SUSPENDING PLEASURES
CHAPTER 11 – MEMENTO MORI
In which it was a quiet morning at Longbourn, or it would have been, had Miss Mary not found a book.
"As the devil labours by all means to keep out other things that are good, so to keep out of the heart as much as in him lies, the thoughts of passing out of this life into another world; for he knows if he can but keep them from the serious thoughts of death, he shall the more easily keep them in their sins."
Previously, nobody had ever considered Miss Mary among one of the greatest orators of our time but when her intonation steadily rose in the beginning of the sentence, then pausing and dramatically lowering her voice to emphasize the word death it could not fail to have an effect on her listeners.
"I simply cannot see how we could think about death any more than we do," said Mr. Bennet. "It is all that anyone speaks of these days."
"I understand you are not overly worried about going into your grave early because it is nice and quiet there," said Mrs. Bennet.
"I hope I can suspend that pleasure for some time yet," said Mr. Bennet.
"But you might give a thought to what happens to us if you cannot."
"Considering my position as the heir of Longbourn, I am not going to be unreasonable," said Mr. Collins. "Especially if my dearest wish..."
"That is very good of you, Mr. Collins, and I am grateful for your reassurances," said Mrs. Bennet.
"I am certain that Charles and I will also be able to help if necessary," said Miss Bennet.
"It is a very great relief to me, to be certain, but Jane, you must understand that it is very difficult to depend on the charity of relatives. If only we had more money..."
"Money, money, money," said Miss Elizabeth. "Must be funny."
"That is all that anyone can ask of. Enough money to live on, and the salvation of our souls," said Mr. Collins. This set Miss Mary off and she began to read in mournful tones again.
"Nothing will make us more earnest in working out the work of our salvation than a frequent meditation of mortality; nothing hath a greater influence for the taking off our hearts from vanities, and for the begetting in us desires for holiness."
There was a lengthy pause, presumably to allow everyone a moment to meditate their mortality. Then, suddenly she cried out very loudly: "O! Sinner!"
Mrs. Bennet was startled and spilled her tea. "Oh, hush, Mary, will you not think of my nerves?"
"Thank you, Mary," said Mr. Bennet.
Miss Mary glanced at them darkly but would not be distracted from her purpose.
"What a condition wilt thou fall into when thou departest the world; if thou depart unconverted, thou hadst better have been smothered the first hour thou wast born; thou hadst better have been plucked one limb from the other; thou hadst better have been made a dog, a toad, a serpent, than to die unconverted; and this thou wilt find true if thou repent not..." This was delivered in a very theatrical voice, with powerful emphasis, accompanied with helpful gestures indicating what smothering a baby or plucking someone's limbs might look like.
"That will do extremely well, child," said Mr. Bennet.. "You have delighted us long enough. I did not know you have a taste for the gothic. Let us find you a less gruesome book."
"You are very focused on death these days, Mary," said Miss Bennet. "You must be rather afraid."
"It is not death we must fear but hellfire and damnation," said Miss Mary.
"Would you like to help me pack my things? I am not going to take everything, and there are some items I think that you would like."
"Oh, look, a squirrel," Miss Mary said. "I know what you are doing, Jane."
"I just think you need something to distract you from these dark thoughts."
"Yes, I know," Miss Mary said. "I'm going slightly mad."
"Really? That is terrible! Is there nothing to be done for you, cousin?"
"She is being sarcastic, Mr. Collins," said Miss Elizabeth.
"Oh, I am glad, for I do not know what Lady Catherine DeBourgh would say if there was madness running in the family..."
"Surely the sanity of people she does not know is no concern of hers," said Miss Elizabeth. "So I am certain that she would have a great deal to say about it."
"Oh yes, she is excessively attentive in all the details, and so considerate of everyone's well-being."
"You are very blessed to have her notice," said Miss Bennet.
"It is also a blessed thing that you are about to enter the blessed state of marriage soon," said Mr. Collins, "and it is my hope that I could soon join the ranks of those thusly blessed..."
"Is your tea cold, Mr. Collins?" Miss Elizabeth interrupted. "Here, do you want more bread?"
In the normal course of things, Mr. Collins hated to be interrupted but in this instance he did not mind because he did indeed want more bread.
