A rich young man who needs a wife
is living under constant threat.
For how can one with such a life
survive in London where it's rife
with eager maids who toil and sweat
to catch a victim in their net?
Endurance must become the creed
of any man who can't decide.
He knows that hasty love can lead
to watching all his funds recede.
But where do all the nice girls hide?
If only he could find a guide.
If some young lady shows regard,
an eldest son will live in dread.
Unless his wits are kept on guard
the pressure's going to squeeze too hard.
His nagging parents want him wed
but he should play the field instead.
He needs to be more versatile
when difficulties are revealed.
To circulate is such a trial;
those greedy girls aren't worth his while.
So some young men go far afield
to see what other places yield.
But when a fellow goes to lease
a house in some old county land,
the man will never rest in peace
because his neighbours never cease
to make the very same demand:
that he must choose their daughter's hand.
In Meryton you'll find a street
where many lurking parents wait.
You'll notice there a nice retreat
called Netherfield, a place replete
with things to tempt a likely mate.
This place can be your lady-bait.
To take this house there comes a man
with happy face and sparkling eye.
This Bingley has a master plan
to check out all the girls he can.
If this is where the ladies lie,
he hopes to find a wife nearby,
His sister, though, is not so sure.
She thinks he's made a big mistake.
If it's a wife he wants to lure,
then why a place that's so obscure?
She feels that for the family's sake,
he should consider what's at stake.
And Bingley brings to his estate
a friend of quite imposing stripe,
with pedigree of heavy weight
and sense of style that's quite ornate.
This Darcy's the unmarried type;
a wealthy man who's very ripe.
Where needy women are concerned
this Darcy is a careful sort.
Through long experience he has learned
that careless men are quickly burned.
The women that he tries to court
are those who never need support.
So Darcy often takes offense
with what his best friend has in mind.
"I really hope that you'll dispense
with trying things that make no sense.
These country girls just want, you'll find,
to have a marriage licence signed."
The Meryton Assembly
Some happy news when they've arrived:
a big event inside Town Hall.
The thing on which our Bingley's thrived;
the thing of which he's been deprived.
In Meryton there'll be a ball,
the biggest ball they've had all fall.
But getting Darcy to attend
is making Bingley's collar tight.
He promised he would bring a friend
he's worried now he might offend.
But Darcy's putting up a fight:
he'd rather sit at home all night.
"I'm really in no mood right now
to fend off any girls today,
the sort of girl who pulls a plow,
whose best friend is a Jersey cow.
My hair is still in disarray,
so please don't put me on display."
"Now Darcy, look, I've had enough.
You always try this silly stunt.
No matter how you huff and puff
it's something I won't let you slough.
I'll tie you to that post out front
if you don't join this lady-hunt."
So Darcy goes and there he stands,
against a wall to hide his face.
As Bingley's toothy smile expands
he's deaf to Darcy's shrill demands
that Bingley should pick up his pace
so they can sooner leave this place.
To Darcy this is all for nought;
just rustic charm and fancy dress.
This husband-hungry room is fraught
with traps in which they might be caught.
And Bingley's sister is a mess;
she likes this party even less.
And Darcy sneers his pretty nose
when Bingley comes to rest his feet.
The partner that the latter chose
is one who strikes a pretty pose.
So Bingley's found himself a treat
for no one else is fit to meet.
The girl that Bingley's fallen for
seems quite a bit unlike the rest.
Her sisters spread across the floor;
her mother must have girls galore.
But Bingley always picks the best,
and she, of course, is quite impressed.
Now Bingley tries to get his friend
to ask some lucky girl to dance.
But Darcy wants the night to end
for now he sees a nasty trend
of women giving him a glance.
Those creatures hardly stand a chance.
So Bingley tries to twist his arm.
"You see that lady over there?
Go over, Darcy, what's the harm
in showing off your manly charm?
Admit it, man, I've seen you stare.
Now go and drag her off that chair."
Our man's already seen her here;
he knows precisely where she sits.
He thinks the reason she's so near
is that she wants to bend her ear
and eavesdrop, if the noise permits,
on all the bon mots he emits.
He'll have to put her in her place.
These brazen folk must be deterred
from always treading on his space.
