Disclaimer: I did not write Romeo and Juliet or Pride and Prejudice, but since they are in the public domain I suppose I own them as much as anyone.
Romeo and Elizabeth: At Least They Don't Die at the End
It is a truth universally acknowledged that blind dates end badly. Elizabeth Bennet knew this and dreaded the evening ahead of her. Her mother, however, happily admired her prospects.
"I imagine he is quite rich. I daresay, Lizzy, that he will propose to you very soon. And then you will be unimaginably wealthy—and that will throw your sisters into the path of rich men. Do you know if he has a friend?"
"I have never met him, Ma'am, and therefore cannot apprehend his situation," Elizabeth said, amusement overriding her anxiousness.
Mrs. Bennet was not allowed time to respond, because Catherine and Lydia had spotted him through the parlor window.
"He is quite five times as handsome as any man I have ever seen," Kitty declared.
Mrs. Bennet observed for herself. "Oh! he is a fine young man. Quite dashing—and what expensive clothing! I daresay you could not do better."
"Lizzy," said Lydia, "you should not go on another date with him. We would like a chance with him. Though I am the youngest, I think he should like me best of all."
"I believe I can safely promise that this blind date will lead nowhere," Elizabeth replied.
"Lizzy, he must be a good sort of man," Miss Bennet said. "I know you do not approve of the way you are to meet him, but I am positive the internet dating service has paired you with an amiable gentleman. No—I am sure you will like him."
"It is good of you to think so," Elizabeth replied. "I know I cannot trust so freely."
The man they referred to was Mr. Romeo Montague, who stood forlornly on the Bennet's front porch. He was as displeased about this evening as Elizabeth, and soon spoke his feelings to the night air.
"Against this heart, long struck with deepest love,
so fortified to dampen any shove
that may arise at new beauty's first sight,
no maiden has a chance to win a fight.
Oh! that my love for Claire could merely blaze,
without her moving after only days.
My cuz convinced me that, despite my will,
my brightly burning love I need to kill.
So now I must knock on the door of fate,
and leave behind the heart of my soul mate."
The introduction was awkward, for she was embarrassed to be on a blind date, and he was determined to dislike her. However, Montague did not have the temper to dislike such a pretty, amiable girl, and was soon quite taken with Elizabeth.
"Does not your beauty make the sun rise each morn, oh fairest dawn?" he asked her over dinner.
"The sun has always risen, and yet I have not even existed for one-and-twenty years. I must conclude, therefore, that it indeed is not my beauty that does so." Her intention was not to affront him, but to dissuade him from entertaining serious thoughts about her at this early an acquaintance.
Montague was not deterred—Elizabeth's quick response had only heightened his admiration. "Thy tongue is sharper than mine sword, and yet thy voice slakes a thirst I knew not existed."
"Please do not flatter me so," she said sharply. "It is not proper."
He sighed dramatically. "I do not mean to speak so—your beauty overwhelmed my mind, and in this state the laws of propriety I forgot."
She was somewhat mollified that he was sensible of his manner, but unwilling to encourage him with warmth, she responded thus: "I must apologize then—in light of your deficient mental capabilities my reaction seems harsh. Your mind must be limited to be so affected by looks such as mine."
She regretted her pert remark until he flattered her again. "It is not that my mind is lacking, but rather that it becomes so when compared to the greatness of your beauty."
Elizabeth smiled archly. "Then it is as I have said."
"Oh! to destroy your mirror is my greatest wish! It must be punished for its shameful slander."
Elizabeth was still embarrassed by his overt attentions to her and distrusted his motives. "There is but such a quantity of truth between the mirror and yourself; just enough to make one honest. For my part, I am inclined to think it is all the mirror."
Her saucy remarks did not seem to get through to him. Montague took Elizabeth's hand in his own. "Your wit does you credit, Eliza. I can keep quiet no longer—my soul is sick with sweetest love, and matrimony is the only cure."
Elizabeth sharply withdrew her hand, mortified at the indecency of his forwardness. She coldly but civilly rebuffed him. "Sir, I thank you for your attentions, but cannot accept them. We have only known each other a short time, and I must beg you please do not pursue this further."
Montague reacted most passionately to her response.
"Oh cruelest Cupid, with thy impish bow
hath pierced a heart as fragile as a doe.
The shaft cuts deep and lives without a mate
increasing tenfold the pain of this date.
Mine beating heart graciously offered,
was slapped away after being proffered.
The bruiséd organ I pick up, afraid
Another fall and it will start to fade.
The sickly burning fever of my love—"
It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now. "I am sorry to have occasioned pain to you, but it was most unconsciously done. The very great feeling that you have formed for me will quickly run its course. I suggest that, in the meantime, you speak of it no further."
He conceded with a nod, though he was offended at the implication of superficiality.
"Come, Mr. Montague, let us be friends. I find they are much more valuable than conquests."
Her response pacified him, and he soon forgot her beauty and refusal. He asked her to dance, and she answered the affirmative. They danced in silence for a few minutes, before Elizabeth decided to speak up.
"Why don't you tell me about yourself," Elizabeth suggested. "Dancing is always improved by conversation."
Montague acquiesced. He was the son of a powerful lord in Verona, and though an only child, there was a very steady friendship between him and his cousin, Benvolio. He mentioned a feud with another family, but did not elaborate. She was curious, but felt she would be taking great liberty in asking. Instead, she said in a lively tone, "So you see—your relations would think me an imprudent choice. It is good that we are not engaged."
Montague's color heightened. "Next to the sweet blush of new love, money shortly loses its luster."
She still believed his interest in her to be shallow, and her intention did not waver, but she was pleased that fortune was not his aim in marrying.
Their conversation lasted through several dances. Elizabeth found that when he was not focused on her beauty, he could participate intelligently in conversation. To any comment she made, he was quick to reply with a witty remark or pun. She found the conversation highly entertaining.
As they started to leave, a beautiful woman caught Montague's attention. He was enamored at first glance. He looked uncomfortably back at Elizabeth, not wanting to abandon her.
"Oh, cruel fate, that new love I must forsake
else my decency be shown as at stake.
The yond woman like an angel dost glow,
Yet here stands another whose wit dost flow."
Elizabeth ceased his ruminations with her cheerful response. "Love calls you—it is your office to answer it." He thanked her profusely and told her that he admired her greatly. She laughed as she left. Romeo Montague was handsome and clever, but he had to be the silliest man she had ever encountered.