A/N: If you made a silliness meter that went from Lydia to Darcy, it would be pegged at the Lydia end of the scale.
Wade
The first two dances, however, brought a return of distress; they were dances of mortification. Mr Collins, awkward and solemn, apologising instead of attending, and often moving wrong without being aware of it, gave her all the shame and misery which a disagreeable partner for a couple of dances can give. The moment of her release from him was ecstasy.
P&P Chapter 18—Netherfield Ball
Elizabeth Bennet always believed she had the reflexes of a cat, and her thesis was proven in the middle of her dance with Mr Collins. She barely managed to freeze mid-step when the clumsy oaf stepped on her gown, and even managed to keep it from tearing, which would have made her as angry as a badger. As it was, she felt as long-suffering as a pack mule, and just wanted to be done with the disagreeable dance with her cousin, who was as annoying as a yapping terrier. The way he was dancing, she could easily imagine another dancer ending up dead as a dodo when he knocked them into a drinks table or column.
With a huff, she took hold of the lunkhead's elbow and dragged him out of the figure. "MR COLLINS! You are done dancing for the evening! You are a menace to society!"
He gave her a greasy smile like a weasel. "Cousin, you are uniformly charming. I realize my dancing was not perfect, but —"
"NOT PERFECT!" she roared like an elephant. "It was as far from perfect as it is possible to be. You dance as awkwardly as a running turkey! Nay, sir… you shall dance no more!"
The argument went back and forth for some minutes, as any such conversation was likely to, with Collins finally asserting, "I need dance no more, my dear cousin, but with your permission I shall remain close to you for the evening."
"You most certainly shall not," snapped she, eyes ablaze like a tiger on the hunt. "I have no need for a limpet, nor shall I tolerate one."
"Cousin, you cannot mean it. I shall choose to attribute it to your wish of increasing my love by suspense, according to the usual practice of elegant females."
She stared at the idiot like a startled deer, then spent some considerable time trying to work out a response to the stupidest words ever spoken in the English language.
Fortunately, her eagle eye spotted her salvation before she managed to come up with anything to say to the grinning baboon. Fleet as a deer, she bounded away to seek assistance.
"Mr Darcy, I desperately need you to perform a rather disagreeable duty of a gentleman. Might you momentarily act the part of the lion?"
"I will be happy as a clam to dance with you, Miss Elizabeth," he said with a bow, gallant as a noble steed.
"Nothing so disagreeable, sir. I just need to borrow your peacock feathers. A few words should suffice."
"I admit to being as confused as a lost puppy," said he, with a look on his face to match the sentiment. "I took your words to indicate you will finally dance with me, and as for feathers, I suspect one dance out of three applications hardly qualifies me to crow like a rooster."
The lady matched his confused lost puppy look, so he continued, "Lucas Lodge, the parlour, and just now."
"My apologies. I understood I was not handsome enough to tempt you, but if your assessment has changed, I shall be happy to dance—even without Sir William's hen pecking."
The gentleman laughed and bowed again.
Highly amused and somewhat flattered, the lady smiled brightly and explained her purpose.
"I need your help with my cousin, Mr Collins. He is as obstinate as an ox and will not listen to any female except his patroness, Lady Catherine de Burgh—who sounds like an angry honking goose. I need you to tell him he is a menace to the other dancers, and he should not dance until he learns how to perform better than a monkey, lest he compromise some poor unwitting female who is otherwise innocent as a lamb."
Darcy laughed. "I am at your service, my lady, and shall perform as loyally as a dog, but we should be expeditious as the second set is soon to start. I shall charge in like a bull and slay the dragon, leaving his head at the feet of my beautiful panther."
Elizabeth stared at the man in stupefaction and blushed like a lobster, wondering if he had finally shown his sense of humour or was in earnest. Having no idea how to reply, she followed him like a puppy as he swooped down on Mr Collins like a hawk.
"Mr Collins, I never saw in the whole course of my life, a man less qualified to dance. You need to sit out until you learn the skill. A parson should know better."
Elizabeth beamed at him in approval, though she thought it was unlikely to be so easy.
"I see my young cousin has importuned you, sir. Allow me to correct her," then he turned on Elizabeth like a headless chicken.
"My dear Miss Elizabeth, I have the highest opinion in the world in your excellent judgement in all matters within the scope of your understanding; but permit me to say, that there must be a wide difference between the established forms of ceremony amongst the laity, and those which regulate the clergy; for, give me leave to observe that I consider the clerical office as equal in point of dignity with the highest rank in the kingdom–provided that a proper humility of behaviour is at the same time maintained. You must therefore allow me to follow the dictates of my conscience on this occasion, which leads me to perform what I look on as a point of duty. Pardon me for neglecting to profit by your advice, which on every other subject shall be my constant guide, though in the case before us I consider myself more fitted by education and habitual study to decide on what is right than a young lady like yourself."
Both Elizabeth and Darcy stared at him a moment, and she finally gasped, "What does that even mean? Was that even English?"
"It means that my noble patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, has seen me dance with satisfaction, so I must assume it was your steps in error."
Darcy growled like an angry bear (much to Elizabeth's enjoyment) and rounded on the man. "As the NEPHEW of your so-called noble patroness, allow me to correct you. She would be shocked by the fact that you nearly destroyed a fine lady's raiment, and she will have sharp words to you if I mention the matter to her."