He'll handle this with flawless grace
and shame her with a clever word,
the fancy sort she's never heard.
"Now Bingley, please don't try to force
a meeting with some rustic bore
whose mode of speech I'll find too coarse.
I'd sooner dance with my own horse.
I'll be here waiting by the door.
Just shake me if you hear me snore."
No sooner are his words en route,
he tries to suck them back inside.
He feels like such a nasty brute;
he's now a man of ill repute.
That girl has now run off to hide
for even yokels have some pride.
She's safely distant. She has run
to find one who's a close ally.
But what's that laughter that's begun?
Our man now starts to come undone.
But when she smiles, he can't deny
he loves the twinkle in her eye.
He had no notion danger loomed
but now her smile is such a switch.
He has a feeling he is doomed
for with her face he's now consumed.
This night began without a hitch,
but now he feels his neckhairs twitch.
He soon discovers that this girl
is sister to old Bingley's girl.
How odd that they've each found a girl
whose sister was the other's girl.
Jane Bennet is our Bingley's girl
while Lizzy B. is Darcy's girl.
But poor Miss Bingley's not amused
to be with humankind so plain.
She feels that she has been abused
and now she's really quite confused
by what her brother sees in Jane.
To marry her would reap no gain.
When they get home the lady fumes.
It took her brother one short week
to make a move that he presumes
will start a life of love and blooms.
Miss Bennet's prospects are so weak;
just think what havoc she could wreak.
And Darcy finds he must agree;
the Bennets are a dangerous bunch.
He gives his friend a guarantee:
to court these girls will not be free.
He also has a nagging hunch:
their Mom will throw a knockout punch.
Next morning they go into town
to have a little shopping spree.
They want to have a look around
this tiny nook of no renown.
And who by chance should Darcy see
but that same girl, that Lizzy B.
A meeting that should not occur,
a meeting he cannot avoid.
To walk away he'd much prefer;
she might have heard his nasty slur.
Her self-esteem might be destroyed,
so careful words should be employed.
Of course his native eloquence
should charm the shoes right off her feet.
He preaches in his own defence
but Lizzy B has too much sense.
He now predicts a bad defeat
and tries to beat a quick retreat.
This girl is not the least impressed.
How very odd to say the least.
Though he has tried his very best
he feels a knife within his chest.
Her cutting words still haven't ceased:
she calls our man a pompous beast.
"A pompous beast? Is that a fact?
Since when do I have that effect?
A nasty way for her to act.
She could've used a bit more tact.
She doesn't need to genuflect
but would it hurt to show respect?"
He'll put that upstart out of mind:
she isn't worth a second thought.
He turns to notions more refined
but all his views are undermined
by that of which he's not forgot:
the eyes like beacons that she's got.
They meet again at Lucas Lodge
where he becomes Sir William's prey.
The man's embrace he tries to dodge;
his stranglehold can't be dislodged.
He looks around at this soirée
to see if Lizzy's here today.
He has some notions to dispel
and now expects a big debate.
But Darcy's words do not compel
and Lizzy bids a quick farewell.
She makes his ego disinflate
with words as strong as armour plate.
But then she sits to sing and play
and everyone calms down to hear.
He's quite surprised to see the way
she offers such a fine display.
His eye begins to shed a tear;
the sweetest voice he's heard all year.
A Surprise at Netherfield
At home he starts to reminisce.
How can that girl have this effect?
He knows that things can go amiss
whenever he is trapped like this.
This country girl shows no respect.
What sort of man does she expect?
Oh, what Miss Bingley can contrive!
A plot to show she's so polite.
She asks Jane Bennet to arrive
to dine with her at half past five.
She sends the men out for the night
to keep that twosome out of sight.
The two young gents return to find
that Bingley's Jane is ill upstairs.
Miss Bingley now is in a bind:
her brother might get too entwined.
With any luck and many prayers
Miss Jane will heal and ease her cares.
But Bingley starts to scream and shout;
his angry face is quite a fright.
"You brought her here when I was out?
Your scheming I can do without!"
His knuckles start to turn all white,
but sister's not the least contrite.
But Darcy doubts the Bennet Mom;
this sounds like one of her affairs.
That she would make her daughter come
in pouring rain is worrisome.
