A dimly lit stage with flickering candles. Elizabeth Bennet, a young woman in a flowing white gown, enters from the left side of the stage. She walks slowly and cautiously, as if she senses danger lurking around her. Suddenly, Mr. Darcy, a tall and imposing man in a black suit, appears from behind her. He advances menacingly towards her.
Mr. Darcy: (in a deep and menacing voice) Miss Bennet, I have been meaning to speak with you.
Elizabeth: (gasping in fright) Mr. Darcy! What do you want from me?
Mr. Darcy: (grabbing her roughly by the arm) I want you to know that I despise you and your family. You are beneath me, and I will never marry someone like you.
Elizabeth: (struggling to break free) Let go of me, sir! How dare you speak to me in such a manner!
Mr. Darcy: (forcing her to face him) You have bewitched me, Miss Bennet. I cannot resist your charms, even though I despise everything about you. You are a curse upon my soul.
Elizabeth: (trying to reason with him) Mr. Darcy, you are mistaken. I have no desire to bewitch anyone, much less a man as cold and heartless as you.
Mr. Darcy: (grinning wickedly) Oh, but you do, Miss Bennet. You do. And I will prove it to you. (He leans in and kisses her roughly on the mouth.)
Elizabeth: (pushing him away) No! Stop! This is madness!
Mr. Darcy: (laughing cruelly) Madness? No, my dear. This is love. And you will be mine, no matter the cost.
(Elizabeth screams and runs offstage as Mr. Darcy cackles maniacally.)
