Christmas at Pemberley
was the night before Christmas, and in the heart of the county,
The Bingleys and Darcys were enjoying life's bounty.
These two newlywed couples were praising the season
(They're crazy in love -- that must be the reason.)
With mistletoe and holly their joy was assured --
Except for their in-laws, who must be endured.
Mama in her kerchief screeched with much ado,
"Three daughters married! That leaves only two!
Lydia an officer's wife! Wickham wears a red coat!
(Not a parson -- as if Lady Lucas could gloat!)
Jane is my angel, so proper and prim;
And as for Bingley, I always liked him.
Lizzy so rich! She'll have jewels by the score!
I hope Darcy won't mind my disliking him before."
Papa in the library made quiet endeavor
To comment on those three daughters, since two were quite clever.
"Lydia's a hoyden - her husband a lout.
Will the marriage last long? I do have my doubts.
Jane and Bingley are sweet, but ain't got no sense.
The servants will scam off with their very last pence.
I must say that Lizzy's all pepper and vinegar -
And her husband is the only man to deserve her."
When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter
They sprang to the windows to see what was the matter.
A gleaming black coach was drawn up on the lawn,
An impressive coachman in livery blowing a horn.
There were no other guests coming, so who could it be?
The footman opened the door - and out stepped Lady C.!
"I am seriously displeased you did not call me this night,
For who else could be sure your goose was roasted aright?
I keep all family recipes tremendously handy!
Now excuse me, for I must make sure of your brandy."
(There was no further sight of her Ladyship that e'en -
At least, none of the servants will tell what they've seen.
But rumor does have it she made herself quite tipsy,
And ran 'round the battlements all dressed like a gypsy.)
Then another loud noise arose from the hall!
Darcy groaned and thought, "What else could befall?"
In rushed the Colonel, Fitzwilliam by name;
With a wild look in his eye, to Darcy he came.
"Help me! No, hide me! Put me up in a tree!
I'm an eligible bachelor and they're all after me!
Spinsters and maidens, even old married women!
They're after my bod, and I won't go with 'em!"
(Since no one was following, sure the man had gone mad.
They locked him up in an old storeroom they had.
Since the walls were not padded, they rolled him up in a blanket.
Far from resenting their treatment, he seemed more to thank it.
Surely Fitzie would be more relieved than annoyed
When he learned that his coz would call in Dr. Freud.)
Bingley, though modest, had had more than enough.
"No more!" he shouted. "I can't take this weird stuff!
It's Christmas! Let's sit down to the table!
And eat this good feast while we are still able."
Jane calmed her dear husband, who did seem quite weary,
Then to her friends she directed a query.
"Think not you there is a reason our guests are acting this way?
For none can be wrong - they must all have their say."
Darcy, smiling, said, "Jane, you are out of your senses.
How do you get through life, always sitting on fences?
Pick a side, choose a team, give your ideas some direction!
For none except you, dear, achieves such perfection."
Then Lizzy with tact poured oil on the waters.
"We are together for Christmas, and that's all that matters.
Who gives a fig if our parents do fuss?
And Lady C.'s ranting cannot worry us.
And sure we love Fitzipie, who has been such a friend -
With some therapy, soon his troubles will end.
Now raise a toast to our future so bright:
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night."