But do you know why Darcy cares?
He wishes Lizzy was upstairs.
Next morning, though, a girl arrives,
a girl, bedraggled, full of mud.
That sodden journey she survived
to see if Jane was still alive.
When Darcy sees who faced that flood
his all-too-heavy heart goes thud.
Now Darcy's mind is tossed and torn,
for Lizzy's here to care for Jane.
Although her wit is like a thorn,
her presence makes him feel reborn.
But since the weather's pouring rain
they all insist that she remain.
When evening comes they play at whist,
a game he plays at rapid pace.
At times he has to clench his fist
when Lizzy plays a card he missed.
He tries so hard to save his face,
but Lizzy always trumps his Ace.
Then Mrs. Bennet comes to spy
and see about her daughter's health.
She takes a look in Bingley's eye
to judge the zeal his stares imply.
She glances 'round with practiced stealth;
she's still impressed with Bingley's wealth.
But Bingley's sister is aghast:
her brother has just made a splash.
That cheeky Mrs. B harassed
and Bingley now submits at last.
Now he and sister soon will clash;
he told their Mom he'd throw a bash!
When Jane at length can leave her room
Miss Bingley sounds much less distraught.
But now the house has lost its bloom
and Darcy walks about this tomb
with Lizzy in his every thought;
his fancy pants are in a knot.
How far it is your thoughts can range
when too much idle time goes by.
Miss Lizzy was a healthy change;
the empty house will feel so strange.
Engaging talk will soon run dry
for wit is now in short supply.
Relieving boredom can be hard
when all your thoughts lie somewhere else.
Our able two must be on guard
for both their hearts have gotten scarred.
But stuffy places still repulse,
so riding is their next impulse.
To Meryton is where they go,
all proud and puffy on their steeds.
Those girls are there; they say hello,
but with them is an evil foe.
It's Wickham, one whose nasty needs
have brought about horrendous deeds.
Of Wickham they must all beware.
The sight of him makes Darcy green.
He looks at Wickham's friendly air
and seems as if about to swear.
Our Darcy causes quite a scene.
What can this awful business mean?
The Bennet family must be warned.
Of Wickham's past they're unaware.
That man must now be quickly scorned
or else more victims will be mourned.
It's certain that he'll cause a scare.
Against him they don't have a prayer.
He preys on women left and right;
he's always been the desperate sort.
His friendly manner's always right
to give the ladies great delight.
The ladies that he likes to court
are those with funds he can extort.
Why just last year old Wickham tried
to carry Darcy's sister off.
So like a fiend he had to ride
to stop the two from being tied.
Then Wickham's head he tried to doff;
that mountebank could only scoff.
But should he bother telling them?
What danger are they really in?
What sort of mess could Wickham stem?
The Bennet house is not a gem.
Their small estate's not much to win.
Their situation's pretty thin.
But Wickham now has joined the ranks;
his Colonel needs a prompt alert.
When Darcy tells of Wickham's pranks
that officer should offer thanks.
He'll render Wickham quite inert
when Darcy mentions all that dirt.
The Netherfield Ball
At Netherfield the day's arrived;
the promised ball is here at last.
The merriment and joy will thrive;
the servants number ninety-five.
The drink and dance and lush repast
will make the evening quite a blast.
This ball is what the people want;
they've all put on their fancy clothes.
For farmers it's a lively jaunt;
they have their Sunday best to flaunt.
Miss Bingley, though, with turned-up nose,
would never dance with one of those.
The Bennets soon arrive in force;
when fun's involved they're quite devout.
And Jane and Lizzy come of course,
for dancing's something they endorse.
They're all prepared to sing and shout,
and even their Papa turns out.
As soon as people start to dance
it's time to get to what's at hand.
Our man sees Lizzy in a trance
and so he starts his bold advance.
But quickly he will understand
that nothing here will go as planned.
For Lizzy doesn't notice him;
it seems that she is on a search.
Her lovely face is rather grim;
his chance of any luck is slim.
He may as well stay on his perch;
she's going to leave him in the lurch.
"It can't be Wickham she would want.
If he shows up I'll have him trounced.
He's likely in some vulgar haunt
but he may come to try and taunt.
