"And no disgrace to a fair Nun," returned I, "if her behaviour answer
her dress--Nor to a reverend Friar," turning to the Monk, "if his
mind be not a discredit to his appearance--Nor yet to a Country-girl,"
turning to the party-coloured lady's companion, "if she has not weeds
in her heart to disgrace the flowers on her head."
An odd figure, representing a _Merry Andrew_, took my hand, and said,
I had the most piquant wit he had met with that night: "And, friend,"
said he, "let us be better acquainted!"
"Forbear," said I, withdrawing my hand; "not a companion for a
Jack-pudding, neither!"
A Roman Senator just then accosted Miss Darnford; and Mr. B. seeing me
so much engaged, "'Twere hard," said he, "if our nation, in spite
of Cervantes, produced not one cavalier to protect a fair lady thus
surrounded."
"Though surrounded, not distressed, my good knight-errant," said the
Nun: "the fair Quaker will be too hard for half-a-dozen antagonists,
and wants not your protection:--but your poor Nun bespeaks it,"
whispered she, "who has not a word to say for herself." Mr. B.
answered her in Italian (I wish I understood Italian!)--and she had
recourse to her beads.
You can't imagine, Madam, how this Nun haunted him!--I don't like
these masquerades at all. Many ladies, on these occasions, are so
very free, that the censorious will be apt to blame the whole sex for
_their_ conduct, and to say, their hearts are as faulty as those of
the most culpable men, since they scruple not to shew as much, when
they think they cannot be known by their faces. But it is my humble
opinion, that could a standard be fixed, by which one could determine
readily what _is_, and what is _not_ wit, decency would not be so
often wounded by attempts to be witty, as it is. For here every one,
who can say things that shock a modester person, not meeting with due
rebuke, but perhaps a smile, (without considering whether it be of
contempt or approbation) mistakes courage for wit; and every thing
sacred or civil becomes the subject of his frothy jest.
But what a moralizer am I! will your ladyship say: indeed I can't
help it:--and especially on such a subject as a _masquerade_, which I
dislike more than any thing I ever saw. I could say a great deal more
on this occasion; but, upon my word, I am quite out of humour with it:
for I liked my English Mr. B. better than my Spaniard: and the Nun I
approved not by any means; though there were some who observed, that
she was one of the gracefullest figures in the place. And, indeed, in
spite of my own heart, I could not help thinking so too.
Your ladyship knows so well what _masquerades_ are, that I may well be
excused saying any thing further on a subject I am so little pleased
with: for you only desire my notions of those diversions, because I am
a novice in them; and this, I doubt not, will doubly serve to answer
that purpose.
I shall only therefore add, that after an hundred other impertinences
spoken to Miss Darnford and me, and retorted with spirit by her, and
as well as I could by myself, quite sick of the place, I feigned to be
more indisposed than I was, and so got my beloved Spaniard to go off
with us, and reached home by three in the morning. And so much for
_masquerades_. I hope I shall never have occasion to mention them
again to your ladyship. I am, my dearest Madam, _your ever obliged
sister and servant_,