“That is an excellent idea,” she said. “I am sure that the officers will be very happy to participate. Indeed, they will be gratified by the honour of being included in our theatricals. We shall have no trouble filling all the roles.”
“Then it is settled,” Mr. Bingley declared happily. “We have our play.”
“But there is a scene in which Benedick kisses Beatrice,” Mr. Darcy protested. “We cannot have that sort of thing in a private performance.”
Mr. Bingley waved away this objection as well. “We can make some adjustment for the sake of propriety. They might pretend to kiss, or he could kiss her hand instead.”
“A pretend kiss could easily be done,” Miss Bingley agreed. “Now as to the roles, I will be Beatrice.”
“I would like to be Claudio if I may,” Mr. Bingley said.
Leaving Benedick for me, Mr. Darcy thought. It was like being trapped in a spider’s web. Miss Bingley had him where she wanted him, and there was nothing he could do. Even if he argued that he wanted to be Claudio, she would suddenly decide that Hero was just the part for her. Actually, now that he thought of it, that would be a preferable pairing. As the secondary pair, Claudio and Hero had far less lines together, and the gentleman’s wooing was done for him. But this was irrelevant. Mr. Darcy was not going to rudely lay a claim to his friend’s chosen part.
Mr. Bingley, presumably taking silence as assent, now turned to Jane and said, “Do you think you could manage Hero? I can see you in that role better than anybody.”
Both his sisters looked at him in shock. Mr. Darcy saw their discomfort, which he perceived was on two counts: whisking away the second most significant female role from Mrs. Hurst, and the casting of Jane as the romantic interest of Bingley’s character. He was himself a little concerned about the latter.
Mr. Bingley remained oblivious to their consternation, however. He next turned to Elizabeth and asked, “Would you rather be Ursula or Margaret?”
“I shall be Ursula,” Mrs. Hurst immediately declared, giving Elizabeth no chance to choose. “I refuse to play Margaret. She is a detestably low character.”
Mr. Bingley looked unhappy. “I had not thought of that. There is indeed a lowness to her behavior and some rather strong innuendo in her lines.” He sighed. “Perhaps we ought to choose something else.”
“There seems to be some sort of objection to every play we have come up with,” Miss Bingley said. “Other people do not have so much trouble with their theatricals. I think we should just do Lover’s Vows like I suggested in the first place.”
“That play is the one to which I have the most objections,” Mr. Bingley said.
“There is no need to think of another play,” Elizabeth said. “I am willing to play Margaret. She is rather vulgar, but many plays have some part of that sort, and after all, it is only a role. One may be anybody on a stage without it meaning anything.”
Very true, Mr. Darcy thought. If only Miss Bingley were of the same mind.
“Are you quite certain?” Mr. Bingley asked. “I would not want you to feel uncomfortable.”
She assured him that her comfort was not in danger, and he brightened with relief.
Mr. Darcy thought this generous of her. He guessed that she really did not care for the part, but unlike Mrs. Hurst, her response had been gracious and accommodating.
“We can make some adjustment to your lines if you like,” he offered in an effort to ease her feelings, and he was pleased to receive a look of appreciation in return.
For his own salvation, he now turned to a different tack. As the play was obviously settled, his best option was to secure a role other than Benedick. “Well, if you are determined to find enough people for this play, then I would like to bespeak Don Pedro for myself,” he said to Mr. Bingley.
“No, no,” Miss Bingley cried. “You must be Benedick. That part is perfectly made for you. I am sure that none of the officers would do it half as well. Anyway, I would not like to act opposite somebody with whom I have only a slight acquaintance.”
With that declaration, she made it ungentlemanly for Mr. Darcy to refuse. He was compelled to accept the role of Benedick. He was dubious about his Beatrice and wished that they had not so many scenes together, nor that he had to declare himself to be in love with her; however, his fate had been settled. At least it was a part that he could like, and most importantly, temptation would not be thrown in his way.