I will not hear his name pronounced.
If he comes here I'll have him bounced."
He catches her as she runs by;
his manly frame she can't ignore.
She's trying hard to say goodbye;
she wants to leave him high and dry.
But now his biceps block the door,
so she consents to take the floor.
But now his mouth is full of salt;
his hardship isn't well-disguised.
He'd better not find too much fault
with someone that she might exalt.
To try to keep her well apprised,
might make him look uncivilized.
Perhaps he should avoid a strike
and just let Wickham hang himself.
She's sure to find out what he's like
and then she'll have him take a hike.
It's best that he restrain himself,
so Darcy leaves it on the shelf.
But then she starts with some detail
and tries to talk of this or that.
She makes a reference very veiled
to Wickham's sad and sorry tale.
But Darcy will have none of that;
their lively talk has fallen flat.
So Wickham's tongue has gone and lied.
How can our Darcy still allow
the stories that the man implied?
His sordid tales should be denied.
But there's no point in trying now;
that Wickham's like a sacred cow.
The final dance has now begun;
it's almost time to say farewell.
Miss Bingley is so glad it's done,
she's no more farmers to outrun.
But Darcy doesn't feel too swell;
his Lizzy spat did not go well.
Now Bingley's sister jabs a knife
to add more grief to Darcy's woes.
The Bennets' cousin needs a wife,
a partner for his cleric life.
A man that Darcy hardly knows
will go to Lizzy and propose.
Miss Bingley heard this, every word,
while sneering at the noisy crowd.
The girl the rector had preferred
was Jane, but that was quite absurd,
for Mrs. Bennet said out loud
that Bingley soon would make her proud.
There's nothing left for Darcy now.
The time for waiting now has passed.
He sits and rubs his furrowed brow;
his deep concerns he won't avow.
The ruling has been made at last:
they have to leave this place, and fast.
Now let's leave Hertfordshire a while
and see what makes our Darcy tick.
Though Jane had shown a certain style,
he didn't like her mother's guile.
So hoping for a better pick,
he made sure Bingley's flight was quick.
But life in town is quite mundane
as even Bingley will agree.
The stubborn man will not refrain
from pining over lovely Jane.
And when our Darcy's thoughts are free,
his mind returns to Lizzy B.
But suddenly the spring is here
and Darcy has some dreadful chores.
The worst occasion of the year:
a plan to which he must adhere.
An irksome trip that he abhors,
but woe to him if he ignores.
For Darcy's aunt (with daughter Anne),
is one whose ego is profuse.
Her rector is that very man
who dared to ask for Lizzy's hand.
This Lady Cat is not much use
unless you want to hear abuse.
Now how can Darcy go to Kent
and travel through that dreaded gate?
To see Miss Lizzy with that gent
will make his spinal cord go bent.
To gaze at her in such a state
would be a fate he'd surely hate.
But since she's made that awful choice
he might as well just sit and gloat.
He'd like to use his sneering voice
to show her how they all rejoice.
That rector, though, that silly goat,
he'd like to seize him by the throat.
Now Lady Cat has always said
that her dear sister had insisted
that their two children must be wed.
That's just the thing that they both dread.
No matter how his aunt persisted
the two of them have long resisted.
He asks his cousin to confide
and Anne writes back with this decree:
it seems the rector's brand new bride
will have a friend who will reside
with her at Hunsford. So there's three:
the pastor, wife, and Lizzy B.
He reads that letter twice and thrice.
This news makes Darcy drop his jaw.
So Lizzy didn't roll the dice;
she knew that man would not suffice.
So Darcy thinks of her with awe;
that girl has not a single flaw.
That letter's full of splendid news.
His feelings he must now obey,
and on to Kent our man will cruise,
for this time Darcy cannot lose.
Without her family in the way
his best foot will be on display.
His carriage is not fast enough;
he might jump out and run the rest.
This journey will be very rough
but Darcy's made of sterner stuff.
Like Bingley he is now obsessed.
He wants that Lizzy in his nest.
He brings to Kent a confidant;
the Colonel: cousin, just like Anne.
If female facts are what you want,
you'll find the Colonel's mind a font.
So praise for Lizzy should be banned;
the Colonel is a lady's man.
