! You unviable creature doomed to be swallowed by an abyss of acidic darkness." Demanded the krill's owner, a half-human, half-seaweed looking being. Only the torso was human, the rest was long strands of seaweed that functioned as appendages and hair.
Envy the Evil Seaweed.
And evil he was. He was so close, so close to getting his hands on that bastard Roy's throne. The parents had been easy to knock off. But their son was proving a bit more irritating. And once that bastard mer-spawn assumed the throne, it would be even more irritating to get rid of him. That's all the merman needed, a bloody crown.
"Sir," the unviable creature doomed to be swallowed by an abyss of acidic darkness, otherwise known as a krill, began, "his highness has fallen in love."
Great, the bastard just got even more irritating. Envy really could not stand all that mushy romance stuff. It was ridiculous. Give him a hatchet, a prince, and the prince's whore mate, and that was pure poetry right there. With some blood as the finishing touch to the canvas of what was truly romantic. Death. And lots of it. Yes, yes this little heart-stealer must be invited to the fun. "And who's the lucky mermaid who gets to become capture number six?"
"You've only captured-?"
"I asked you who!" Envy shrieked as blood flushed to his face.
"It's not a mermaid."
"Merman then." Envy twirled a finger in the water idly. "Never quite thought that having a sausage shoved up my non-existent ass would feel nice, but who am I to judge what my victims want to do in their last minutes of life?"
"It's a human, sir."
"A WHAT?!" Envy shrieked, raising sand from the floor in the process. "He's gone and fallen for a human?! Bloody two-legger is giving me competition! Humans only want to kill merpeople, deep, deep down. And I will not share the glory of knocking off the whole family line!"
"The human must be close." The krill continued as if not hearing Envy's psychotic rambling. "Roy seems to be swimming back and forth."
"Get my map! You unviable creature doomed to be swallowed by an abyss of acidic darkness, hurry!" Envy declared with an upward punch of one fist. "Shit!" Envy whimpered as he patted his head where his sudden movement had ripped several seaweeds from his head.
The krill complied with the slowness of a sea slug, somehow managing to balance the map that was the size of a whale over to where Envy waited impatiently.
"Finally!" Envy snarled, snatching it away and opening it with a decisive sharp movement.
The krill squealed in terror as it was knocked for a spin by the opening map, right into the waiting mouth of Gluttony the whale.
Gluttony burped.
"Shut up, you disgusting fat whale of a bad guy!" Envy growled, "go let Bradley chase you. Burn off some calories. Just remember to do reps of ten!"
A swordfish streaked with a mad cackle after a slowly fleeing Gluttony.
Envy pondered over the map. "Aha!" He had found where the human must be. With a grin he tossed the map over his head and went to make ready for his kidnap.
X
It was near dawn when Envy broke the surface of the water near the island. "Hello-o?" He called out in his sweetest voice.
Edward frowned as he slowly sat up, stretching stiffly. That voice… it wasn't Roy's. And he smiled when he thought about the merman. Last night had… really given him a lot to think about. The way Roy touched him, and the way it felt, it was the most perfect thing Ed had ever known. But that other voice...
He rose and began to make his way back to the beach, frowning as he saw what was out there in the water. Definitely not Roy. It looked like someone covered in seaweed. Old seaweed. "Who are you?" He asked, staying back away from the edge of the shore. He found he didn't trust anyone but Roy out here. Especially when the next individual he saw looked like that.
"My name is Envy..tra." There, that sounded like a much more normal name.
Edward blinked blankly. "What do you want?"
"I want you to come with me. We're going to go meet Roy." Envy persuaded.
Ed frowned, and backed away. "What are you, an idiot? I'm not going into the water with a homeless looking merman."
"I'm a seaweed."
"Even more reason."
"Just come with me, and no one will get hurt."
Edward glared. "Why don't you come close and we'll see who gets hurt? I'd like to kick your ass across this whole ocean. Creep."
Envy glared, "you humans are far too stubborn for your own good. I promise I won't drown you."
"You're really starting to backpedal into deeper sh-shit!" Edward clamped his hands over his ears as the gunshot sounded. Looking around he saw a boat much like the one he'd been on pulling closer, one of the men on deck toting a rifle. Looking back to the water he saw green blood as Envy sank below the surface.
"I got that-!"
"Please excuse his language."
"Woo! I am King of the Freak Killers!"
Edward eyed the men uncertainly. They had anchored the boat and come ashore to fetch him. They'd heard of the wreck possibly happening, and come to search out survivors in the nearby areas. And they'd just so happened to go gunpowder-happy on Envy the Freak.
Which he wasn't so sure was a bad thing.
As long as it wasn't Roy. But Roy did look more human from the torso up. But still…
"Come on, we should get you home Mister Elric."
Edward bit his lip, an internal war going on inside. Flashes of Roy, flashes of his face, his touch, his voice, it all was clashing at him. Begging him to stay and not leave the one he knew now he loved. How could he not? When it hurt this bad to leave him behind.
And Edward had no choice but to leave him behind. Because it was what he needed to do.
"Right." And so Edward fetched his suitcase back, trying not to drag his feet even if it felt surreal that he was actually leaving so soon. So soon after realizing that he'd found someone he could be with. Be with the way Roy was offering for him to be. It didn't feel real to leave now, and childishly he wished it weren't real. But he knew better.
He hid the flowers away in the suitcase, clutching the suitcase to him as he climbed aboard the boat. As the vessel made sail again, heading for home, Edward had never before felt the strong urge to jump off. He walked to the railing to watch the island slip away. "I'm sorry I never could tell you… I love you." He whispered as the reality of where he was going and what he was leaving hit him full force.
Back at the island…
Roy stared at Havoc numbly after the seahorse had finished reporting. His eyes drifted to the dead carcass of Envy, who would be causing no more trouble or taking up time in the meetings. Humans had shot Envy and taken Edward away.
No, taken his mate back home.
Away from him.
"What will you do?" Havoc asked the merman quietly.
Roy looked towards the direction Havoc had said the boat went. "The only thing I can do, I'm going after him."
"But-!"
"I love him, Havoc." Roy cut him off absently. "And I don't want to be without him. Tell Maes I've gone after him, he'll think of a good excuse to cover my absence."
"They shot Envy, what do you think they'd do to you?" Havoc called after the merman as Roy turned to leave. "You're supposed to be our king in less than a week now. You're our only heir."
"With Envy dead, there are no more risks." Roy replied gently, pausing to look back at the seahorse. "And there won't be any more heirs unless I get my mate back one day. But I have to know, I have to tell him how to find me when he's ready."
Havoc sighed, "then good luck, my prince."
Roy gave the seahorse one last smile before speeding off through the water after the boat.
X
It was two days before the boat docked, and a melancholic Edward with it. Everyone on board had assumed it was just because he'd been shipwrecked. And Ed didn't ever want to tell these people the truth. No, he couldn't. Looking back out towards the ocean he felt a deep sadness steal over him. The first time he'd ever truly loved anyone, and the ocean separated them so effectively.