Benedick and Margaret had little to do with each other, which was just how things should be between him and Elizabeth. They would only have a few lines together. There was nothing to fear in that. Of course, those few lines were flirtatious ones.
Heaven help me. I am doomed. Doubly doomed.
CHAPTER 5
…a fellowship in a cry of players?
HAMLET, ACT III, SCENE II
On opposite sides of the room, two heads were bent over, and two pens moved across two sheets of paper. Mr. Darcy was writing to his bookseller in order to obtain numerous copies of their play, and Elizabeth was writing to her mother for the consent of which she was already in no doubt.
“Miss Bingley is eager for theatricals and has asked us to take parts in a play,” she wrote. “We have been invited to remain here for the duration of our rehearsals.”
Not wanting to encourage an increase in her mother’s expectations, which were already excessively high, she deliberately refrained from mentioning that it had actually been Mr. Bingley’s desire to have them stay longer. This phrasing, which only slightly skewed the truth, made it sound as though the invitation had been given by his sister.
She also wrote nothing of the play or their roles, preferring not to reveal that Jane’s character was to be the romantic interest of Mr. Bingley’s. Her mother would read a great deal into that. Elizabeth had herself been pleased to see his eagerness for having Jane play Hero to his Claudio, and she thought it an excellent sign of his having great affection for her sister, but that was an opinion best kept to herself.
She glanced at the pair of them now. They were still absorbed in each other’s company and glowing with exceptional happiness. It did appear that everything boded well for a match between the two of them.
They were talking about the pleasure of acting, and she heard Jane say, “We often act a play when our relatives visit Longbourn at Christmas.”
Elizabeth smiled in recollection of those pleasant occasions. Her aunt and uncle were also fond of acting, and they had spent many happy hours together in that pursuit.
“We must invite your family to come and watch us perform our play,” Mr. Bingley said with an enthusiasm which caused his sisters to look at him with fresh dismay.
Jane replied that they would undoubtedly be delighted by such an invitation, but Elizabeth felt dubious about having them for an audience. Her younger sisters were incapable of sitting quietly for so long. It would not surprise her if, in the middle of the play, Lydia suddenly started talking with complete disregard for the actors.
Probably at a key moment, she thought. Like Mr. Darcy’s soliloquy. I can imagine it all too well. He will be dreadfully affronted, and I shall be mortified.
Setting aside this horrible idea, Elizabeth concentrated upon writing a list of things which she and Jane desired to have sent to Netherfield. As she did so, Mr. Bingley made another suggestion, which was very much to her liking.
“Perhaps your father would like to take the part of Leonato,” he said to Jane.
“I am certain that he would,” she answered. “He is very fond of acting.”
He was indeed. Comic roles were his preference, and he particularly enjoyed playing a fool. In fact, Elizabeth recalled him having once played Dogberry, the absurd constable in Much Ado about Nothing. He had been very amusing in the part. He would not object to a more serious role, however, and Leonato was not without some comic opportunities as well.
“He was Sir Toby Belch at Christmas,” Jane was saying now, “and Sir William Lucas was Sir Andrew Aguecheek.�
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“We must offer Sir William a role too,” Mr. Bingley said. “Perhaps he would like to be Antonio.”
Elizabeth thought that he would. Sir William was fond of entertainment in many forms.
“Do we really need any more actors?” Miss Bingley asked. “The officers should be sufficient.”
Evidently, she would rather have the lowest officers than the local knight, which did not surprise Elizabeth. She had seen that Sir William’s effusive manners and trivial conversation were not agreeable to Mr. Bingley’s sisters.
“It is not a matter of need, but of returning Sir William’s particularly generous hospitality,” Mr. Bingley said. “I shall definitely invite him.”
“Might I make a request?” Mr. Darcy asked. “I was just thinking that my cousin would like to join us in our theatricals. Perhaps he could take the part of Don Pedro if that suits you.”
“Your cousin the viscount?” Miss Bingley cried eagerly.
