Chapter IX.
Lady Betty's Masquerade.
Prudence was mighty pleased to hear of our Engagement, as it would afford her a near View of the gay World, which was what she had long been desiring. After the Shop was closed, we set forth, attended by Peter, who was also to see us safe back; and on reaching the Square, we descried the House directly by the lighted Flambeaux.
Both the private and public Entrance were already in Commotion; but we asked the Hall Porter for Mr. James, who presently appeared, still in Deshabille. "You have taken me at my Word," said he smiling, "Your Coming is of the earliest, and I dare not let you go up-Stairs yet, so you must wait awhile in the Servants' Hall, till the Company begin to arrive."
I was never in a Servants' Hall of that Description before; and I must say that it afforded me Matter and Leisure for several Reflections. Servants, Pastry-Cooks—Men and Boys, and so forth, were bustling in and out, and we were pushed about a good Deal till we got into a quiet Corner behind the Clock. It struck me that the Pleasures of the Quality were purchased at the Price of a good Deal of Immorality in their Dependents. Many a Glass of Wine did I see swallowed on the Sly; many a Tart and Custard whipt off and hastily eaten in Corners. One would have thought, in a great House like this, Fragments of Dainties had been so common that they would have been no Temptations; but doubtless the poor Servants had been so overwrought and debarred of their natural Rest and regular Refreshments, that their Strength required a little keeping up, for they had an arduous Evening before them. The Maids flirted and jested; the Men used intemperate Language; in and out among them all sailed my Lady Housekeeper from Time to Time, as proud as a Dutchess, and in a Head and Primers that a Dutchess had probably worn, before they were a little soiled.
By-and-by the Bustle increases. Mr. James comes in, superbly attired, and smilingly offers us Tarts and Tokay; but, though pressed, we declined. Then he beckoned us to follow him, and piloted us into a brilliant Ante-room where, behind some huge Orange Trees in Wooden Tubs, he found us Seats that commanded a Vistoe of the two Drawing-rooms beyond. Sure, the King's Majesty could scarce dwell in greater State. I think that neither Whitehall, Windsor, nor Hampton Court could ever have made a greater Show. The Ante-Chamber Hangings were blue Velvet and Silver, the Drawing-room that came next beyond was amber Satin and Gold; the Chamber beyond that was hung with Goblin Tapestry. Also there were some large Mirrours, in which one might behold one's self from Head to Foot.
I had very little Notion of what a Masked Ball was really like, but I concluded the Company being attired as Monarchs, Roman Senators, and Potentates of various Descriptions, would be sufficiently possessed with their imaginary Dignities to display Gestures and Deportment of a corresponding Sort, which would doubtless be very majestical. And these again would be relieved by Light-Comedy Parts, which, well supported, would be humorous and diverting.
As, let People assemble as late as they will, some one must still be first, so it was on the present Occasion. A little Man, gaudily attired, entered with a good Deal of Flutter and Importance, who, as soon as he found the Apartments empty, exchanged his Strut for his ordinary Gait, took off his Mask and put it on again several times, perambulated the Saloons, peeped into everything, examined himself again and again before the Mirrours, acted a little in Dumb-Show, sat down before one of them, and finally curled himself up on a Settee and dropped asleep.
I wonder how much the Expectation of Pleasure makes up the real Amount of Pleasure apportioned to us in this Life. The Pleasure itself continually disappoints; the Expectation of it has often Something troubled and impatient; so that either Way there's perpetual Alloy.
Prudence and I were now mighty anxious for the Company. A Group at length entered, consisting of Maids of Honour and Courtiers of Queen Elizabeth's Time, very much furbelowed and bedizened, who believed themselves the first till they espied the little Man on the Settee, when there were some small Jokes made about Cymon and Iphigenia, Milton and the Italian Lady, Sleeping Beauty in the Wood, and so forth. Then the Ladies settled their Ruffs at the Mirrours, and sailed up and down; and one of them walked through Part of a Minuet without Music with a Gentleman she called Sir Christopher Hatton, who pointed his Toes extremely well. Then one of them said, "My Mask makes my Face so hot!" "And red too," said the other; "but what will it be by-and-by?" "I wonder if Harry will come," says one; "I'll lay any Wager I shall find him out."—"I'll lay any Wager you won't," says the other. Thought I, is this the Way Maids of Honour used to talk in the Days of good Queen Bess? Well, perhaps it may be.