With a twinge of aching pain in his heart, he turned away and began to walk across the dock. It would take him most of the day to reach the small home he shared with his brother. A long time to spend alone with only memories of what he'd held for a short time.
The tears hit the dust as he walked the long road home.
By dusk the tears had finally abated, though Ed suspected he probably looked like he'd been crying the whole walk. Which he practically had. He didn't know why it hurt so bad, but it did. And he was helpless to stop it. He supposed that this was what gave people a sort of dignity, having lost someone they loved, but he'd rather have Roy than any sort of dignity.
When he walked through that front door of the small shack he shared with Al along the river they fished and farmed for money, the relief of being home didn't hit him. Instead his spirits only seemed to fall more, but he affixed a smile to his face and set down the suitcase. "Al?"
"Brother! You're back!"
Edward was nearly knocked off his feet as his younger, but still somehow nearly taller, brother, tackled into him with a massive hug. "Al, careful!" He protested with a small laugh, a real one. Well, it was good to see Alphonse again, that much would never change.
Al laughed and pulled away. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was really worried! I-" Al paused, his face turning concerned. "You've been crying, what's wrong?"
Ed startled, and gave himself a rough shake to try and snap him out of his depressed state. "Nothing, just really relieved to be home." All of which were half-lies.
Al frowned, not really believing, but not about to doubt just yet. "Well come on, let's get you fed!" And he dragged his brother off to the small table they shared.
Edward ate mechanically, not really tasting the food he was chewing and swallowing. His entire being felt heavy, lethargic, but he didn't feel like sleeping. With a sigh, he looked to the suitcase, and looked away as he felt the tears prickle at his eyes.
Al had followed his brother's gazes, counted the sighs, taken note of everything. And finally he smiled softly. "Who did you meet?"
Ed jumped at the sudden voice, and blinked at his brother with big doe-eyes. "What?"
"Who is it that you've been sighing over since you got home?" Al pressed with a reassuring look. "Do you love them?"
Edward blushed faintly and looked down at his plate. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."
"Try me." Al said, sitting back with a smile still in place.
Ed paused, before he finally stood up and went to pick up the suitcase. He brought it back over to the table and laid it down in front of Alphonse. "Open it. Do you know what those are?" And he went to sit back down.
Alphonse unlocked it carefully and pried it open. His eyes widened, a faint gasp coming out of his mouth before he delicately picked one of the flowers up. "Brother, where the hell did you get all these?"
"In a moment, do you know what they are?" Edward repeated.
Al nodded, "they're worth a lot more to herbalists than this cash is worth to the bank." He admitted, and laid it back inside the case reverently. "Where did you get them?" He asked in awe, looking back across the table to his brother.
"From Roy." Edward replied simply, trying to hide the pain in his voice at saying that name aloud again. "We… I… he asked me to basically marry him."
Alphonse considered his brother for a moment, before snapping the suitcase shut and laying it aside. "Listen," he said, turning back to his brother, "this Roy, do you love him?"
Edward nodded mutely, his heart seeming to be in his throat right now.
"Does he love you?" Al asked further.
Edward nodded again.
Al nodded and sat back in his chair. "And what was your answer when he basically asked to marry you?"
"What the hell do you think?" Ed asked bitterly and stood up. "Sorry. I just need some fresh air."
Alphonse sighed, and smiled knowingly as his brother left. Only his brother would sacrifice something like love to do what Ed saw as his duty. And if Al were any judge, it seemed like this was not just any common love that was between his brother and this Roy.
Outside Ed was pacing back and forth across the short wooden deck that overshot the river. It was nice to be home, he supposed. But he desperately missed Roy. If he closed his eyes he could still feel Roy's touch, see his face. But it only made him long for what he no longer had, so he opened his eyes while recognizing that he may not sleep for some time.
With a sigh he sat down on the edge of the deck and stared glumly up at the moon. This time last night he'd been in Roy's arms, and he shivered as he remembered every detail. Last night Roy had opened him up to what he had been fighting against, awakened the side of him that seemed to know just as instinctively as Roy knew, that they were meant to be together.
"I miss you." He sighed, and his head fell into his hands.
"Then come back with me."
Edward half-yelped and half-gasped as his head shot up and his eyes shot open. He barely even knew he had moved before he'd tipped off the deck to tackle Roy down into the water in a possessive hug. When Roy managed to get them back to the surface, Ed was laughing happily even as he cried while still clinging to Roy.
Roy smiled tenderly, and held his mate close to him with a contented sigh. "Are you always this much of an emotional mess?" He asked gently as he soothingly ran a hand through Ed's wet hair.
"Yes, you asshole." Edward muttered, and put a stop to his crying as he pulled back to gaze at the merman. "Are you really here?"
Roy smiled again, and caught Ed's lips in a gentle kiss. "I was hoping you'd come back with me."
Edward bit his lip uncertainly. "Roy…"
"Go with him."
Both of them looked over quickly to see Al smile and walk closer to sit on the edge of the deck.
"I'd thought you'd fallen in, but I see someone was already there to catch you." Al smiled at Roy. "You must be the one who asked my brother to marry him."
Roy looked at the blonde human he held, and then back to Al. "I am, if he'll ever have me."
Edward blushed, "Roy, this is my brother."
Roy nodded, and looked back to Ed with a decisive smile. "You were wrong."
"What?" Ed frowned at him, even as he stayed in Roy's arms.
"He's not more beautiful than you."
Alphonse grinned with a bit of a laugh as he watched his brother turn red from the compliment, and tried not to roll his eyes as Roy kissed him soundly. He had to clear his throat though to keep things from going much farther too soon. "Go with him, brother. You two obviously want to be with each other. Even if I have to wonder about his methods of showing up and keeping you in that freezing water."
"Not so cold here." Edward muttered from where he was pinned up against Roy's warm body. But he gently extracted himself and got back onto the deck dripping wet. "Al, I won't just abandon you."
Roy swam over, and hopped up as well, though the deck was a bit slippery under his scales. Damn freshwater made everything more slippery. "I can't exactly stay out of the water too long, as you can imagine." He told Al even as the youngest sibling stared wide-eyed at the tail and fins. "I couldn't exactly ride up on a white horse or something."
Al suddenly grinned, and stood up. This was the most exciting thing to ever happen to his brother and Ed was just sitting there. One of them needed to shove his brother along. "How do you propose Ed can live with you?"
"But Al, you need me here!"
"No, brother," Al shook his head somberly. "For once in your life, be selfish. You want to be with him, and he wants to be with you. With the money you brought back I'll be fine, believe me. So go with him, it's what you both want."
Roy turned to Ed, taking both the human's hands in his. "Edward, I love you. I want you to be my mate."
"But Roy," Ed turned his attention away from his stubbornly grinning brother, "we're not… alike. I can't go to your home and you can't stay for long in mine."