Mr. Darcy’s cousin was a viscount? This explained his pride and haughty manner. But Elizabeth was surprised that he had never spoken of the connection. One would expect him to be very proud of having relatives among the nobility.
“My other cousin,” he said, causing Miss Bingley to look disappointed, but only a little.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam is very welcome here,” she said with obvious satisfaction at having any member of Mr. Darcy’s family in her home. “He must indeed be Don Pedro.”
“The role would be fitting to his rank,” Mrs. Hurst said.
Elizabeth found this fixation upon status amusing. Casting plays according to rank could be a tricky business, fraught with the potential for causing offense.
“It would be a pleasure to have him here,” Mr. Bingley said. “Do invite him to join us, Darcy. He will be very welcome.”
Elizabeth wondered about the truth of this. Mr. Darcy’s cousin was probably just as proud and arrogant as he was. Perhaps even more so as the son of an earl. But then Mr. Bingley was the kind of person who could like anybody. His friendship with Mr. Darcy had often seemed puzzling to her; however, it was evident that they were very good friends.
She was not looking forward to meeting this unknown gentleman, however. It would not surprise her if, in addition to being excessively proud, he also had his cousin’s taciturn disposition. It was very likely that his inclusion would make for another disagreeable member of their party. Thank goodness Mr. Bingley had suggested a role for her father, whose presence would be particularly welcome to her in these conditions. Even Sir William, who tended to talk too much and too foolishly, would be a comfortably familiar face. The officers should be a valuable addition as well. They were a friendly and cheerful group of men.
Having finished her note, she started upon another for the purpose of relaying Mr. Bingley’s offer to her father. At the same time, Mr. Darcy, having sealed the letter to his bookseller, began upon one to his cousin.
“Madness abounds here,” he wrote. “We are to act Much Ado About Nothing along with anybody who is willing to play a role. I beg of you to take pity upon me and hasten here to join our company so that there will be one more person in it who is not practically a stranger to me. Mr. Bingley looks forward to seeing you, and his sisters have expressed a great desire to have you here.”
He had also not been surprised by Miss Bingley’s enthusiasm for extending that invitation. Any member of the aristocracy was always certain of being a very welcome guest in her home.
“You will find two other young ladies staying here as well,” he informed his cousin. “They are the daughters of a local landowner, Mr. Bennet, who seems to be quite an intelligent man, yet he has a lamentable tendency for levity where gravity is required. The foolishness of his younger daughters seems only to amuse him. But you must not think that I am inviting you to share in ill company. It is the elder two who are currently at Netherfield, and they are far superior to their sisters.”
He inadvertently glanced at Elizabeth, but fortunately her eyes were upon her letter and did not meet with his. Looking back at his own paper, he added, “One of them appears to have inherited something of her father’s temperament. She has a very lively turn of mind, which is matched with an expressive countenance. Indeed, she would make an excellent Beatrice.
“That role is to be undertaken by Miss Bingley, however, and naturally I am to be Benedick. You can imagine the eagerness with which she cast us as a pair of lovers. Her first preference was for something more sentimental, but fortunately the other gentlemen sided with me in opposing her ideas. She had to settle for a sparring couple, but I am certain that she will make the most of any opportunity to act in a more intimate way. That is another reason why you must come to my aid. I may need some assistance in discouraging her.”
And perhaps in distracting me from my own foolish notions, he thought. That drew him into explaining the Bennet sisters’ unfortunate connections, as well as the ways in which Elizabeth was particularly unsuited to the fashionable world, which led into some description of her.
“I must conclude now,” he wrote swiftly, seeing his greatest admirer rise from her seat and approach him. “Miss Bingley comes my way, probably for the purpose of perusing my letter under the guise of admiring the evenness of my lines. She has an unfortunate propensity for flattery, and also for reading other people’s letters. I hope I can count on you not to let me down in this acting business. Please come as soon as you can.”
He quickly folded the sheet before Miss Bingley could sneak a peek at it. All that was left for her to admire was the tidiness of the seal and the neatness of the direction.