Mr. Bennet came back with a large volume of Shakespeare's collected works and confiscated the Bunyan book Mary had been reading from earlier. "Here, you will find something amusing, I am certain."
Miss Mary looked sceptical but took the book as instructed. She closed her eyes, opened the book on a random page and picked a random passage.
"What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death," she intoned, waving an invisible sword.
"Oh, that is no good. Try again."
"I am dying, Egypt, dying! Only I here importune death a while, until of many thousand kisses the poor last I lay up thy lips."
"Miss Mary!" said Mr. Collins, scandalized. He had only half attended to the conversation while buttering his rolls. "An unmarried woman should not be speaking of kissing anyone."
"Very well," said Miss Mary and picked another page. "Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth! Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, and, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!"
After this scary recital she calmly poured herself more tea and added a small spoonful of honey.
"Well," said Mrs. Bennet. "As long as there still is more food to be had."
"Try again, maybe one of the comedies," said Mr. Bennet.
"Must die to-morrow! O injurious love, that respites me a life, whose very comfort is still a dying horror!"
"Mary, you simply cannot die tomorrow, I forbid it," said Mrs. Bennet. "There is still a lot to do before Jane's wedding. Such a hasty, careless affair! I wish we had more time."
"Love is all the sweeter without needless dithering and uncertainty, I am sure," said Miss Elizabeth. "If only the rest of us could be so lucky and fall in love at first sight and seal the deal as quickly."
"As to that, Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Collins said, "I know these are troubled times but perhaps we could speak more on that topic after breakfast..."
"Mary, is there anything on that topic in the book?" Miss Elizabeth asked quickly.
Apparently Miss Mary's muse did not have a lot of faith in her luck in love, for this was the next passage she came up with:
"Not a flower, not a flower sweet on my black coffin let there be strown; not a friend, not a friend greet my poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown! " She mimed bones being discarded. "A thousand thousand sighs to save: Lay me, o, where sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!"
"I do not believe that my patroness would approve of theatricals at the breakfast table," said Mr. Collins.
"It is very fortunate for us that she is not here then," said Mr. Bennet.
"Although I am sure that Miss DeBourgh would have been a great sensation on all the grandest stages if only she had ever learned to act."
"Perhaps she could start by reciting Shakespeare's sonnets," suggested Miss Elizabeth. "With great expression and sensibility."
"Yes, undoubtedly."
"In fact, she could read any texts aloud with the utmost proficiency."
"Exactly so."
"If only she had ever learned to read."
"Cousin Elizabeth!"
"Mr. Collins, we do understand that Miss DeBourgh is an exemplary character in every way," said Miss Bennet.
"We must pray that she survives this plague so that we might have the good fortune to see her one day," said Mr. Bennet.
"If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny..." Miss Mary said tragically.
"I am sure there must be something other than death and disease in that book. Let me try," said Miss Elizabeth and blindly picked another passage from the book Mary had been using as the oracle. "Talk not of dying: I am out of fear, of death or death's hand for this one-half year."
Mr. Bennet took his turn with the book next. "Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living," he said. Only Miss Elizabeth looked closely enough to see that the random passage he had his finger on had nothing to do with this quote whatsoever.
Miss Bennet picked a passage of her own and imbued it with an air of calmness and soothing peace. "Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well: The elements be kind to thee, and make thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well."
There was a moment of silence as everyone breathed in and out, contemplating on the kindness of elements.
"I must have my turn too. Here, mine is from All's Well That Ends Well," said Mrs. Bennet
"Oh, that sounds promising."
Mrs. Bennet stood up and took the stage. "Unpitied let me die! And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee."
That said, she left the room with a grand flourish.
"This is a very singular household," said Mr. Collins.
By this time, Mr. Bennet had realized two things: that the world had lost several great actresses when the women in his family decided not to pursue theatre careers, and that Mr. Collins had just eaten the last of the bread.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
There be stealing... the Bunyan passage that Mary was reading is from
.
the Shakespeare quotes I found through
I fiddled with some of the punctuation and capitals of the Shakespeare quotes to fit in the dialogue and the Bennets' dramatization better.
They are from Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra, Romeo and Juliet, Measure For measure, Twelfth Night, Hamlet, All's Well That Ends Well, Henry IV, and All's Well That Ends Well.
And I am still quoting from pop classics as well. My abuse of Gloria Gaynor the other day was blasphemous and I'm sorry.