Roy squeezed the hands he held. "I can give you a tail in place of your legs. Just say the word and we never have to be apart again."
"But how?"
"Does it matter?" Al interrupted, "go with him Ed. You'll be happy, I know you will. You deserve to finally be happy. And it's not like you couldn't come visit."
Edward looked over at his brother, then back to Roy. "Al, could you give me a few minutes alone?"
Alphonse nodded, and quietly went back inside. Though he instantly planted himself at a window to watch.
Ed turned where he sat so he faced Roy. Taking a deep breath, he met Roy's curious black eyes and smiled. "I'm sorry I had to leave like that before."
Roy shook his head, "no, I know why you did. I was having some of my friends keep an eye on you. For the very reason of that creature you saw get shot. Envy would have tried to use you to get to me, and I wanted someone to be able to come get me if that happened. They were about to when there was no longer a need for it."
Edward grimaced, "I thought there was something seriously wrong with that thing."And he gave himself a mental shake. "Anyway, that's… the thing is when I left I didn't want to. I wanted us to stay together. It hurt to leave, even though I had to."
Roy smiled at him gently, and raised one hand to touch Ed's cheek. "You cried."
"Yeah." Edward wiped at his eyes roughly. "Don't remind me."
Roy chuckled and leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. "Are you finally falling for me?"
"Been there, done that." Ed replied softly. "I love you." He barely got the words out before he was kissing Roy quite thoroughly.
When they finally pulled apart just enough to get in some air, Roy laughed quietly, happily. "I want you to be my mate."
"I thought you'd never ask."
"I've been asking!" Roy protested as Ed laughed.
Edward kissed him quickly again and pulled away with a wink. "It's just taken me some time to get a clue."
Roy smiled, and traced Ed's lips with a finger. "So, will you let me get rid of those legs of yours?"
Ed bit his lip, and looked towards the shack. "Al…"
"Al wants you to be happy. You heard him." Roy reminded his mate patiently. "I think he'd be mad if you stayed and didn't want to."
Edward looked back at him, knowing Roy was right. With a small smile, he nodded. "Will this hurt?"
Roy slipped back into the water with a small splash, and urged Ed in with him. "Shouldn't. I've never done this before. But don't worry, I do know what I'm doing. It's kind of instinctual knowledge."
The water was a bit cold, and Ed shivered as he sidled closer to Roy. "Well if it hurts I'm not mating with you for a month."
Roy rolled his eyes, though he did not like the sound of that threat. "Don't make me nervous now."
Ed smirked, "how do you propose this mating thing happen anyway?"
"I'll just have to show you, you eager little human." Roy replied, and kissed Edward lovingly. "Now close your eyes, this'll be a bit bright."
Roy waited to be sure Ed wasn't trying to peek before he took a deep breath and focused on what he wanted to do. His own eyes slipped closed as a glittering silvery light swirled from the water. It lit up the surrounding area as if it were daylight again before vanishing all in an instant. Once all remains of the light were gone, Roy opened his eyes, and kissed Ed's forehead. "Did it hurt?"
Edward's eyes snapped open, and he was suddenly glad Roy was holding him because he nearly fell backwards into the water. "Tingly." He answered, and somehow managed to figure out how he was supposed to get the foreign feeling appendage above water a bit so he could see the result. The glitter of dark gold met his eyes, and he swished it around curiously while ignoring Roy's quiet laughter.
"We should be going, as soon as you're ready. We're going to miss our coronation at this rate." Roy informed him, still not releasing his hold on his mate. He knew very well what would happen if he let go right now. He was saving that amusement for later.
Edward blinked at him, and his tail slipped back under the water as he stared at Roy. "That's right, you're going to be king soon."
"As will you." Roy told him, "as my mate you have as much authority as I do."
Edward smiled at that, "so Al really does never have to worry about money again."
"If there's something valuable to humans down there, take what you wish when Al needs more of this money stuff."
Ed nodded, and looked back over to the shack. "Let me say goodbye first… hey, Al!"
Alphonse walked back outside, smiling when he saw them both in the water together. He didn't need to be told to know that his brother had finally made the right choice for his own happiness. He walked to the edge of the short dock, still smiling. "Just make sure you come back and visit. I'll be fine. Promise."
"I will." Edward promised. "I'll miss you, Al."
Al chuckled. "You'd miss Roy a lot more, you know you would." He teased, and then looked over at Roy. "Take good care of him, or I swear I'll peel every scale off one by one. Slowly."
Roy smiled reassuringly. "I don't plan to put him in danger now that I finally have him." And he looked at Ed. "Are you ready to leave?"
Edward shook his head, "one second." And he smiled at Al. "The flowers are yours. I'll settle for this guy." And as he jerked his head over at Roy, said merman promptly smirked while releasing his hold on Edward.
The new merman yelped and flailed as he fell back into the water with a large splash. It took Edward several tries, but finally he was able to figure out how to get some control back and surface again. He did so coughing only by habit, because he had had absolutely no trouble breathing under the water.
Roy had just finished telling Al something when Ed finally managed to come back up. With a grin and a nod to Al, he grabbed Ed by the arm. "This way, my beautiful mate. Time for us to go home. I'll teach you how to swim on the way. It's easier in open water."
Ed shrieked and laughed, waving to Al even as Roy hauled him off.
It didn't take Roy long to get them back to the ocean. He was a good swimmer, and hauling Ed around was much easier the second time around now that his human was no longer a human. Pulling Ed farther below the surface he gently stopped them.
"It'll start coming naturally, but just watch what I do. And don't fight currents, either go with them or around them." Roy informed him, while looking the new merman up and down appreciatively. "I did a good job."
Edward blushed and swatted at him, finding that there seemed to be no water resistance. He felt like the water was nothing more than wet air. "What happened to my shirt?"
Roy grinned, "you don't need it anymore. Besides, it's not like I haven't gotten your shirt off before."
"Roy!"
Roy laughed and ducked easily as Ed lunged at him. "You're not too bad right off." He noted, and flipped out of the way again.
Edward somehow managed to stop, though it was rather jerky and he had to figure out how to turn himself vertically again. Putting his hands on his hips he stared down the other merman. "Won't I be stared at though?"
"Not in the way you're thinking." Roy smiled. "We don't exactly have eyes for others mates." And he beckoned to his beautiful mate. "Come on, we'll take the scenic swim."
Grinning, Edward swam after him, his ungainly movements slowly molding into a semblance of ease.
When he'd first gotten onto that boat, he'd never dreamed he'd end up like this. He knew he wouldn't have it any other way though, than swimming to his new home beside the one he loved. And beside him Roy could never have thought that rescuing a pathetically drowning human would have given him someone to cherish and love. But it had. And he knew he'd spend the rest of his life making sure his beautiful mate was happy. It was all he needed.
They were all that they ever could have needed.
