“Why, look you there now,” continued the Captain, “you’re all at a dead stand!-not a man among you can answer that there question. Why, then, I must make bold to conclude, that you all come here for no manner of purpose but to stare at one another’s pretty faces:-though, for the matter of that, half of ‘em are plaguy ugly;-and, as to t’other half,-I believe it’s none of God’s manufactory.”
“What the ladies may come hither for, Sir,” said Mr. Lovel, (stroking his ruffles, and looking down,) “it would ill become us to determine; but as to we men, doubtless we can have no other view than to admire them.”
“If I ben’t mistaken,” cried the Captain, (looking earnestly in
his face,)
“you are that same person we saw at Love for Love t’other night;
ben’t you?”
Mr. Lovel bowed.
“Why, then, Gentlemen,” continued he, with a loud laugh, “I must tell you a most excellent good joke;-when all was over, as sure as you’re alive, he asked what the play was! Ha, ha, ha!”
“Sir,” said Mr. Lovel, colouring, “if you were as much used to
town-life as I
am,-which, I presume, is not precisely the case,-I fancy you would
not find so much diversion from a circumstance so common.”
“Common! What, is it common?” repeated the Captain; “why then,
‘fore George,
such chaps are more fit to be sent to school, and well disciplined with
a cat-o’-nine tails, than to poke their heads into a play-house. Why,
a play is the only thing left, now-a-days, that has a grain of sense
in it; for as to all the rest of your public places, d’ye see, if
they were all put together, I wouldn’t give that for ‘em!” (snapping
his fingers.) “And now we’re talking of them sort of things, there’s
your operas,-I should like to know, now, what any of you can find to
say for them.”
Lord Orville, who was most able to have answered, seemed by no means
to think
the Captain worthy an argument, upon a subject concerning which he
had neither knowledge nor feeling: but, turning to us, he said, “The
ladies are silent, and we seem to have engrossed the conversation to
ourselves, in which we are much more our own enemies than theirs. But,”
addressing himself to Miss Mirvan and me, “I am most desirous to hear
the opinions of these young ladies, to whom all public places must,
as yet, be new.”
We both, and with eagerness, declared that we had received as much,
if not
more pleasure, at the opera than any where: but we had better have
been silent; for the Captain, quite displeased, said, “What signifies
asking them girls? Do you think they know their own minds yet? Ask
?em after any thing that’s called diversion, and you’re sure they’ll
say it’s vastly fine-they are a set of parrots, and speak by rote,
for they all say the same thing: but ask ‘em how they like making
puddings and pies, and I’ll warrant you’ll pose ‘em. As to them operas,
I desire I may hear no more of their liking such nonsense; and for
you, Moll” (to his daughter,) “I charge you, as you value my favour,
that you’ll never again be so impertinent as to have a taste of your
own before my face. There are fools enough in the world, without
your adding to their number. I’ll have no daughter of mine affect
them sort of megrims. It is a shame they a’n’t put down; and if I’d
my will, there’s not a magistrate in this town but should be knocked
on the head for suffering them. If you’ve a mind to praise any thing,
why you may praise a play, and welcome, for I like it myself.”
This reproof effectually silenced us both for the rest of the
evening. Nay,
indeed, for some minutes it seemed to silence every body else; till Mr.
Lovel, not willing to lose an opportunity of returning the Captain’s
sarcasm, said, “Why, really Sir, it is but natural to be most pleased
with what is most familiar; and, I think, of all our diversions,
there is not one so much in common between us and the country as a
play. Not a village but has its barns and comedians; and as for the
stage business, why it may be pretty equally done any where; and even
in regard to us, and the canaille, confined as we all are within the
semi-circle of a theatre, there is no place where the distinction is
less obvious.”
While the Captain seemed considering for Mr. Lovel’s meaning,
Lord Orville,
probably with a view to prevent his finding it, changed the subject
to Cox’s Museum, and asked what he thought of it?
“Think!-“said he, “why I think as how it i’n’t worth thinking
about. I like
no such jemcracks. It is only fit, in my mind, for monkeys:-though,
for aught I know, they too might turn up their noses at it.”
“May we ask your Lordship’s own opinion?” said Mrs. Mirvan.
