Let us enter at once, and in our tour of the Pryor’s Bank regard the ante-drawing-room as a kind of middle or passage-room, belonging either to the gallery or the drawing-room. I admit that the arrangement of the house, which, however, is very simple, appears puzzling at first: the reason of this is, that the senses are often deceived, from mirrors here and there being so judiciously arranged, that they reflect at happy angles objects which would otherwise escape observation. It is impossible to convey an idea of the whole effect of the Pryor’s Bank, made up as it has been of carvings of unrivalled richness, grace, and variety, solemn and grotesque. Statues are there, some of the highest class of art, others which belong to an early Gothic period, and yet an harmonious effect has been produced. Where
will you take up your position for a general view? At the other end? or in the oriel window looking on the Bishop’s Walk?
Now if it were not for that richly gilt Venetian table, the companion to which is in the possession of the Earl of Harrington, we might have an excellent view of that magnificently embellished recess, upon the merits of which Mr. Baylis is commenting to another oddly equipped gentleman. There certainly is something going forward in the fancy-dress way. On this Venetian table stands a French astronomical clock; upon it are silver medallions of Louis XIII. and XIV., and among its ornaments the monograms of these monarchs appear.
Here is a group, in ivory, of bacchanals, with attendant
boys; a genuine piece of Fiamingo’s work, cut from solid ivory, and formerly in the collection of the Vatican. Here,
“’Twas merry when
You wagered on your angling; when your diver
Did hang a salt fish on his hook, which he
With fervency, drew up.” [235]
It is no doubt correctly conjectured by Sir Bulwer Lytton, that many subjects in tapestry (not Scriptural) have their explanation in Plutarch, the fashionable classic source of tale and legend for our fathers of the middle ages. Shakspeare, it need scarcely be observed, depends on him for all his classic plots; and he was no less a favourite on the Continent than with us. If you observe the attitude and expression of Cleopatra, for so we will consider her, you will perceive that there is something impressive, as well as smiling, about her which would suit the words she
is supposed to have uttered, when she had laughed sufficiently at the trick she played him, and which, to the best of my recollection, ran thus, “Leave fishing to us smaller potentates; your angling should be for cities and kingdoms.”