This trip is Lady Cat's design,
but this time, though, he can't complain.
He pours himself a glass of wine
and drifts about her eerie shrine
while thoughts of Lizzy crowd his brain;
he wants to see her face again.
As he and Colonel reminisce
about the tales this mansion holds,
he wonders if his life's abyss
will ever lead to wedded bliss.
And as this trip to Kent unfolds
he'll see how well his nerve upholds.
The leisure time this house provides
reminds them of their misspent youth.
From room to room the twosome glides
when round a turn our man colides
with Lizzy B -- it's most uncouth,
for on her dress he spills vermouth.
He tries at once to introduce
his smiling cousin, Colonel Fitz.
But such a move is quite obtuse
for now he's let his cousin loose
to take her arm, and Lizzy sits
as close to Fitz as Fitz permits.
For Fitz had seen old Darcy's scowl
and thought he'd be a helpful chap.
He's often seen his cousin growl
when some young lady's on the prowl.
He'll help the two avoid a scrap;
between them there is such a gap.
"Now see here, Darcy, just ignore
these afternoons our aunt demands.
I know you find them such a bore.
With country folk you've no rapport.
I'm sure Miss Bennet understands.
I'll gladly take her off your hands."
So every time that Lizzy comes
to Lady Cat's it never fails
that Darcy sits around and drums
his fingers while Miss B succumbs
to Colonel Fitz's lurid tales
of army life and its travails.
She stands up well to Lady Cat;
his aunt can't get the upper hand.
She can't keep up with Lizzy's chat
so all her vain remarks fall flat.
The Lady cannot understand
how in her house she's lost command.
Now Lady Cat is quite surprised
that Darcy is so prompt for tea.
His company is highly prized
but his delight is ill-disguised.
He's always there at stroke of three.
Come rain or shine that's where he'll be.
His eyes won't leave Miss Bennet's face.
His deep regard is cause for fear.
His love for Anne? There's not a trace.
To Lady Cat, a big disgrace.
So Darcy's aunt won't shed a tear
when Lizzy Bennet's gone from here.
He meets Miss Lizzy on the way
as she is strolling through the park.
He has no notion what to say
but Lizzy always saves the day.
She always has the right remark;
her clever words have such a spark.
So Darcy has fulfilled his quest;
Miss Bennet is to be his bride.
With all objections laid to rest
and all the grace with which he's blessed
he'll march right in there open-eyed
and she'll march out right by his side.
Oh, he is such a generous man
to overlook her crucial flaws.
He'll give her anything he can
and offer her a family plan.
He stops and waits for her applause
but Lizzy starts to bare her claws.
She seems to be a little miffed;
to his affection she is blind.
Her sharp response is rather swift;
she's not enamoured of this gift.
His brilliant scheme will now unwind;
to his surprise she has declined.
Composure doesn't last too long;
his faculties are quite remote.
Her attitudes were rather strong,
but in some things, completely wrong.
So this whole evening he'll devote
to writing her a little note.
Here Darcy now explains his views
and tells her how he's fought his pain
and how he's willing to excuse
the things that he had stood to lose.
But since this letter sounds so vain,
he crumples it and starts again.
Back in London
Just two days hence the men have fled
and Colonel thinks he understands
what Darcy and Miss Lizzy said
while huddled in that little spread.
He thinks that Darcy took her hand,
and wedding vows will soon be planned.
He's somewhat right, as we all know,
but Darcy's in no mood for chat.
It's Colonel's fault that he's so low
so Darcy lands a nasty blow.
They've often had a fight like that;
it's just a little family spat.
"But, Darcy," Colonel says right quick,
"I told the woman every shred
of Bingley's case, your clever trick
that saved him from a deadly pick."
"That's just the problem," Darcy said.
"And thanks to you I'm still unwed."
But just before the two can blink
a man walks in upon the scene.
It's Bingley, feeling in the pink,
who just popped in to have a drink.
But when he hears who Darcy's seen
he quickly turns a shade of green.
"You made me leave my Jane behind,
and then her sister reappears.
What kind of friend would rob me blind
when Jane is all I want, combined?
You've left my spirit in arrears;
I've half a mind to box your ears!"