CHAPTER 6
Good mother, do not marry me to yond fool.
THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR, ACT III, SCENE IV
Mrs. Bennet replied to Elizabeth’s second letter of the day with permission for her daughters to stay as long as necessary. She also recommended using any means to get Jane and Bingley playing a pair of lovers.
“That should put him into just the right frame of mind,” she wrote. “I expect he will propose in no time at all, but if he does not, then you must draw out the length of your visit by taking a great deal of time to learn your lines.”
Elizabeth crumpled the letter with indignation and tossed it into the fire. Even if she were willing to use artful methods of bringing the couple together, which she certainly was not, sacrificing her dignity in that way would be going too far. She could not bear to appear inept, especially in front of Mr. Darcy. It was not as though her part was a difficult one either. It could easily be learned in an hour or two.
There would, however, be no learning of any parts until Mr. Darcy’s purchases arrived. Mr. Bingley had discovered one copy of their play in his library, but the folio was so tattered and mildewed that nobody cared to touch it, not even Miss Bingley, who had declared herself eager to begin practising her lines.
Instead, that evening was spent in conversation. Jane and Mr. Bingley were once again devoted almost entirely to each other. In accordance with her plan of making herself insignificant, Elizabeth picked up a book, but before long, she found herself drawn into another one of those sparring matches which had become increasingly common between her and Mr. Darcy.
Two more days went by in similar fashion. Elizabeth tried to ignore Mr. Darcy and invariably ended up in some discussion, debate, or outright dispute with him. This was not an entirely displeasing way of passing the time, however. He had an admirably well-formed mind and a notable skill for expressing his ideas.
It is a pity that such an intelligent man should be so disagreeable, she thought on one of these evenings. And such an attractive one too. There is no denying that Mr. Darcy is a very handsome man. But not at all likeable, she quickly reminded herself.
He was, however, beginning to seem a little less disagreeable. Sometimes, he was even quite pleasant. Not all their conversations ended in dispute. One discussion about poetry was particularly interesting. His love for the subject was readily apparent, and i
t brought such softening to his voice and expression as to make him appear quite attractive in that moment.
Afterwards, Miss Bingley persuaded him to read some verses for their entertainment, which he did exceptionally well. Elizabeth was astonished by his ability to stir her emotions with such impassioned reading.
Another time they spoke of the difficulties faced by the lower classes, and she thought that he might have a little compassion after all. His comprehension of poverty and hardship was remarkable for a man of wealth and ease.
On these evenings, Miss Bingley continued her efforts to draw his attention by various means, which included trying to get him to sing a duet with her. Elizabeth was curious to know if he sang as well as his most ardent admirer declared, but he declined the suggestion.
All the while, Jane and Mr. Bingley spoke together more than ever and continued to appear exceptionally happy in each other’s company, which would have gratified Mrs. Bennet if she had been there to observe this promising behaviour. Elizabeth had no expectation of seeing her mother again for some time, but on Tuesday morning, the drawing room door was opened, and she had the shock of hearing the footman announce, “Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Collins.”
Her mother entered the room along with a young man of cumbrous appearance, whose identity puzzled Elizabeth. She knew of only one gentleman who possessed that name, but he was their estranged cousin. Could this be that Mr. Collins? If so, how did he come to be with her mother, who had often declared that the despised heir to Longbourn would never step foot into their home while she was still its mistress?
As Elizabeth examined the gentleman for any family resemblance, he looked eagerly about the room. “Which of these beautiful young ladies are my cousins?” he asked, confirming his identity and giving her an immediate distaste for him at the same time.
He seemed, however, to have made an excellent impression upon her mother, who jubilantly announced, “I have brought your cousin to meet you girls. He has come to stay with us for a fortnight. Your father said nothing of his visit until almost the last minute, so you can imagine how astonished we were to learn yesterday that Mr. Collins would soon be arriving, but it is delightful to have him with us.”
Much Ado About Many Things Page 3