Just then the little Man woke up, rubbing his Eyes, and saying drowsily, "John, my hot Water at seven ..." on which the Ladies tittered, and he woke up, looked about, and probably felt foolish. Now the Musicians came, and took their Places, and began to tune up; and Prue whispered to me, "How delightful!" Indeed, the Music was, or seemed to me, first-rate, and I enjoyed it as much as anything; yet at length became inured to it, and scarce more attentive than to a common Street Band; and finally wished the Men would not play so loud, for it prevented my hearing what People were saying. The Ball-Rooms now began to fill fast; and were soon crowded with Jews, Turks, and Saracens, Nuns, Monks, and Friars, Goddesses, Shepherdesses, and Milkmaids, Pulcinelloes, Mountebanks, and Ministers of State. Their Dresses were excessive fine, and I almost trembled to think of the Expense People had put themselves to for the Amusement of one Night; however, that was all for the good of Trade—if so be they paid their Bills.
As for supporting their Characters, there was scarce an Attempt at it; the utmost that the greater Part of 'em did was to say, in little squeaking Voices, "You don't know me!" "I know you!" This seemed to me stupider than Child's-Play; and I was beginning to weary of it, when Prudence jogged me as a very pretty Figure passed, in striped Gauze and pink Satin, sprinkled with Flowers, as the Goddess Flora; and whispered, "Lady Grace Bellair."
Soon after, a smart young Spanish Cavaliero came in, whom she pronounced to be Mr. Arbuthnot; and a Bashaw with three Tails, whom she decided upon as Sir Charles Sefton. Whether any of her Guesses were right, I knew not. By-and-by, Dancing began in the inner Saloon; and, for the first Time, I had a Glimpse of Lady Betty, who was the only Woman without a Mask; and when I saw how great was her Advantage therein over the rest, I wondered how Persons that evidently thought mainly of outward Appearances could make themselves such Frights.
By-and-by a singular Couple, Arm in Arm, left the Ball-Rooms for the Ante-Chamber, dressed like Charles the Second's Courtiers, all but their Heads; for one had the Head of a Fox, and the other of a monstrous Goose. The latter said, "Quack!" whenever he was pushed by the Crowd, which was held an exceeding good Joke, for Folks cried, "Well done, Goose! Quack again!" and, when he did so, went into Peals of Laughter. At Length, with his Friend the Fox, he sat down on a Bench just in Front of our Orange-Trees, exclaiming to his Companion, "Precious hot Work! Even Popularity may be too fatiguing."
"I never had enough of it to know that," says the Fox.
"You! Why, you've been steeped in it to the Lips!—among a certain Coterie at any Rate. You are feigning Modesty, Mr. Fox."
"All I said was, I had never had too much; perhaps, not enough. We belong to an insatiable Race. By-the-by, I proved myself a Goose To-Night in choosing to play Fox, for you are by far the more popular."
"And only by saying Quack."
"Quackery goes a great Way in this World,—I might have known 'twould be so."
"Monstrous fine Masquerade this!" said the Goose.
"Oh, delightful! Have you made out many People?"
"Why, to tell you the Truth, I've been so observed myself, I've had no Time to observe others."
"Quack!"
"Sir! name your Hour, Place, and Weapon."
"How quiet and retired is everything in this little Spot! You have Time to observe now."
"Why did you deny yourself to me Yesterday? I know you were at Home."
"The Truth is, I was desperately hypped."
"What made you so?"
"Study."
"What were you studying? The natural History of the Fox?"
"No, I was learning some Verses by Heart; and I'll spout them to you."
"Now then; don't be tedious."
"'Three Things an Author's modest Wishes bound;
My Friendship, and a Prologue, and ten Pound.'"
"Oh, come! that's Pope!"
"Well, and it's my Case too—pretty near. A callow Poetling writes a Piece, dedicates it to me, and expects me to patronize and print it."
"You? Why, I never saw your Name head a Dedication!"
"Well, Sir, you may shortly—if I find no Way of adroitly declining the Honour, as I have done similar Favours before."
"Why decline?"
"Oh, the Thing's burthensome."
"The ten Pounds may be; but most People consider themselves honoured, and are willing to pay for an expensive Luxury."
"Well, it's no Luxury to me."
"Don't have it, then."
"How avoid it?"
"By simple Neglect. He can't ask for the ten Pounds, if you forget to send them."