Her long hair, still wet from the shower, had been combed down her back in a wet swath. Hilda was sitting on the floor, her round, wet boobs still wet from the shower’s water. She dried off the water with a towel, which then became wet.
Hilda gasped when she saw a reflection in her bedroom mirror: through the slightly open door, she caught a glimpse of the chiseled abs and square jaw of the mysterious stranger who shared her cabin. She stood and spun around, her breasts swinging heavily with the momentum. She grabbed the door and flung it open, revealing shirtless Torolf (which is seriously his name) quivering with desire in the hallway.
Torolf was ashamed at being caught, but his shame made him even hotter – hotter for sex. He stepped into the room, and his bulging abs accidentally smushed into Hilda’s rich chest.
As Hilda’s buttermilk bosoms squished up against his granite abs, Torolf almost had a dick aneurysm.
“Hilda,” Torolf murmured thickly, his throbbing meat wand pressing against Hilda’s warm thighs. “There is a secret I need to not tell you: You are my forbidden desire.”
Hilda had been waiting to hear these words. Her heart was lifted on golden wings and soared toward a radiant sun of perfect joy. She saw herself and Torolf happy together, bathed in the golden light of love. Her snooch got all warm, too.
“Torolf,” Hilda moaned, her lush teats straining with desire. “I need you.”
Torolf, coarse abs pulsing softly in the moonlight, stood silently.
Hilda looked at him expectantly.
“Oh, sorry,” she added. “Torolf, I need you – sexually.”
At hearing those beautiful words, Torolf flexed his rough-hewn abs and Hilda found herself being guided to her soft bed by the sheer force of Torolf’s undulating midsection. She parted her thighs in anticipation, exposing the soft pink petals of her clunge.
Torolf entered her like she was a lottery. His engorged pecker pushed inside her and she felt fulfilled with sexual fulfillment.
Hilda clutched at the bedsheets with lust and ecstasy and her hands. Her spongy love mountains hurled to and fro with each pounding. Her body was like a beautiful flower that was opening and somebody was pushing their dick inside it.
Then Torolf moaned, arched his back, and suffered from dick Parkinson’s. He pumped in all of his hot pearlescent sperms as Hilda spasmed with so many orgasms!
The two lay still for a moment as the stinky scent of lovemaking billowed around the room.
Hilda got out of bed, still shimmering with orgasm. She glowed with contentment, like a cat who ate the cream of the crop.
She walked across the room and picked up her towel, still wet with shower water. “Torolf,” she said softly, “there’s something I have to tell you…”
But her bed was empty.
Torolf was gone, escaped out the bedroom window. In the distance, Hilda heard the fading sound of galloping abs.
The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen
A kingdom of isolation,
And it looks like I’m the queen.
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn’t keep it in, heaven knows I tried
Don’t let them in, don’t let them see
Be the good girl you always have to be
Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know
Well, now they know
Let it go, let it go
Can’t hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn away and slam the door
I don’t care
What they’re going to say
Let the storm rage on,
The cold never bothered me anyway
It’s funny how some distance
Makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
Can’t get to me at all
It’s time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through
No right, no wrong, no rules for me
I’m free
Let it go, let it go
I am one with the wind and sky
Let it go, let it go
You’ll never see me cry
Here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let the storm rage on
My power flurries through the air into the ground
My soul is spiraling in frozen fractals all around
And one thought crystallizes like an icy blast
I’m never going back,
The past is in the past
Let it go, let it go
And I'll rise like the break of dawn
Let it go, let it go
That perfect girl is gone
Here I stand
In the light of day
Let the storm rage on,
The cold never bothered me anyway
oh the cleverest men at Oxford, know all that there is to be known, but they don't know half as much as clever old Mr. Toad
I know, I know I've let you down
I've been a fool to myself
I thought that I could
live for no one else
But now through all the hurt and pain
Its time for me to respect
the ones you love
mean more than anything.
So with sadness in my heart
I feel the best thing I could do
is end it all
and leave forever
whats done is done, it feels so bad
what once was happy now is sad
I'll never love again
my world is ending
I wish that I could turn back time
'cause now the guilt is all mine
can't live without the trust from those you love.
I know we can't forget the past
you can't forget love and pride
because of that it's killing me inside
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down,
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down,
in my heart of hearts,
I know that I could never love again
I've lost everything
everything, everything
that matters to me,
matters in this world
I wish that I could turn back time
'cause now all the guilt is mine
can't live without
the trust from those you love
I know we can't forget the past
we can't forget love and pride
because of that, its killing me inside
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down
Jacob's inner monologue
Ok, so I might be a total jerk and all, but I really can't stand the guy my sister is crushing on. Yeah, I know I can be a little possessive sometimes, but after all, she is my sister. Oh, I suppose I should introduce myself. My name if Jacob, but everyone calls me Jake. My dad is Charlie Swan. He was pretty busy about sixteen years ago. He had a wicked affair with my mom, a Quileute woman, and she got knocked up with me a couple months after Charlie got his wife Rene pregnant with my sister Bella. Needless to say, Rene left right after Bella was born, so Charlie got stuck with both of us!
Anyway, so she is a couple months older and all, but so what! I'm still bigger and stronger than her. I live with my dad and Bella in Forks, but I spend a lot of time with my mom too. It's kind of fucked up, but we deal with it.
At school today, my buddy Jasper told me that he heard his brother Edward telling everyone that he is going to ask my sister Bella to go out with him this Friday night. I fucking hate Edward! Jasper is ok, but the rest of those Cullen kids are spoiled rotten pricks! Edward is like totally the worst!
Mr. Perfect Edward Cullen, captain of the school baseball team, and number one ass hole on campus! My sister will go nuts over this idea. She is totally about him, just like all the other girls. Dumb bitches! They don't know anything! God, I fucking hate him! He goes around here like he's God or something. He thinks he's too good to talk to me, always turns his head when he sees me walking down the hall.
I swear he was whispering about me to his big, dumb, jock brother Emmett yesterday. They were both staring at me, and got real quiet when I passed them in the hall. Fags!
So I got this plan. I sent Bella a text during English class, asking her to meet me after school in the meadow. I'm going to tell her that she absolutely can't go out with Edward. I hope she takes it ok. I imagine she won't. But at this point, it's all I got.
Change from Jacob's thoughts to real time
"Bella, thanks for meeting me here. I was afraid you'd blow it off, what with the storm and all." Jake says as he gets off his dirt bike and walks toward his sister Bella.
"Yeah, what the hell was so important that I had to drive all the way out here for? Couldn't it wait till we got home?" Bella asks closing her truck door.
They walk toward each other as it starts to rain. Thunder rumbles, and lightening streaks across the cloudy sky, the wind begins to pick up.
"Jake, make this quick or were going to get fried!" Bella exclaims.
