[Along the walls are seated a number of chaperons and other guests, in a variety of studiedly affected attitudes. Their movements are stiff and angular, and their remarks stilted and spasmodic. Never is the correctness of their tone lowered by, for instance, light laughter or whispering. Gazing straight in front of them, with their hands primly folded on their laps and their wrists stuck out so sharply as to convey the impression that those members have been fractured, these onlookers mouth their sentences in the sententious fashion of copybooks, and express, in their whole bearing, a sort of disdainful weariness. Indeed, so absolutely monotonous and uniform in expression are their fades that the latter would seem to have been turned out of one and the same mould—a mould which has stamped them with a stereotyped air of conceit and arrogance, coupled with a certain dull respect for the Man's wealth. The dancers are dressed in white, the musicians in black, and the remaining guests in white, black, or yellow. In the right-hand front corner of the stage (a corner in deeper shadow than the rest of the scene') stands the motionless figure of the Being in Grey. The candle in his hand is now burnt away for two-thirds of its length, yet its flame is still strong and yellow, and continues to throw lurid gleams over the statuesque face and chin of the Being.]
Dialogue of the Guests.
I feel it my bounden duty to remark that to be numbered among the guests at any ball given by the Man is indeed an honour!
Yes; and to that you might have added that only a very limited circle of persons are permitted to attain to that honour. My husband, my sons, my daughters, and myself are profoundly sensible of the privilege which has been accorded us.
I am truly sorry for those who have not had the good fortune to receive an invitation to the ball. Never this night, I fear, will they be able to close their eyes in sleep, by reason of the pangs of envy. Yet on the morrow they will not hesitate to speak in disparaging terms of the fêtes which the Man periodically gives.
Ah, but never have they looked upon such brilliancy as we see here to-night!
No, never! Nor, you might have added, upon such luxury and wealth!
Nor upon such enchanting, such soul-emancipating gaiety! If this be not gaiety, then I know not what gaiety is. But let that pass. 'Tis ill quarrelling with persons who writhe in the pangs of envy. Yet I will venture to foretell that those same persons will presumptuously assert that these were not gilded chairs upon which we are now sitting—not gilded chairs!
No; mere deteriorated articles, purchased, for a trifling sum, from some secondhand dealer!
They will say, too, that those beautiful electric globes were tallow candles of the commonest quality!