“The mechanism,” answered he, “is wonderfully ingenioous: I am sorry
it is
turned to no better account; but its purport is so frivolous, so
very remote from all aim at instruction or utility, that the sight
of so fine a show leaves a regret on the mind, that so much work,
and so much ingenuity, should not be better bestowed.”
“The truth is,” said the Captain, “that in all this huge town,
so full as it
is of folks of all sorts, there i’n’t so much as one public place,
besides the play-house, where a man, that’s to say, a man who is a
man, ought not to be ashamed to shew his face. T’other day they got
me to a ridotto: but, I believe, it will be long enough before they
get me to another. I knew no more what to do with myself, than if my
ship’s company had been metamorphosed into Frenchman. Then, again,
there’s your famous Ranelagh, that you make such a fuss about;-why
what a dull place is that!-it’s the worst of all.”
“Ranelagh dull!”-“Ranelagh dull!-was echoed from mouth to mouth;
and all
the ladies, as if of one accord, regarded the Captain with looks of
the most ironical contempt.
“As to Ranelagh,” said Mr. Lovell, “most indubitably, though the
price is
blebian, it is by no means adapted to the plebian taste. It requires
a certain acquaintance with high life, and-and-and something
of-of-something d’un vrai gout, to be really sensible of its
merit. Those whose-whose connections, and so forth, are not among
les gens comme il faut, can feel nothing but ennui at such a place
as Ranelagh.”
“Ranelagh!” cried Lord -, “O, tis the divinest place under heaven,-or,
indeed,-for aught I know-”
“O you creature!” cried a pretty, but affected young lady, patting him with her fan, “you sha’n’t talk so; I know what you are going to say; but, positively, I won’t sit by you, if you’re so wicked.”
“And how can one sit by you, and be good?” said he, “when only to
look at you
is enough to make one wicked-or wish to be so?”
“Fie, my Lord!” returned she, “you really are insufferable. I don’t
think I
shall speak to you again these seven years.”
“What a metamorphosis,” cried Lord Orville,” should you make a
patriarch of
his Lordship.”
“Seven years!” said he, “dear Madam, be contented with telling me
you will
not speak to me after seven years, and I will endeavour to submit.”
“O, very well, my Lord,” answered she, “pray date the end of our speaking to each other as early as you please, I’ll promise to agree to your time.”
“You know, dear Madam,” said he, sipping his tea, “you know I only
live in
your sight.”
“O yes, my Lord, I have long known that. But I begin to fear we
shall be too
late for Ranelagh this evening.”
“O no, Madame,” said Mr. Lovel, looking at his watch, “it is but
just past
ten.”
“No more!” cried she, “O then we shall do very well.”
All the ladies now started up, and declared they had no time to lose.
“Why, what the D-l,” cried the Captain, leaning forward with both
his arms
on the table,” are you going to Ranelagh at this time of night?”
The ladies looked at one another, and smiled.
“To Ranelagh?” cried Lord -, “yes, and I hope you are going too;
for we
cannot possibly excuse these ladies.”
“I go to Ranelagh?-if I do, I’ll be -.”
Everybody now stood up; and the stranger Lord, coming round to me,
said, “You
go, I hope?”
“No, my Lord, I believe not.”
“O you cannot, must not be so barbarous.” And he took my hand,
and ran on,
saying such fine speeches, and compliments, that I might almost have
supposed myself a goddess, and him a pagan paying me adoration. As
soon as I possibly could, I drew back my hand; but he frequently,
in the course of conversation, contrived to take it again, though it
was extremely disagreeable to me; and the more so, as I saw that Lord
Orville had his eyes fixed upon us, with a gravity of attention that
made me uneasy.
And, surely, my dear Sir, it was a great liberty in this lord,
not withstanding his rank, to treat me so freely. As to Sir Clement,
he seemed in misery.
They all endeavoured to prevail with the Captain to join the
Ranelagh party;
and this lord told me, in a low voice, that it was tearing his heart
out to go without me.
During this conversation Mr. Lovel came forward, and assuming a look of surprise, made me a bow, and inquired how I did, protesting upon his honour, that he had not seen me before, or would have sooner paid his respects to me.