"Look sis, I just need to ask you for something. I know you aren't going to want to do this, but I need for you to do it for me. Please don't go out with Edward Cullen on Friday. He is a complete dick, and he will just use you, and then throw you away. Then I'll have to kick his ass, and he'll bring his big brother along, and it will be a complete "wipe up the ground with Jacob" match." Jacob pleads.
"Jake are you totally insane? Edward doesn't hate you. Why do you hate him?" Bella asks as the thunder continues to rumble, and the lightning strikes come closer and closer.
"He totally hates me!" Jacob shouts above the rising wind. "I know he was talking smack about me to Emmett the other day! They were both staring at me when I passed them. They got real quiet and all. I'm not stupid. I see him staring at me all the time, then when I turn to stare back; he looks away and kind of laughs to himself like he thinks I'm a dweeb or something."
"Jacob if you would just listen…." Bella begins.
Lightning strikes the ground between the two siblings. Jacob and Bella are thrown backwards and away from each other. They lie stunned on the wet ground, as the storm suddenly passes over. Within moments, the sun is out and shining on the wet meadow grass.
"Holy shit Bella, what the fuck was that all about? Are you ok?" Jacob asks as he turns to look for his sister, but who he sees looking back at him is not his sister. It's himself.
Jacob stares at the version of him sitting in the wet grass a few feet away. That version looks at him, tilting its head slightly to one side as if to see better, a look of complete bafflement on its face.
God do I look that stupid when I'm confused? Jacob wonders.
"Jake… what just happened…did we…are you…Holy Crow!" Bella exclaims.
"Jacob, did we switch bodies?" She screams.
Jacob looks down at himself for the first time, and notices, to his horror that he is indeed in his sister's body. He can see her long hair, her painted fingernails, and her breasts. Yes, he is in his sister's body, and she is in his.
"How the hell did this happen?" Jacob cries out, noticing that he is speaking in Bella's voice as well. "Oh shit! What are we going to do? We have to tell dad!"
"Tell dad what? Are you nuts? We can't tell anyone. Everyone will think we're crazy. They'll put us in strait jackets and haul us to the funny farm." Bella replies.
"But…we…I…Bella, I don't want to stay like this!" Jacob whines.
"I don't want to stay like this either Jake, but for now, we just have to play it cool. We need to research this, try to find out if it's ever happened before. If it happened once, it can happen again." Bella answers.
So they agree to keep it on the down low. Bella takes Jacob's dirt bike, he takes her truck, and they head home.
Return to Jake's monologue.
Jesus Christ jumped up! Of all the awful shit that could happen to a guy! Now I'm stuck in a chick's body, and not the way I like to be stuck in a chick's body! I keep thinking I'm going to wake up, but I haven't so far. I have to dress like my sister, walk like her, even smell like a girl. So help me God, if we have to stay like this I will kill myself! The only good thing about it is that she is not on her period, because oh mother fucker, I couldn't handle that!
Bella is taking it ok I guess. She's been looking this kind of thing up on the internet, and trying to find out if it's ever been documented before. I'm sure it hasn't. I think I'm going to go to the Quileute elders and ask them for advice. Maybe they can point us to a shaman or something. I'm willing to try anything.
We've been staying home from school for the last couple days. I can fake it in front of dad, I mean anyone can be the moody emo girl, but I can't fake it in front of my friends. Bella thinks being me is easy. I suppose it would be easier to be me than to be her. I mean come on, I'm pretty simple and uncomplicated, Bella on the other hand….
Yesterday Jasper came by to see me, and I had to fight the temptation to go answer the door. Bella ran him off when she told him we were both sick. I hate to see myself walking around, and not be myself.
Worse of all, she's insisting that I go on her date with Edward tonight. She is warning me that if I don't go, and if I don't impress him, she will go to school on Monday wearing nothing but a pair of my CK boxer briefs. I can imagine the humiliation that will cause for me if we ever do switch back. I guess I don't have a choice. If that monkey tries to make a pass at me, I swear I will punch him right in the sack!
Back to real time
"Ok Jake, this dress will be perfect. Now remember, don't smudge the makeup, cross your legs properly, smile, laugh at all his jokes, and for God's sake, don't do anything a boy would do." Bella warns as she applies a bit of blush and some lip stick to the face that would have normally been hers.
"What? You mean I can't burp and fart after I get done eating?" Jake asks grinning up at himself.
"No God damn it! This is serious! Promise me you won't fuck this up!" She pleads tearfully.
Jake hates to see tears in his own eyes. It's not becoming on a guy, and he doesn't really want to make his sister cry.
"Ok, I was just kidding, but try to see it through my eyes, and I mean, from my position. I feel totally gay right now, and I'm about to go on a date with a guy I totally hate! I won't fuck it up, but I definitely won't be having a good time", Jake reassures his sister.
The ringing doorbell brings them both to immediate attention.
"I'll get that! Just take a minute and calm yourself." Bella states as she bounds out the door in Jake's body and saunters down the stairs with Jake's heavy steps.
Jacob stares at the reflection of Bella in the mirror in front of him. She has made this version of herself beautiful with make-up, jewelry, and a very short skirt. Jacob self-consciously pulls down on that skirt in an effort to cover up more of the exposed skin.
Oh this sucks donkey dicks! Jacob thinks as he stands in the black patent leather flats Bella put on him. She wanted heels, but that would have been a total disaster.
He makes his way down the stairs slowly, reminding himself to smile at the handsome young man standing in the doorway.
Ok, so he's not ugly, but I still fucking hate him!
"Bella, you look beautiful tonight!" Edward gushes as he reaches out to take Jake's hand. It's all Jake can do to contain his urge to draw back.
"Thank you Edward, you look nice too." Jacob forces himself to say.
"Well, you two better get going, remember Cullen, have her back by ten pm, and not one minute latter, or my dad will be after you with a rifle." Bella states in Jacob's deep rolling voice.
"You betcha." Edward replies cockily in Bella's direction as he places his arm around Jake's shoulder and leads him out the door.
Don't flinch! Jacob reminds himself, almost hysterically.
Edward helps Jacob in Bella's body into the passenger seat of his Volvo, then gets in, and starts the car.
"So, where are we going?" Jacob asks, trying to sound innocent.
"I thought we could have dinner at my place. My family is out on a camping trip, so we have the house all to ourselves." Edward replies.
"Oh", is all Jacob can answer. He was not prepared to be alone with Edward.
"Ok, but you should know, I'm not that kind of girl." Jacob states firmly.
Edward bursts into uncontrolled laughter. "Of course you aren't that kind of girl." He manages to say between snorts.
"What exactly is so funny?" Jacob asks.
"Oh nothing. Let's put on some music shall we?" Edward asks. "What do you like to listen to?"
"Papa Roach, Avenged Seven Fold, Marilyn Manson, anything like that…." Jacob starts, and then realizes that his sister Bella wouldn't like those kinds of bands.
"I mean… you know, I just thought you might like those bands Edward." Jacob states, trying to save the situation.