"No, but he may abuse me."
"If his Abuse is not clever, Nobody will read it. Come, you are making a Mountain of a Molehill. If he has sent his Poem to you, send it back 'with Thanks,' or forget to return it altogether, or let a Spark fall upon it."
"Then a Spark would fall upon me."
"Nay, if none of those Expedients can fit you, you must help yourself to one. I begin to think you ought to have played Goose, in good Earnest."
They now fell to talking of the Company, and criticizing their Dresses and Deportment, but I was too preoccupied with what they had been saying to attend much to their caustic Remarks; for though they spoke quietly, and their false Heads somewhat disguised their Voices, I could not help entertaining an Impression that the Fox was Mr. Caryl. Was it poor Mr. Fenwick, then, he alluded to so unhandsomely? Oh, the Hollowness of Worldlings! Why, had I not with my own Ears heard him commend Mr. Fenwick's Poem to his Face, and thank him for the Compliment of the Dedication? And yet, here he was waiving it off, as 'twere, and even hinting that Mr. Fenwick wanted to be paid for it! whereas I knew he had refused Money when offered! Oh, the Meanness!... He was jealous, and envious too, I could make out, of a Man that had writ better Verses than his own; and would fain have them supprest. Well, well, this is a wicked World we live in; and that's no News neither.
A false Head and a false Heart, thought I, as the Fox walked off with the Goose. I declare my Hands tingled to pull off that Fox's Head and expose him; but that would have been witless. I got tired of the Vanity-Fair long before Prudence did. At length even she had had enough (and no Wonder, for our Attention had been on the full Stretch for many Hours, without Refreshment or Change of Posture); but the Difficulty was, how to steal away; for the Lobbies and grand Staircase were as thronged as the Ball-Rooms, and we could not in our plebeian Dresses, and unmasked, attempt going among the Company; so there we continued to sit, long after we wanted to come away. At length the Rooms began to thin; and we took Advantage of a chance Dispersion of the Company to make a sudden Flight to the back Stairs. I thought I heard Remarks and Exclamations made, but never looked round; and there, at the Foot of the back Stairs, stood Peter as pale as Death, thinking he had missed us, and never should find us. He had passed the Night, of course, at a Public-House—no good place for him, nor for scores of others that did the same; and was now waiting with our camelot Cloaks and Clogs, which he had stowed safely somewhere where he knew he could find them again. Once equipped, we followed close at his Heels as he elbowed his Way through a Rabble-Rout of Chairmen, Link-Boys, Hackney-Coachmen, Pickpockets, and Lookers-on. It was pouring of Rain, the Pavement shone like Glass, Day was breaking, and I never heard such an uproar in my Life.... "Lady So-and-so's Chariot!" echoed from one hoarse Voice to another all along and round the Corner; and then "Lady So-and-so's Chariot stops the Way!"—till Lady So-and-so stepped in and drove off.
At length we got quit of it all, and picked our Way Home as we best could, and a long Way it seemed! We had too much to do in minding our Dresses, to have Leisure for talking. As we got towards the Five Fields we met plenty of Market-Carts; and now and then we heard the shrilly Cry of some poor little Chimney-Sweep. Once at Home, we were soon in Bed and asleep; and I awoke nearly at my usual Time, chilly and yawnish, but Prue continued sleeping, and I did not wake her.
I was not down quite as soon as usual, after all, and the Milk and Bread were behind Time; and, of Course, Mr. Fenwick did not get his Chocolate as soon as usual. When he heard what had made me late, he looked grave. I said, "Sure, Sir, there was no Harm in looking on?" He said, "Well, I don't know.... It is dangerous to attend not merely Places of pernicious but of doubtful Amusement. Do not your Feelings this Morning tell you that there was Something unsound and unsafe in the Revelry of last Night? And if so in the Case of mere Spectators, how much more in that of actual Participators? and of all those poor People, no voluntary Promoters of it, who only obeyed Orders, and got no Pleasure at all, but what was allied to Dishonesty and Intemperance? I don't want to be overstrict; but am I right or wrong, think you, Mrs. Patty?" And I was obliged to own that I believed he was in the Right on't.
As for Prue, she was fit for Nothing all Day; but she would hear of no Wrong in what had to her been so delightful. So I left her to amuse my quiet Mother with her lively Chat, and attended to the Shop myself.