Mr Collins grovelled like a worm and added an astonishing number of words indicating his relative felicity in meeting such a noble relative of his patroness, but in the end, still said he intended to dance with all of his fair cousins.
Elizabeth ran out of patience. "Mr Collins… I am at a complete loss to understand how your reasoning works, but I can assure you that Mr Darcy will defend the ladies of Meryton like a hawk, and at the moment, you are looking like a very tempting rabbit."
Darcy leaned into her and grumbled, "More like a mouse… or a rat at best," much to her pleasure.
Mr Collins finally seemed to understand the nature of the offense and started grovelling to Mr Darcy in his usual fashion.
Some minutes into it, he could not resist saying, "I will follow my noble patroness' nephew's wise council, but I hope you know I will no longer be considering you as the companion of my future life, Miss Elizabeth. I could not possibly attach myself to a woman who screeches like a seagull."
Elizabeth just stared at the man, then finally burst out laughing, joined momentarily by Darcy. "Mr Collins, you sound just like the fox complaining the grapes are sour, but if that will make you stop chattering like a magpie, I will be happy as a lark to escape your company in favour of Mr Darcy."
The musicians started warming up for the next set, and Darcy took the opportunity to drag Elizabeth away from the man like a trout on a line before he could make any rejoinder.
As they lined up, Darcy observed, "You did warn me that I was dealing with a mule, but even knowing the type of men my aunt favours, I was completely taken aback by the toad aspect. I swear, the man could easily pass for a bootlicking weasel."
Elizabeth laughed gaily. "It was an impossible task. The wisest owl could not possibly explain the reality of Mr Collins to a man of sense and education. You must see it to believe it—or hear it, at least."
She looked back to see Mr Collins slithering off like a snake and they both laughed like hyenas.
Elizabeth was all astonishment to find herself and the taciturn man from Derbyshire chattering like squirrels. She actually LIKED the lunkhead. Who would have thought?
She looked around, curious as a cat, and found the assembled citizens of Meryton staring at them unnervingly like a parliament of owls. Perhaps, she thought, the neighbours might be amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Mr Darcy, but she was not… not really. They had not had the smoothest acquaintance, but now that she knew the kind of man he was, she was inordinately happy with her dance partner. She briefly wondered about the impropriety Mr Wickham had shown in gossiping like a goose to someone he had only met the day before, and then decided she just had no interest in the dispute between the two men, which was probably more complicated than Mr Wickham made it seem.
As the dance began, Elizabeth tried two or three times to initiate conversation but was prevented by bursting out laughing every time. She finally managed to make some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes while the gentleman tried his best to look dignified, she addressed him a second time with: "It is your turn to say something now, Mr Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."
He stopped laughing and looked at her intensely. "At this time, I am only capable of commenting on half of one of the couples in the room, but if you need a remark on my observations, I must say that she is as graceful and beautiful as a swan, and as charmingly playful as an otter."
She laughed, not willing to allow him the upper hand.
"Since the other half of that couple slayed my dragon, I must assert he is as handsome as a steed and as noble as a lion," she asserted playfully, which left her momentarily as happily surprised as the cat who got the canary.
A momentary pause in the dance allowed him to assert that his effort to be sly as a fox to hide his growing admiration, had now been rendered as superfluous as wings on a snake.
Quite struck by the admiration in his voice, but somewhat nonplussed by it at the same time, she fell back on impertinence. "Or as superfluous as a brain in a man!"
Said gentleman laughed like a howler monkey as he slapped his knee, and she joined him. The rest of the crowd stared at them as if they were residents of the menagerie.
He grinned and took her hand in preparation for returning to the motion of the dance. "I am certain, Miss Elizabeth, that had I been obliged to leave this place, I should have returned to you like a homing pigeon ere long."
Just as the dance compelled them to move again, Lydia, drunk as a bull in a china shop bashed into Elizabeth from behind, making her crash into Darcy as clumsily as a newborn foal.
Agile as a gazelle, Darcy caught her around the waist to keep them both from crashing to the floor, while Lydia laughed like a cheeky monkey.
Greedy as a pig, Darcy refused to let go of his prize, though she was probably already as surefooted as a mountain goat.
Curious as a cat, Elizabeth asked, "Now that you have caught me like a spider in its web, what do you intend to do with me?"
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Darcy looked into her eyes. "Now that I have you in my arms, I believe I shall wrap you up like a python and never let go!"
Elizabeth stared at him in wonder, trying to work out if this was happening or it was all a bizarre dream, but finally decided she would accept either.
"Why, Mr Darcy, I always believed you were as stern and unapproachable as a wolf and stubborn as a mule—but it turns out you are every bit as lovable as a puppy. You need nothing stronger than a chick's feathers to keep me by your side, steady as a donkey and loyal as a dog."
With a great laugh, he picked her up and spun her around like a dancing bear, then set her down and kissed her like …"
Well—as the wise old owl says, "best not tell tales."
~~ Finis ~~
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little bit of absurdity. If you like off the rails humour, you I have a ton more. "Fair Warning", "Elizabeth Bennet's Wager", and "Seven Brandies" come to mind.
I used AI in the form of Anthropic's Claude-2 (competitor to GPT4) to suggest some animal analogies. It was fun. All the bad writing was mine alone ;)
I admit a bit of my inspiration for this came from an old fantasy series "The Magic of Xanth by Piers Anthony". In the first couple of books were entirely based on puns and they were a jolly good time.
Wade