"I see", Edward replies. "Interesting choices Bella. I would have expected something like that from your brother, but not from you."
"Yeah um, yeah, Jake likes that kind of music I guess. Is it hot in here? I think it's hot in here. Can I open the window?" Jake asks, pulling at the collar of the pretty pink sweater he is wearing.
"Sure", Edward answers, and lowers the passenger window for Jacob.
As they drive on in silence, Jacob cannot help but notice the quirky smile playing on Edward's face. It makes him uncomfortable. Edward really is cute. Bella would probably have been climbing all over him by now.
God, how in hell am I going to pull this off? What if he wants to have sex? You told him you weren't that kind of girl! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!
The Volvo pulls up in front of the Cullen's impressive modern style house. Jacob waits as Edward walks around to open the door for him, and reaches inside to help him climb out.
"Come on, let's go inside. Are you hungry?" Edward asks.
"Yeah, I'm starved." Jake answers, then immediately regrets it.
"I mean, I could eat a little something, maybe salad?"
I'm blowing this! I know I'm blowing this!
"I was thinking steak and baked potatoes, maybe some cherry pie after that. Do you like cherry pie Bella?" Edward asks looking seductively at Bella.
I'm going to be sick!
"Um, yeah, cherry pie is good." Jacob replies, feeling his face blushing.
"I just love cherry pie!" Edward says as he runs his tongue along his lower lip. "I can remember the first time I ever ate cherry pie, it was so hot and moist, so sweet and tangy at the same time. Can you remember the first time you had cherry pie Bella?" Edward asks moving closer to Jake.
Jake takes an involuntary step back and runs into the kitchen counter, trapped with nowhere to go.
"Um, no, I can't…." Jake stammers as he tries to move past Edward.
God, is this it's like for a girl when I'm moving in on her? I swear, I will never treat a girl like this again! Jacob thinks as he looks from side to side for a way out.
Edward puts both hands on the counter on either side of Jake, effectively pinning him against the counter. Jake feels the blush creeping onto his face, and knows that sort of thing only fuels a man's fire even more. He always liked to know he was making the girl feel a little uncomfortable. All men want that kind of power. Edward clearly wanted it.
"Let me kiss you Bella, please?" Edward asks as he presses himself against Jake and moves his hands up to the sides of Jake's face.
It's ok Jacob, he thinks your Bella, and all he sees when he looks at you is Bella. Would Bella want to kiss him? Are you kidding? Of course she would. She will kill me if I fuck this up. Ok, you can do this Jakie boy, just close your eyes, and pretend.
Edward leans down, and presses his lips against Jacobs. As he deepens the kiss, he begins to grind the hardness in the crotch of his jeans against Jacob. The kiss is so hot. Jacob can't deny it. This girl's body is responding. Jacob hadn't been prepared for that. He can feel the waves of pleasure beginning to roll over this unfamiliar body, but the waves feel somewhat the same as they always did for him. He'd always wondered about that, if it was the same for a girl. He was about to find out. Edward breaks the kiss and comes up for air.
"Man Bella, you're a hell of a kisser! You got a really strong mouth for a girl! I didn't expect that." Edward gasps.
"Sorry, I didn't mean…I mean…what?" Jacob stammers.
"Come on; let's go up to my room." Edward says, and before Jake can protest, Edward scoops him up and carries him up the stairs.
Shit, this guy doesn't waste any time! What now? I'm not actually going to go through with this am I? Oh God!
Edward kicks open the door to his room, and tosses Jake onto the bed, falling down with him and pulling their bodies close together. Jake stiffens as he feels Edward's hand snaking up the back of his leg and up under the skirt, that horrible short skirt Bella had made him wear. Edward begins to tug at the frilly pink panties Bella picked out. He managed to pull them down and had them off before Jacob could stop him. Not that he could have, he was just a weak girl in Bella's body.
"Edward, I told you I'm not that kind of girl!" Jacob protests.
"I know you're not that kind of girl baby. Just relax. I promise you will enjoy this." Edward answers with a twinkle in his eyes.
He reaches up and pulls the sweater over Jakes head. Jacob understands, in that moment, how vulnerable it feels to be a girl in that situation. Edward rolls on top of him, pinning him against the sheets, and invading Jacob's mouth with his eager tongue for another hot kiss.
Jacob fights, tries to resist it, but the girl's body wants this, wants Edward.
What's the point? Bella would give in. You have to do it. You might as well enjoy it.
Jake stops trying to fight against the pleasure he is feeling in Bella's body. He gives in, and wraps his arms around Edward, tugging at Edward's shirt. Edward gets the point, and sits up, never taking his eyes off Jacob's. He pulls his shirt out of his jeans, and unbuttons it, sliding it off his shoulders to reveal his athletic body.
Yeah, whatever buddy. My body is still hotter than yours. At least it is when I'm me.
Edward reaches under Jacob and unsnaps the Victoria's Secret bra pulling it off and tossing it on the floor. Jacob wants to cover up, but he can't. Edward has already got one of those perky little tits in his mouth, sucking the life out of it and biting playfully at the hard little nipples.
Jacob gasps in Bella's voice, surprised at how pleasurable the feeling is. Edward slides one of his hands down and unzips the skirt. As he pulls it down, Jacob realizes he is completely naked in this new form. He finds he doesn't really mind.
It not like he knows he's going to be fucking me. He thinks its Bella. Does that make it all right? Am I ok with this? Yeah, I think I am.
Edward stands up beside the bed and shoves his jeans and boxers off, then climbs back in bed, pulling Jacob against him.
"Are you a virgin Bella?" He asks.
Jacob freezes. He has absolutely no idea if Bella is a virgin or not. He never thought to ask.
"Um, I…well…I don't…I'm not really sure…. I mean..." Jacob stumbles.
"You don't know if you're a virgin? What, you got drunk at a party and don't remember?" Edward laughs.
"I didn't….I…" Jacob gives up. He decides to say the first thing that comes to mind something he would have said if it was him and not Bella.
"Well, if you really want to know, why don't you stop talking about it and find out for yourself." Jacob replies snarkily.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Edward shouts, rolling all his weight onto Jacob and firing them both up with another soul kiss.
Jacob is breathless when Edward stops the kiss to move his mouth down Jacob's neck. He waits, hoping Edward will bite his nipples or suck on those firm little tits again. He is not disappointed.
Edward slides his hand down over the flat little belly, dragging his fingers through the perfectly manicured triangle of dark pubic hair, and pinches the hardening clitoris between his fingers.
Jacob wreathes on the bed. He never imagined it would feel like this.
"Oh go down on me Edward. Please, please!" He begs, and Edward is quick to answer.
"I'd be happy to do that for you, but you have to ask me the right way."
"What's the right way?" Jacob cries.
"You know." Edward answers. "I wanna hear you talk dirty."
Jacob pauses for a moment, tries to think like the guy he is. What would he want to hear? Then it comes to him.