"You're right, my friend," old Darcy said.
"When Lizzy was in Kent we spoke.
In matters where I dared to tread
the lady tore me to a shred.
She thought I was a pompous joke,
and all my plans went up in smoke."
"So neither girl is what we want.
The Bennet name is not for us.
It's social functions we should haunt;
perhaps we'll find a debutante."
Now here's where Bingley starts to fuss.
"We have a few things to discuss."
"Now Darcy, pray, I want to know
why you were so insistent that
I quit that lavish house up north
and leave behind my lovely Jane
and wind up feeling so forlorn
that I can think of no one else."
"But Bingley, think how many times
some sweet young thing's led you astray?
Two men like us, still in our primes,
are open to all sorts of crimes.
If Mrs. B had had her way
she'd have our heads served on a tray."
The men shook hands, and guaranteed
that things were back to what they were.
"I know, my friend, just what we need:
a trip up north with lightning speed."
And Bingley said, "I do concur,
but late July I much prefer."
Lugubrious in London
So Darcy now is back in town
and once again he's social prey.
At big soirées he has a frown
for anyone who wears a gown.
Whenever someone turns his way
he has to keep the wolf at bay.
His every thought goes back to her;
he finds it hard to concentrate.
Obsession makes his mind a blur;
all other thoughts he must defer.
So he will just sit back and wait.
Have patience, man! It will abate.
His mem'ry knows a simpler time
when ladies acted very bold.
Young Darcy then was in his prime
and most young women tried to climb
all over him to get ahold
of Darcy's luscious life of gold.
But he'd just brush those girls away
and turn around and act aloof.
That silly game was fun to play;
he'd always win, to their dismay.
Avoiding any social goof,
his manner was beyond reproof.
There was that time when he was stung
and Darcy almost hit the mat.
The wedding bells were being rung
when he first heard her shrewish tongue.
A girl who sounds like Lady Cat?
So Darcy said, "Enough of that!"
And that girl Constance was a treat,
and quite an air that she evinced.
Whenever they had chanced to meet
her gossip was so indiscreet.
And though her father was a prince
the thought of her still makes him wince.
How do you get to know a girl
when all she does is smile and flirt?
For even if her dad's an earl
a wicked temper might unfurl.
You always have to be alert
if you don't want to lose your shirt.
You have to make her lose her cool;
discover that which gets her irked.
And even though it's awfully cruel
he follows now this golden rule:
You need to be a nasty jerk
to see if she will go berserk.
The one young lady still around
is Bingley's sister, guaranteed
to make our Darcy run aground.
No worse opponent can be found.
No matter where his travels lead,
she keeps returning like a weed.
"I have no time for you, my friend."
He's often used that very line.
Miss Bingley, though, can't comprehend;
her bold advances never end.
And even though he does decline,
she seems to think she's next in line.
What virtue does Miss Lizzy lack?
What sort of girl does that suggest?
He never saw her blow her stack
by trying to hold her temper back.
Her poise had left him so impressed,
this country girl has passed the test.
And how that girl just loves to talk,
but not about the usual stuff.
She's got perception like a hawk;
the things she says cause quite a shock.
To lead her on is very tough
for she will always call your bluff.
Yet Lizzy is the sweetest thing.
The wonder that her name evokes!
He's seen the joy her voice can bring
when people come to hear her sing.
And children love her silly jokes
and all the laughter she provokes.
He noticed many times last fall
that children want to stay awake
when Lizzy comes at night to call.
She has those moppets in her thrall.
So Darcy's love is no mistake.
Oh, what a mother she would make!
Miss Lizzy is the very kind
of sister his own sister needs.
For Georgiana's peace of mind,
she needs a life much less confined.
Her restlessness came from the seeds
that idle time so often breeds.
He knows why Lizzy spurned his hand;
he senses how she could resist.
She didn't like the life he planned,
and so his search must now expand.
And yet it hurts, the chance he missed,
to taste those lips he never kissed.
Off to Pemberley
They'd like to change their dull routine
because the men are now immune
to London's charms, and change of scene
is what they need to intervene.
But summer's here, and not too soon.
Perhaps a trip is opportune.
So off to Darcy's house they go.
