“I have seen more than one Admiral of the Fleet mighty proud of a wooden leg, sir,” said Burney. “But this is beside the question, which I take to be the responsibility of our good friend here—I hope I don't presume, Mr. Kendal—for kindling, albeit unconsciously, so far as he was concerned—that sacred flame in the breast of—to name only one out of a score—the lady whose name he mentioned.”
“You are with me heart and soul, as I felt sure you would be, Mr. Burney; as a naval officer of judgment and experience,” cried Garrick, “and so, sir—” he turned to their visitor— “I cannot doubt that you will comport yourself as a gentleman of honour in this affair. Do not allow your yielding to the natural impulse to run away to weigh too heavily upon you. If your act should cause you to be referred to with reprobation, not to say scorn, by the ladies or gentlemen of fashion who are certain to espouse the cause of the lady, your subsequent conduct will show them that they mistook your character. And I promise you that should you receive a challenge from any of the lady's admirers—those whose prayers she rejected because her heart was set on a gentleman who was worthy of her choice—I think you can afford to ignore them, having won the prize. Ah, sir, is there not a poet who says that every man that lives has a good angel and a bad one contending for dominion over him? That is the truth, Mr. Kendal, and I see that your good angel is none other than the lady whose name I reckon too sacred to pass our lips at such a time as this. Ah, sir, think of her, and let your mind go back to the days of your happy boyhood, and say if the mother at whose knees you knelt did not resemble her. The affection of a son for his mother—let that plead for the lady who esteems you with more than a mother's love.”
He had laid his hand on the poor gentleman's shoulder, and was looking into his face, while the tears stood in his eyes, and his voice broke more than once.
And there sat Dr. Burney wiping his eyes, and Lieutenant Burney blubbering away like any child—the two accessories to the actor's farce could not avoid yielding to the-influence of his unparalleled art. Though they were in his secret, he made fools of them as easily as he made a fool of the poor gentleman who was presumably his victim. And they had no feeling of being ashamed of yielding to his powers. He could do anything that he pleased with them. He could do anything he pleased with the multitudes before whom he acted. He was the master of their emotions for the time being. He played upon their passions as though every passion was a puppet and the strings in his own hands.
CHAPTER IV
THE scene ended by Mr. Garrick's victim groping through his tears for Mr. Garrick's hand. He grasped it emotionally, and though for some moments he was too greatly overcome to be able to utter a word, yet at last he managed to blurt out with affecting incoherence a few phrases.
“Say no more—say no more, sir,” he muttered. “I have a heart—a heart! I give you my word, whether you believe me or not, that I had no notion—but you have shown me what 'tis to be a woman. Oh, sir, there is no sweeter sex in the world! Deception! how a man's own heart may deceive him—ay, up to a certain point—but then—ah, you have taught me—but are you sure that the lady—what—have we not been going ahead too fast? What—what; are you convinced?”
“You may take my word for it, sir,” replied Garrick. “There are signs that all who run may read. What, do you suppose that all those persons of quality whose names you mentioned just now as having offered you their felicitations—do you suppose that they could all be in error?”