"Edward, would you eat my pussy out for me please?" He asks in a sweet little girl voice.
"I would be delighted to." Edward answers.
Jacob grabs the sides of Edward's head, as the keening pleasure takes him over the edge. Edward is good with his tongue as those mind blowing kisses have already demonstrated, but he is even better at going down. Edward pushes two of his fingers inside the wet and ready pussy that is, and isn't really the property of its current owner.
"I've wanted to see this pussy for so long. You have no idea." Edward moans. "You're so tight, so wet, and so hot. I knew you would be."
Jacob is too far gone at this point. He is wondering if he will ever be able to be turned on with a girl again. He is solid into this. He wasn't planning to be, but he is.
"Let me fuck you Bella." Edward pleads. "I'll wear a rubber."
"Go for it." Jake answers, fully aware that Bella would probably have said something else, but not able to articulate anything more lucid.
Jacob watches as Edward retrieves a condom from the bedside table drawer, tears open the wrapper with his teeth, and slides it onto his big hard cock. He stands at the side of the bed stroking himself and looking down at Jacob who is looking back up at him through Bella's eyes.
"Help me out here girl." Edward says, reaching out and pulling Jake's head toward him.
He wants me to suck him off. Oh this is not going to be fun. Would she be good at it? You can do this Jake; just do what you would want done to you.
Jake wraps his hand around the base of Edward's cock, and tentatively takes the girth into his mouth. He finds that he can do it after all. Edward is big, but his own cock when it's hard it probably bigger than Edwards. The ache starts in his jaw, he gags a couple times, but overall, he thinks he gives pretty good service. Edward evidently thinks so too. He can't take it very long.
"Hold up! That's enough. I don't want to come in your mouth. Get on your knee's baby on the foot of the bed. I wanna do you doggie." Edward urges.
Jacob gets into the awkward position, and tries to suppress his anxiety and he feels Edward's hands on his hips. In a moment they would both find out if Bella really was a virgin. Apparently she wasn't. There was no painful tearing sensation, only a feeling of being blissfully filled. Jake loved it.
"Yes Edward, fuck me." He cries out in Bella's voice.
"I will baby. You like that big hard cock." Edward grunts between thrusts.
Jacob feels the rolling ecstatic pleasure taking him over the edge again as Edward reaches under to rub at the clit again. Jake doesn't know if he can take it. It's just almost too much. He feels himself coming again, the waves moving out over his stomach, thighs, all over. He cries out his pleasure.
"Feel good baby?" Bet you never came with anyone else like you're coming with me." Edward whispers.
You don't know the half of it!
Jacob is startled when he feels Edward pull out. He knows Edward hasn't come yet. Then he realizes what Edward has in mind when he feels pressure against another opening.
"Let me fuck you in the ass." Edward pleads.
"I don't know…" Jacob starts, but Edward doesn't wait for an answer.
Jake cries out in unbelievable pain, and is shocked when he realizes what Edward is doing.
"Stop, don't….Please!"
Edward doesn't stop.
"Relax, this isn't so bad, give it a chance." Edward coaxes.
Jacob knows this is going to hurt. He's done it with girls before. He is hearing the same encouraging lies he's told girls to get them to agree to do it. He relents, and tries to relax. Edward pushes slowly inside of him, sheathing himself completely.
Edward leans down to whisper against Jacob's ear.
"Come on Jacob, get into it."
What the fuck? Did he just call me Jacob?
He feels Edward's hand tighten in his hair, as his head is pulled up. Jacob looks straight ahead and into a mirror. He can see Edward's face directly above his, Edward's hand tangled tightly in his hair, and it's not Bella he see's looking back at him. It's his face, his reflection. Edward is smiling wickedly.
"What the hell?" It's the only thing Jacob can say. His chest is suddenly pushed down against the bed, and Edward continues his onslaught. Jacob is paralyzed with shock. He is back in his body, he can feel that, but Edward knew. He knew all along.
How did he know? He always knew! Why? Did he cause this? WTF!
Jacob is momentarily drawn out of his shocked reverie as the intensity of the sex amps up, and Edward tries to pull Jacob back into the moment.
"I told you to get into it boy! I meant it! You love this and you know it! A couple minutes ago you were begging me to eat your pussy! Now you don't have one. Still want me?" Edward teased.
Jacob couldn't answer. Edward was literally nailing him to the sheets. One moment, maybe two and Jacob felt the orgasm taking him again, the old familiar way. It was good, no it was fantastic.
"Fuck!" Jacob gasps as he collapses against the bed.
He can hear Edward taking God's name in vain behind him as he comes as well.
They lay together in Edward's bed, limbs intertwined.
"How did it happen?" Jacob asks.
"My sister Alice is one hell of a witch. She brought up the storm that caused you guys to switch." Edward answers.
"But why?" Jacob wonders aloud.
"Simple you hottie. I knew you would never give in to me. I've been watching and wanting you for a long time. I couldn't help myself. I had to have you. You're just too fucking hot! A guy shouldn't look as good as you do! I got Alice to cast the spell for me, the rest is history. Sorry it had to be so difficult for you, but you do look good in a short skirt." Edward laughs.
"Fuck you! Now what the hell am I gonna wear home?" Jacob asks.
"Jasper took care of that for me. He stold your gym clothes from your locker." Edward answers.
"He knows about this?" Jacob gasps in horror.
"Yep, but don't worry. The secret is safe with us." Edward replies.
"What am I going to tell Bella?" Jacob wonders.
"I wouldn't worry about Bella. She's been with Alice all this time. Alice can be very persuasive. She's had her eye on Bella for a while."
"Holy Crow!" Jacob exclaims. It's the only thing he can think to say.
The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to
the taxonomic family Equidae. The horse has evolved over the past 45 to 55 million years from a small multi-toed creature into the large, single-toed animal of today. Humans began to domesticate horses around 4000 BC, and their domestication is believed to have been widespread by 3000 BC. Horses in the subspecies caballus are domesticated, although some domesticated populations live in the wild as feral horses. These feral populations are not true wild horses, as this term is used to describe horses that have never been domesticated, such as the endangered Przewalski's horse, a separate subspecies, and the only remaining true wild horse. There is an extensive, specialized vocabulary used to describe equine-related concepts, covering everything from anatomy to life stages, size, colors, markings, breeds, locomotion, and behavior.
Horses' anatomy enables them to make use of speed to escape predators and they have a well-developed sense of balance and a strong fight-or-flight response. Related to this need to flee from predators in the wild is an unusual trait: horses are able to sleep both standing up and lying down. Female horses, called mares, carry their young for approximately 11 months, and a young horse, called a foal, can stand and run shortly following birth. Most domesticated horses begin training under saddle or in harness between the ages of two and four. They reach full adult development by age five, and have an average lifespan of between 25 and 30 years.
