Jane -
Jane: I … I am to blame!
Elizabeth -
Elizabeth: For it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife!
Mary -
Mary: Sluuuuuumber, dear maid….
Yes, thank you Mary. And the two youngest, Kitty and Lydia -
Kitty and Lydia: Aaaaahhhh-mmmMMMmmmm….
As you can see, two of the silliest girls in England.
Fortunately, two very eligible men moved into the neighborhood: Mr. Bingley, a man whose good manners and kind nature recommended him wherever he went, and Mr. Darcy (as he calls himself) whose haughty manners, pride and conceit were continually giving offense. A third single gentleman soon appeared on the horizon - what a fine thing for Mrs. Bennet's girls! And though this young man was not as pleasing as one could hope, Mrs. Bennet was undaunted.
Mr. Beveridge's Maggot
Jane and Mr. Bingley were fast becoming an item and all who watched them dance were quite sure there would be a certain desirable event soon taking place. What congratulations would flow in then, eh? Capital! Capital! But Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy (as he calls himself) were not quite seeing eye-to-eye on any number of topics.
I Believe We Must Have Some Conversation
Soon afterward, both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy quit Meryton with no idea of ever returning. Poor Jane. I would not have you blame Jane! I am sure she did all in her power to secure Mr. Bingley.
Jane: But… I … I am to blame!
Mr. Collins' patroness was Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself, a most impressive woman who took particular notice of the happenings in the neighborhood. Whenever any of the cottagers were disposed to be quarrelsome, discontented or too poor, she sallied forth into the village to settle their differences, silence their complaints, and scold them into harmony and plenty. Nothing was beneath her notice; she was all condescension!
Well, who should visit but Lady C's dear nephews, Mr. Darcy (as he calls himself) and Col. Studmuffin Fitzwilliam. Seems Darcy had been bewitched, bothered and bewildered by Lizzy's fine eyes and he begged her to relieve his suffering and consent to be his wife. Sounds very romantic, does it not? Well…
Darcy needs some remedial training in the romance department, does he not? Eventually Elizabeth went back home to Longbourn only to find that Lydia, that foolish, headstrong girl! had whinged her parents into letting her go to Brighton, where, it is rumored, there is to be found a whole campful of soldiers.
I do worry about her, do you not? Ah well. Very soon Elizabeth was on pleasure bent again, this time a visit to The Peaks in the company of her aunt and uncle, the Gardiners. One of the fine homes, richly furnished that they visited was Pemberley - what a fine name for an establishment! Pemberley, as you must know, is the home of Mr. Darcy (as he calls himself). Elizabeth's view of the man had improved upon closer acquaintance and she was quite taken with his beautiful grounds.
Mr. Darcy arrived at Pemberley unexpectedly, and dirty, tired and frustrated, he decided to cool off.
Things looked quite promising for our couple when suddenly, Elizabeth received a letter from Jane telling her that Lydia had left all her friends - had eloped - had thrown herself in the power of Mr. Wickham! gasp! Oh thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia! Soon Elizabeth was back home where her mother was having such flutterings and spasms and Jane - well…
Jane: I… I am to blame!
Yes, I think it time to say it. I blame Jane.
Everyone: And I'm sure she blames herself!
Quite. Mr. Bennet and the Gardiners went to London in search of Lydia and Mr. Wickham. Ah, the Gardiners. They are such nice people!
So, Lydia and Mr. Wickham were married and sent off to the North and so, as the French have it, adieu. Shortly thereafter Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy (as he calls himself) came back into the neighborhood! Soon Mr. Bingley had proposed to Jane. And Mr. Darcy? Well, he had been practicing his proposal technique. Let us see if he has improved.
Well, who could turn down a proposal such as that? Elizabeth could not. The two couples were married, and lived, as one would assume, happily ever after. And Mrs. Bennet was relieved to have three daughters married, dramatically lessening her fears of starving in the hedgerows.