But ever since this trip began a
nasty humour starts to throw
his mood into an all-time low.
For Darcy's sister Georgiana
is making this trip no Nirvana.
For every time they hit a bump
his sister always finds a fault
with Bingley's sister, who's a grump.
That lady they should go and dump.
Her nagging speech is like assault
when one is stuck inside that vault.
He'd like to calm his jangling nerves
but cannot seem to find a way.
Miss Bingley keeps on throwing curves;
he can't get rest that he deserves.
His feelings he will not betray:
Miss Bingley's in her seat to stay.
The only thought that makes him smile
is what his life had almost been:
a walk with Lizzy down the aisle,
a lifetime led in thrilling style.
This girl, though, he can never win.
His prospects now are pretty thin.
They stop for half an hour to eat
and Bingley takes his friend aside.
His thoughts of Jane will not retreat.
The man will not admit defeat.
On Darcy's word he had relied
but love for Jane will not subside.
Now Darcy has a sudden thought:
that now perhaps he should confess
that Jane still thinks of him a lot.
That girl would love to tie the knot.
With Lizzy he's had no success.
Of both their lives he's made a mess.
But what if Bingley's chances soared
and wedding bells were duly heard?
He'd see again the one adored,
he'd see her laugh while he's ignored.
Her iron will still undeterred,
to him she'd utter not a word.
He'd have to keep his chin up high,
his upper lip all stiff and stern,
not even try to catch her eye,
as if the memory's high and dry.
He'd wear a look of unconcern
but deep inside his heart would burn.
His dreary life has now been stalled.
He has to bolt and break away.
He'll tell them all he's just recalled
a new valet who's been installed,
and Pemberley's in disarray.
"Excuse me please, I can't delay."
Before Miss Bingley can protest
he's stomping on the lady's feet
to leave the carriage and divest
himself of chatter he'll detest.
But Georgiana smells deceit
and wants to join his quick retreat.
So Georgiana steps outside
and wants to know if she can come.
"The meanest thing you've ever tried!
You see who I now sit beside?
My ringing ears are getting numb.
That valet story's pretty dumb!"
His sister's fate is on his mind
until he hears Miss B complain.
"Oh, Mr. Darcy, can't you find
another way to solve this bind?
The countryside is so mundane.
I need you here to keep me sane."
Now what, oh what, should Darcy do?
He has to leave this female pair.
"Now Georgiana, don't construe
my leaving as a slight to you.
The roads are in such disrepair;
a bumpy ride will muss your hair."
But Georgiana counts to ten;
this little girl is not a fool.
"If you don't free me from this den
I'll never speak to you again!
The cost for treating me so cruel:
a solid gold piano stool!"
He's on his horse; he's on his way!
He's feels a thrill he can't describe.
But now he has a debt to pay;
it's worth it just to get away.
His sister actually wants a bribe!
These women are a ruthless tribe.
The welcome prize that he has won:
a night of sleep in his own bed,
alone, of course, without the one
that would've made his life such fun.
For thoughts like those he's too well-bred.
We'd better leave those dreams unsaid.
He's riding hard. He won't complain;
he clearly likes the exercise.
To concentrate on life's a strain
for Lizzy's words still haunt his brain.
How could he squander such a prize?
How can he live without those eyes?
Just out beyond those hills so near
lies Pemberley, still looking well,
but now perhaps a bit austere;
it's been neglected all this year.
Without a mistress, empty shell;
without his Lizzy -- bloody hell!
He needs to sit and rest his feet
and ponder this completely through.
He walks to where the pathways meet
beside his hidden forest retreat,
a spot that gives him strength anew
whenever wisdom's overdue.
He enters in and softly treads
around his dim secluded lair.
He looks to where the garden spreads
and wanders through its flower beds
to find his favourite resting chair,
and finds Miss Lizzy sitting there.
He cannot breathe; he can't believe;
he trembles as he stares at her.
This vision that his eyes perceive;
what fantasies his mind can weave.
But are his riding skills so poor
that now he's back in Hertfordshire?
A hundred thoughts now crowd his brain;
a million things are intertwined.
Miss Bennet had once shown disdain
for something she had thought insane.
His offer she had once declined.
But has this girl now changed her mind?
[...to be continued...]