Horse breeds are loosely divided into three categories based on general temperament: spirited "hot bloods" with speed and endurance; "cold bloods", such as draft horses and some ponies, suitable for slow, heavy work; and "warmbloods", developed from crosses between hot bloods and cold bloods, often focusing on creating breeds for specific riding purposes, particularly in Europe. There are more than 300 breeds of horse in the world today, developed for many different uses.
Horses and humans interact in a wide variety of sport competitions and non-competitive recreational pursuits, as well as in working activities such as police work, agriculture, entertainment, and therapy. Horses were historically used in warfare, from which a wide variety of riding and driving techniques developed, using many different styles of equipment and methods of control. Many products are derived from horses, including meat, milk, hide, hair, bone, and pharmaceuticals extracted from the urine of pregnant mares. Humans provide domesticated horses with food, water and shelter, as well as attention from specialists such as veterinarians and farriers.
Did you know? JesuOtaku is Truly Truly Truly Outrageous.
We have Hivo, but it's a disease.
It's a horrible, horrible disease.
Oh, my.
Dumb bees!
You must want to sting all those jerks.
We try not to sting.
It's usually fatal for us.
So you have to watch your temper.
Very carefully.
You kick a wall, take a walk,
write an angry letter and throw it out.
Work through it like any emotion:
Anger, jealousy, lust.
Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?
Yeah.
- What is wrong with you?!
- It's a bug.
He's not bothering anybody.
Get out of here, you creep!
What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?
Yeah, it was. How did you know?
It felt like about 10 pages.
Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.
You've really got that
down to a science.
- I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue.
- I'll bet.
What in the name
of Mighty Hercules is this?
How did this get here?
Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,
Ray Liotta Private Select?
- Is he that actor?
- I never heard of him.
- Why is this here?
- For people. We eat it.
You don't have
enough food of your own?
- Well, yes.
- How do you get it?
- Bees make it.
- I know who makes it!
And it's hard to make it!
There's heating, cooling, stirring.
You need a whole Krelman thing!
- It's organic.
- It's our-ganic!
It's just honey, Barry.
Just what?!
Bees don't know about this!
This is stealing! A lot of stealing!
You've taken our homes, schools,
hospitals! This is all we have!
And it's on sale?!
I'm getting to the bottom of this.
I'm getting to the bottom
of all of this!
Hey, Hector.
- You almost done?
- Almost.
He is here. I sense it.
Well, I guess I'll go home now
and just leave this nice honey out,
with no one around.
You're busted, box boy!
I knew I heard something.
So you can talk!
I can talk.
And now you'll start talking!
Where you getting the sweet stuff?
Who's your supplier?
I don't understand.
I thought we were friends.
The last thing we want
to do is upset bees!
You're too late! It's ours now!
You, sir, have crossed
the wrong sword!
You, sir, will be lunch
for my iguana, Ignacio!
Where is the honey coming from?
Tell me where!
Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!
Orazy person!
What horrible thing has happened here?
These faces, they never knew
what hit them. And now
they're
Just keep still.
What? You're not dead?
Do I look dead? They will wipe anything
that moves. Where you headed?
To Honey Farms.
I am onto something huge here.
I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood,
crazy stuff. Blows your head off!
I'm going to Tacoma.
- And you?
- He really is dead.
All right.
Uh-oh!
- What is that?!
- Oh, no!
- A wiper! Triple blade!
- Triple blade?
Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!
Why does everything have
to be so doggone clean?!
How much do you people need to see?!
Open your eyes!
Stick your head out the window!
From NPR News in Washington,
I'm Oarl Kasell.
But don't kill no more bugs!
- Bee!
- Moose blood guy!!
- You hear something?
- Like what?
Like tiny screaming.
Turn off the radio.
Whassup, bee boy?
Hey, Blood.
Just a row of honey jars,
as far as the eye could see.
Wow!
I assume wherever this truck goes
is where they're getting it.
I mean, that honey's ours.
- Bees hang tight.
- We're all jammed in.
It's a close community.
Not us, man. We on our own.
Every mosquito on his own.
- What if you get in trouble?
- You a mosquito, you in trouble.
Nobody likes us. They just smack.
See a mosquito, smack, smack!
At least you're out in the world.
You must meet girls.
Mosquito girls try to trade up,
get with a moth, dragonfly.
Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.
You got to be kidding me!
Mooseblood's about to leave
the building! So long, bee!
- Hey, guys!
- Mooseblood!
I knew I'd catch y'all down here.
Did you bring your crazy straw?
We throw it in jars, slap a label on it,
and it's pretty much pure profit.
What is this place?
A bee's got a brain
the size of a pinhead.
They are pinheads!
Pinhead.
- Oheck out the new smoker.
- Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.
The Thomas 3000!
Smoker?
Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic.
Twice the nicotine, all the tar.
A couple breaths of this
knocks them right out.
They make the honey,
and we make the money.
"They make the honey,
and we make the money"?
Oh, my!
What's going on? Are you OK?
Yeah. It doesn't last too long.
Do you know you're
in a fake hive with fake walls?
Our queen was moved here.
We had no choice.
This is your queen?
That's a man in women's clothes!
That's a drag queen!
What is this?
Oh, no!
There's hundreds of them!
Bee honey.
Our honey is being brazenly stolen
on a massive scale!
This is worse than anything bears
have done! I intend to do something.
Oh, Barry, stop.
Who told you humans are taking
our honey? That's a rumor.
Do these look like
----
That's a conspiracy theory.
These are obviously doctored photos.
How did you get mixed up in this?
He's been talking to humans.
- What?
- Talking to humans?!
He has a human girlfriend.
And they make out!
Make out? Barry!
We do not.
- You wish you could.
- Whose side are you on?
The bees!
I dated a cricket once in San Antonio.
Those crazy legs kept me up all night.
Barry, this is what you want
to do with your life?
I want to do it for all our lives.
Nobody works harder than bees!
Dad, I remember you
coming home so overworked
your hands were still stirring.
You couldn't stop.
I remember that.
What right do they have to our honey?
We live on two cups a year. They put it
in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!
Even if it's true, what can one bee do?
Sting them where it really hurts.
In the face! The eye!
- That would hurt.
- No.
Up the nose? That's a killer.
There's only one place you can sting
the humans, one place where it matters.
Hive at Five, the hive's only
full-hour action news source.
No more bee beards!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You remind me of the babe
GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT??????
DICKBUTT.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And lo did the gods say onto the people:
"Follow @TheDailySnaggle on Twitter."
And so to did the gods say onto the MRA Army:
"'Not all men' is a bullshit argument, stop using it you pussies."
The MRA army did not listen and choose to deny the prophet Snagglepuss and be utter assholes to women on the internet. Such is the way of the internet and the assholes who populate it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BADADABAP BAP BADOBAP! ~YEAH~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!
You've reached the end of the page!
NOW STOP MAKING TVTROPES PAGES ABOUT REAL PEOPLE
and especially stop harassing them about their personal lives and writing gross fanfiction about them
STOP.
